Preparations for the Coronation--Long Wellesley committed by the
Chancellor for Contempt--Alderman Thompson and his
Constituents--Prince Leopold goes to Belgium--Royal Tombs and
Remains--The Lieutenancy of the Tower--The Cholera--The Belgian
Fortresses--Secret Negotiations of Canning with the Whigs--
Transactions before the Close of the Liverpool Administration--
Duke of Wellington and Peel--The Dutch invade Belgium--Defeat
of the Belgian Army--The French enter Belgium--Lord Grey's
Composure--Audience at Windsor--Danger of Reform--Ellen Tree--
The French in Belgium--Goodwood--The Duke of Richmond--The
Reform Bill in Difficulties--Duke of Wellington calls on Lord
Grey--The King declines to be kissed by the Bishops--
Talleyrand's Conversation--State of Europe and France--
Coronation Squabbles--The King divides the old Great Seal
between Brougham and Lyndhurst--Relations of the Duchess of
Kent to George IV. and William IV.--The Coronation--Irritation
of the King--The Cholera--A Dinner at St. James's--State of the
Reform Bill--Sir Augustus d'Este--Madame Junot--State of
France--Poland.
July 15th, 1831 {p.165}
A Committee of Council sat yesterday at the Office about the
coronation; present, the Cabinet, Dukes of Gloucester and Sussex,
Archbishop and Bishop of London; much discussion and nothing
done. Brougham raised every sort of objection about the services
and the dispensing with them, and would have it the King _could_
not dispense with them; finally, the Attorney-General and
Solicitor-General were sent for to the House of Lords and desired
to reconsider the Proclamation.
July 20th, 1831 {p.165}
I have been laid up with the gout these last few days, unable to
move, but without violent pain. The Committee of Council met
again on Friday last, when the Proclamation was settled. A Court
of Claims is to sit, but to be prohibited from receiving any
claims except those relating to the ceremonies in the Abbey. The
Lords went to St. James's and held the Council, at which the King
made a little speech, to the effect that he would be crowned to
satisfy the tender consciences of those who thought it necessary,
but that he thought that it was his duty (as this country, in
common with every other, was labouring under distress) to make it
as economical as possible. A difficulty arose about the
publication of the Proclamation, usually done by heralds with
certain ceremonies. The first proclamation is not the one to be
acted on; the second does not announce the coronation, but refers
to the first. I asked Brougham what was to be done. He said both
must be read. Lord Grey suggested neither, which was done.
The other day Long Wellesley carried off his daughter, a ward in
Chancery, from her guardians, and secreted her. The matter was
brought before the Chancellor, who sent for Wellesley. He came,
and refused to give her up; so Brougham committed him to the
Fleet Prison. The matter was brought the next day before the
House of Commons, and referred to their Committee of Privileges;
and in the meantime Brougham has been making a great splutter
about his authority and his Court both on the judicial bench and
from the Woolsack. The lawyers in the House of Commons were
divided as to Wellesley's right of privilege in such a case.[1]
[1] [Both the Chancellor and Mr. Wellesley wrote to the
Speaker, and their letters were read to the House
before the Committee of Privileges was appointed.
Meanwhile Mr. Wellesley remained at his house in Dover
Street in charge of two officers of the Court of
Chancery. There is, I believe, no doubt that the
committal was good, and that Mr. Wellesley's privilege
as a member of Parliament did not protect him, a
contempt of the Court having been committed. A similar
point has recently been raised in the Court of Queen's
Bench upon the committal of Mr. Whalley.]
[Page Head: ALDERMAN THOMPSON AND HIS CONSTITUENTS.]
There has been exhibited in the course of the last few days one
of the most disgraceful scenes (produced by the Reform Bill) ever
witnessed. On the question of the disfranchisement of Appleby a
certain Alderman Thompson, member for the City, who stood deeply
pledged to Reform, voted for hearing counsel in defence of the
borough, on which there was a meeting of his ward, or of certain
of his constituents, to consider his conduct. He was obliged to
appear before them, and, after receiving a severe lecture, to
confess that he had been guilty of inadvertence, to make many
submissive apologies, and promise to vote no more but in
obedience to the Minister. It is always an agreeable pastime to
indulge one's virtuous indignation, and wish to have been in the
place of such an one for the sake of doing what he ought to have
done but did not do, by which, without any of the risk of a very
difficult and unpleasant situation, one has all the imaginary
triumph of eloquence, independence, and all kinds of virtue; and
so in this instance I feel that I should have liked to pour upon
these wretches the phials of my wrath and contempt. If the
alderman had had one spark of spirit he would have spurned the
terrors of this plebeian inquisition, and told them that they had
elected him, and that it was his intention, as long as he
continued their representative, to vote as he thought proper,
always redeeming the pledges he had given at his election; that
he would not submit to be questioned for this or any other vote,
and if they were not satisfied with his conduct when the
Parliament should be over they might choose whom they would in
his place. What makes the case the more absurd is, that this
question of Appleby is monstrous, and it never ought (by their
own principle) to have been put in Schedule A at all. There was a
debate and a division on it last night, and a majority for the
Ministers of seventy-five in a very full House; the worst
division they have yet had. Every small victory in the House of
Commons is probably equivalent to a great defeat in the House of
Lords, unless they do what is now talked of--make as many Peers
as may be necessary to carry the Bill, which I doubt their daring
to do or the King consenting to do. The lapse of time and such
difficulties and absurdities will probably obstruct the Bill, so
as to prevent its passing. God knows what we shall have instead.
Prince Leopold started on Saturday, having put his pension into
trustees' hands (by the advice of Lambton), to keep up Claremont
and pay his debts and pensions, and then hand over the residue to
the Exchequer, the odds being that none of it ever gets there,
and that he is back here before the debts are paid. It seems
that, desirous as he had been to go, when the time drew near he
got alarmed, and wanted to back out, but they brought him (though
with difficulty) to the point. He has proposed to the Princess
Louise, King Louis Philippe's daughter.
Halford has been with me this morning gossiping (which he likes);
he gave me an account of his discovery of the head of Charles I.
in St. George's Chapel, Windsor, to which he was directed by
Wood's account in the 'Athenae Oxonienses.' He says that they
also found the coffin of Henry VIII., but that the air had
penetrated and the body had been reduced to a skeleton. By his
side was Jane Seymour's coffin untouched, and he has no doubt her
body is perfect. The late King intended to have it opened, and he
says he will propose it to this King. By degrees we may visit the
remains of the whole line of Tudor and Plantagenet too, and see
if those famous old creatures were like their effigies. He says
Charles's head was exactly as Vandyke had painted him.
July 26th, 1831 {p.168}
At Oatlands on Saturday, and came back on Sunday night. Nobody
there but my father, mother, Walpole, Sneyd, and Alava; very
different from what I once remember it. There has been a great
deal of talk about the Duke of Wellington giving Lord Munster the
Lieutenancy of the Tower, the truth of which is as follows:--It
is in the King's gift, and he sent to the Duke and desired him to
name somebody. The Duke would have liked to name one of
three--Fitzroy Somerset, Colin Campbell, or Hardinge. The latter
would not have been agreeable to Government, and therefore it
would have occasioned the King an embarrassment; the second was
provided for, and Lord Hill advised the first to remain as he is
(though I don't see why he could not have had both); so the Duke
thought it would gratify the King if he was to name Munster.
Munster wrote a very civil letter to the Duke, full of thanks and
saying that he begged he would not think of him if he had anybody
else to give it to, and that he would take upon himself to
explain to the King his not accepting it. The Duke persisted,
and so he had it. I must say he might have found some one out of
the number of his old officers to give it to rather than Munster.
The King of France's Speech arrived yesterday, but nothing was
said in the House of Lords, because Lord Grey was at Windsor. It
will make a stir--the general tone of it, and the demolition of
the fortresses which cost us seven millions. Not one of the
papers made a remark upon it; nothing will do for them but
Reform.
[Page Head: THE CHOLERA.]
Fresh claims have been raised about cholera morbus. A man at Port
Glasgow insists upon it, without much apparent reason, that it
prevails there; so we have sent a medical man down, in order to
quiet people's minds and to set the question at rest. Lord Grey,
who is credulous, believes the Glasgow man's story, and spread
the news in his own family, who immediately dispersed it over the
rest of the town, and yesterday nobody could talk of anything
else; not believing it very much, and not understanding it at
all, for if they did they would not be so flippant. Lady Holland
wrote to Lord Lansdowne to desire he would recommend her the best
_cholera_ doctor that he had heard of. I have just received a
letter from Moore, saying he has ordered his publisher to send me
a copy of 'Lord Edward Fitzgerald,' and that he only sends copies
to the Duke of Leinster and me, but begs I will send him no
opinion, for 'opinions fidget him'--'genus irritabile vatum.'
July 27th, 1831 {p.169}
Yesterday Aberdeen asked Lord Grey some questions in a very few
words, accompanied as usual with a sneer, which is very
unbecoming, and of course gave Lord Grey the advantage of
repelling it with scorn. The Duke spoke, and pretty well, but
laid some stress more on Portugal than upon Belgium, which is
what I cannot understand, but Alava told me that when he came to
town yesterday he had said to him that, as an Englishman, he had
never felt so deeply affected for the honour of his country as in
this transaction. I met him after the debate, and he said he
thought he had done some good by what he said. The question of
the Belgian fortresses is not without great difficulty, and the
strong part of it for Government is that their demolition was
agreed to by all the Powers interested (except Holland), and
without the presence of the French Plenipotentiary at the meeting
when it was decided. I am inclined to think that the manner in
which it was blurted out in the King of France's Speech, as a
clap-trap for him, will have made the principal difficulty,
though the policy may be very questionable.
July 28th, 1831 {p.170}
On Tuesday night they got through Schedule A, but in a very
bungling manner, and the events of the night, its enemies say,
damaged the Bill, not, however, that anything can hurt it in the
House of Commons, though such things may tell in the House of
Lords; but on the question of Saltash, which the Opposition did
not consider as a very strong case, so little that they had not
intended to divide on it, John Russell and the rest suddenly gave
way, and without informing their friends moved that it ought to
be in Schedule B. On a division all the Ministers voted with, the
Opposition, so the borough was transferred to B. Their friends
were furious, and not without reason, that they had not
determined where it ought to be placed, and have transferred it
themselves instead of leaving them in the dilemma they were in
when the division arrived. A court and levee yesterday.
Oatlands, July 31st, 1831 {p.170}
[Page Head: CANNING'S NEGOTIATION WITH THE WHIGS.]
The Arbuthnots and Mr. Loch here. I rode down after the Opera
last night; walked for an hour and a half with Arbuthnot under
the shade of one of the great trees, talking of various old
matters and some new, principally about Canning and his disputes
and differences with the Duke of Wellington. He says that the
Duke's principal objection to Canning was the knowledge of his
having negotiated with the Whigs previously to Lord Liverpool's
illness, which was communicated to the Duke; he would not say by
whom. The person who went between them was Sir Robert Wilson,
deputed by Brougham, and those who afterwards joined Canning. Sir
Robert spoke to Huskisson, and he to Canning. What they said was
this: that finding his view so liberal, they were ready to
support and join him, and in the event of his becoming Minister
(on Lord Liverpool's death or resignation) that they would serve
under him. Arbuthnot does not know what answer Canning sent to
this, nor whether he _did_ anything on it, but when on Lord
Liverpool's illness Canning went to the King at Windsor, he told
him that if the Tories would not consent to his being named
Minister 'he was sure of the Whigs,' but this he entreated the
King not to mention. Immediately after Canning the Duke went to
the King, and to him the King directly repeated what Canning had
said. The Duke told the King that he was already aware of
Canning's intercourse with the Whigs, and with that knowledge
that he could not consent to his being Prime Minister, as he
could have no confidence in him. Shortly after this, and before
the resignation of the Ministers, but after the difficulties had
begun, Knighton came to Arbuthnot, and said he was afraid his
Royal Master had done a great deal of mischief by repeating to
the Duke what Canning had said, that he was very anxious to bring
the Duke and Canning together again, and asked him (Arbuthnot) to
go with him to Canning and see what could be done. Arbuthnot
declined, but said if Canning _wished_ to see him he would go.
Canning sent for him, and they had a long conversation, in which
he expressed his desire to go on with the Duke, and it was agreed
the Duke should call on him and have a conversation and see what
could be arranged. The Duke called on him, and they talked of a
variety of matters, but not a word passed about the formation of
a new Ministry. Arbuthnot went to the House, and told Canning how
much he was surprised and disappointed that nothing had come of
this conversation, to which he made no reply, but Arbuthnot found
afterwards that between his leaving Canning and the Duke's going
to him Peel had been to him and proposed that the Duke should be
Prime Minister. This so offended Canning, believing that it was a
measure of the party and done with the Duke's consent, that he
resolved not to utter a word to the Duke on the subject, and so
ended the hopes of their agreement.
It does not appear, however, as if anything could have been done,
for Canning was bent upon being Prime Minister; and I asked
Arbuthnot to what the Duke would have consented, and he said,
'Not to that,' that after the transaction with the Whigs he could
not have felt sufficient confidence in Canning to agree to his
being Prime Minister. (If he distrusted Canning he ought to have
refused to act with him at all, not merely objected to his being
Prime Minister, but the ground of his objection was shifted.)
Originally the King could not bear Canning, and he was only
persuaded by the Duke to take him into the Cabinet. Afterwards he
was so offended at the influence he acquired there, and
particularly with that which he had got over the mind of Lord
Liverpool, that he one day sent for Arbuthnot and desired him to
tell Lord Liverpool that he could not endure to see Canning make
a puppet of him, and he would rather he was Prime Minister at
once than have all the power without the name by governing him
(Lord Liverpool) as he pleased, and that unless he could shake
off this influence he was determined not to let him continue at
the head of the Government, and, moreover, he must find some
means of getting rid of Canning altogether. This Arbuthnot wrote
to Lord Liverpool, who wrote an answer couched in terms of
indignation, saying he by no means coveted his situation, that he
was sure his colleagues would resent any indignity offered to
him, and that the King had better take care what he was about,
and not, by producing disunion in the Government, incur the risk
of making the end of his reign as disastrous as the beginning of
it had been prosperous.
Not very long after Canning got into favour, and in this
way:--Harriet Wilson at the time of her connexion with Lord
Ponsonby got hold of some of Lady Conyingham's letters to him,
and she wrote to Ponsonby, threatening, unless he gave her a
large sum, to come to England and publish everything she could.
This produced dismay among all the parties, and they wanted to
get Ponsonby away and to silence the woman. In this dilemma
Knighton advised the King to have recourse to Canning, who saw
the opening to favour, jumped at it, and instantly offered to
provide for Ponsonby and do anything which could relieve the King
from trouble. Ponsonby was sent to Buenos Ayres forthwith, and
the letters were bought up. From this time Canning grew in
favour, which he took every means to improve, and shortly gained
complete ascendancy over the King.
[Page Head: CANNING AND THE LIVERPOOL ADMINISTRATION.]
Arbuthnot said that Canning and Castlereagh had always gone on
well together after their reconciliation, but that Lord
Liverpool's subjection to him arose more from fear than
affection. Liverpool told Arbuthnot that he earnestly desired to
resign his office, that his health was broken, and he was only
retained by the consideration that his retirement might be the
means of breaking up a Government which he had (through the
kindness of his colleagues to him) been enabled to hold together;
that Canning worked with a twenty-horse power; that his
sensitiveness was such that he [Canning] felt every paragraph in
a newspaper that reflected on him, and that the most trifling
causes produced an irritation on his mind, which was always
vented upon him (Lord Liverpool), and that every time the door
was opened he dreaded the arrival of a packet from Canning.
Arbuthnot had been in great favour with the King, who talked to
him and consulted him, but he nearly cut him after the disunion
consequent on Canning's appointment. Knighton came to Arbuthnot
and desired him to try and prevail on the Duke to consent to
Canning's being Prime Minister, which he told him was useless,
and from that time the King was just civil to the Duke and that
was all. The Duke had always suspected that Canning wanted all
along to be Prime Minister, and that when he sent him to Russia
to congratulate Nicholas it was to get him out of the way, and he
was the more convinced because Canning proposed to him to go on
to Moscow for the coronation, which he positively refused, having
promised his friends to be back in April, which he accordingly
was. Canning never had a great opinion of Huskisson, nor really
liked him, though he thought him very useful from being
conversant with the subjects on which he was himself most
ignorant--trade and finance; but he did not contemplate his being
in the Cabinet, and had no confidence in his judgment or his
discretion; and this tallies with what Lady Canning told me,
though certainly he did not do Huskisson justice in any way,
which Arbuthnot admitted. Knighton behaved exceedingly well
during the King's illness, and by the vigilant watch he kept over
the property of various kinds prevented the pillage which Lady
Conyngham would otherwise have made. She knew everything, but did
not much trouble herself about affairs, being chiefly intent upon
amassing money and collecting jewels.
He talked a great deal of Peel, of the difficulty of going on
with him, of his coldness, incommunicativeness; that at the time
of the opening the Liverpool Railroad he had invited the Duke,
Aberdeen, and some more to meet at Drayton to consider of
strengthening themselves; that they had left the place just as
they had gone to it, nothing settled and nothing elicited from
Peel; that on the late occasion of the wine duties they had gone
to Peel and asked him whether they should fight out and divide on
it; that he had referred them to Goulburn, who had decided in the
affirmative, on which he had agreed to their friends being
mustered, but that he took offence at something that was said in
debate, and marched off _sans mot dire_; that somebody was sent
after him to represent the bad effect of his departure, and
entreat him to return, but he was gone to bed. This is by no
means the first time Arbuthnot has spoken to me about Peel in
this strain and with such feelings. How are the Duke and he to
make a Government again, especially after what Lyndhurst said of
the Duke? Necessity may bring them together, but though common
interest and common danger may unite them, there the seeds of
disunion always must be. I have scribbled down all I can
recollect of a very loose conversation, and perhaps something
else may occur to me by-and-by.
In the meantime to return to the events of the present day.
Althorp raised a terrible storm on Friday by proposing that the
House should sit on Saturday. They spent six hours debating the
question, which might have been occupied in the business; so
that, though they did not sit yesterday, they gained nothing and
made bad blood. Yesterday morning Murray made a conciliatory
speech, which Burdett complimented, and all went on harmoniously.
John Russell is ill, nearly done up with fatigue and exertion and
the bad atmosphere he breathes for several hours every night.
[Page Head: LONG WELLESLEY AND BROUGHAM.]
Long Wellesley has given up his daughter and has been discharged
from arrest. I met the Solicitor-General yesterday, who told me
this, and said that Brougham had been in the midst of his
blustering terribly nervous about it. This was clear, for both he
and Wellesley were waiting for the report of the Committee of the
House of Commons, though Brougham affected to hold it cheap, and
talked very big of what he should do and should have done had it
been unfavourable to his authority. The fact is that Long
Wellesley was contumacious, but after a short confinement he
knocked under and yielded to the Chancellor on all points, and
was released from durance.
We had a meeting on the Coronation business yesterday morning,
and took into consideration the estimates. That from the
Chamberlain's Office was L70,000 and upwards, which was referred
to a sub-committee to dissect and report upon.
August 5th, 1831 {p.175}
Yesterday morning arrived the news of Casimir Perier's
resignation in consequence of the division in the Chamber of
Deputies on the election of President. He had very unnecessarily
committed himself by declaring he would resign if Lafitte was
elected, and though the other candidate (M. Girod de l'Ain) was
chosen, as it was, only by a majority of five, he considered this
tantamount to a defeat, and accordingly went out of office.[2] It
was supposed, but not quite certain, that Mole would be First
Minister, but without much chance of being able to keep that
post.
[2] [M. Casimir Perier did not retire from office on this
occasion, though he had momentarily resigned it. He
remained in power till his death which took place from
cholera in the following year.]
[Page Head: HOLLAND AND BELGIUM.]
At the same time comes intelligence that the King of Holland has
marched into Belgium at three points with three corps under the
Prince of Orange, Prince Frederick, and the Prince of Nassau.
This, however, was premature, for it turns out that the Prince of
Orange in a proclamation to his army declares that the armistice
was to end last night at half-past nine, and that he marches 'to
secure equitable terms of separation,' not therefore for the
purpose of reconquest. I saw Lord Grey in the morning in a state
of great consternation, the more particularly as he told me a
Dutch Plenipotentiary had arrived the day before with full powers
to treat, and that he had not in his intercourse with him and
with Palmerston uttered one word of the King of Holland's
intentions. In the evening I had a long conversation with
Matuscewitz. He says that it is impossible to foresee the end of
all this, but that the most probable event is a general war.
Coming at the moment of a change in the French Ministry, nobody
can guess what the French may do, and the Conferences are
useless, because any resolution they may make may probably be
totally inapplicable to the state of things produced by events
hastening on elsewhere. The King of Holland has all along very
justly complained of the proceedings of the Allies towards him,
which they justify by necessity ('the tyrant's plea') and to
which he has been obliged sulkily to submit, though always
protesting and never acquiescing, except in an armistice to which
he agreed. Meantime the Allies went on negotiating, but without
making much progress, and the Dutchman borrowed money and put his
army on a respectable footing. It is remarkable that as long as
he held out that he sought the reunion he could get no money at
all, but no sooner did he renounce the idea of reunion, and
propose to make war for objects more immediately national to the
Dutch, than he got a loan filled (in two days) to the amount of
about a million sterling. When the proposition was made to
Leopold, though no arrangement was actually agreed upon, there
was a general understanding that the King of Holland would
consent to the separation of the two States, and that the
Belgians should resign their claims to Limbourg and Luxembourg,
and after Lord Ponsonby's letter which made so much noise,
Falck's protestation, and Ponsonby's recall this seemed to be
clearly established. When Leopold received the offer of the
Crown, he only consented to take it upon an understanding that
the Belgians would agree to the terms prescribed by the Allies;
but before the whole thing was settled he took fright and began
to repent, and it was with some difficulty he was at last
persuaded to go by the Belgian deputies with assurances that
these terms would be complied with. Go, however, he did, and that
unaccompanied by any person of weight or consequence from this
country. Matuscewitz told me that he went on his knees to
Palmerston to send somebody with him who would prevent his
getting into scrapes, and that Talleyrand and Falck, by far the
best heads among them, had both predicted that Leopold would
speedily commit some folly the consequences of which might be
irreparable.[3] Our Government, however, paid no attention to
these remonstrances, and he was suffered to go alone. Accordingly
he had no sooner arrived than, intoxicated with the applause he
received, he forgot all that had occurred here and all the
resolutions of the Allies, and flourished off speeches in direct
contradiction to them, and announced his determination to
comprehend the disputed provinces in his new kingdom. It is no
wonder that this excited the indignation of the King of Holland,
but it is unfortunate that he could not be patient a little
longer. Notwithstanding his march, however, his Plenipotentiary
here has full power to treat of all the disputed points, and is
authorised to put a stop to hostilities at any moment when he can
see the prospect of satisfaction; it is, however, believed here
(though at present not on any sufficient grounds) that Prussia
secretly supports the King of Holland. The danger is that France
may without any further communication with her Allies consider
the aggression of the Dutch as a justification of a corresponding
movement on her part, and should this happen the Prussians would
no longer deem themselves bound by the common obligations which
united all the conferring and mediating Powers, and a general war
would infallibly ensue. Nor is it unlikely that the French
Ministry, beset as they are with difficulties, and holding their
offices _de die in diem_, may think a war the best expedient
for occupying the nation and bringing all the restless spirits
and unquiet humours into one focus. I have long been of opinion
that such mighty armaments and such a nervous state of things
cannot end without a good deal of blood-letting. [The Prussians
did not support the Dutch, the French did march, and war did not
ensue.--August 28th.]
[3] [This account of Leopold's arrival in Belgium is hardly
fair, and forms an amusing contrast to Baron Stockmar's
narrative of the same occurrence in his 'Memoirs,' p.
180. Unquestionably Leopold showed far more foresight,
judgment, and resolution than Mr. Greville gave him
credit for. He was not accompanied by 'any person of
weight or consequence' from this country, because that
would have given him the air of a puppet and a British
nominee. But Stockmar was with him. The King entered
Brussels on the 21st of July, and was well received. On
the 4th of August the Dutch broke the truce and invaded
Belgium. It was impossible to provide against so sudden
a movement, and the Army of the Scheldt was beaten at
Louvain on the 12th of August. The King then claimed
the intervention of France and England in defence of
the neutrality and independence of Belgium, which had
been guaranteed to him by the treaty of the eighteen
articles under which he had accepted the Crown. But the
passage in the text is curious, because it shows how
little confidence was felt at that time in a prince who
turned out to be one of the ablest rulers and
politicians of his time.]
_At night._--Lord Grey was attacked by Aberdeen to-night on his
foreign policy, and particularly about Portugal, and he is said
to have made a splendid speech. Sir Henry Seton arrived from
Liverpool to announce what is going on, and he is bent on
fighting at present. Abercromby, who is come likewise, reports
that he has 50,000 or 60,000 men.
August 9th, 1831 {p.178}
On Saturday morning we were saluted with intelligence that on the
French King's hearing of the Dutch invasion he ordered Marshal
Gerard, with 50,000 men, to march into Belgium; and great was the
alarm here: the funds fell and everybody was prepared for
immediate war. In the afternoon I called upon Lord Grey at East
Sheen (in my way to Monk's Grove, where I was going) to say
something to him about the coronation, and found him with a more
cheerful countenance than I expected. He did not appear alarmed
at what the French had done, and very well satisfied with the
manner of their doing it, marching only in virtue of their
guarantee and proclaiming their own neutrality and the Belgian
independence, and the King had previously received the Belgian
Minister. I told him I thought Leopold's folly had been the cause
of it, and that his speeches about Luxembourg had given the Dutch
King a pretext. He said, not at all, and that the King of Holland
would have done this under any circumstances, which I took leave
to doubt, though I did not think it necessary to say so.[4]
[4] [Lord Grey's composure was mainly due to the entire
confidence he felt in the honour of the Duc de Broglie,
then French Minister of Foreign Affairs, who had given
positive assurances to the British Cabinet that the
intervention of France would be confined to the
immediate object in view. This confidence was equally
honourable to both statesmen, and these assurances were
faithfully fulfilled.]
[Page Head: THE QUEEN'S CROWN.]
On Sunday, overtaken by the most dreadful storm I ever saw--flashes
of lightning, crashes of thunder, and the rain descending
like a waterspout--I rode to Windsor, to settle with the Queen
what sort of crown she would have to be crowned in. I was ushered
into the King's presence, who was sitting at a red table in the
sitting-room of George IV., looking over the flower garden. A
picture of Adolphus Fitzclarence was behind him (a full-length),
and one of the parson, Rev. Augustus Fitzclarence, in a Greek
dress, opposite. He sent for the Queen, who came with the
Landgravine and one of the King's daughters, Lady Augusta
Erskine, the widow of Lord Cassilis's son. She looked at the
drawings, meant apparently to be civil to me in her ungracious
way, and said she would have none of our crowns, that she did not
like to wear a hired crown, and asked me if I thought it was
right that she should. I said, 'Madam, I can only say that the
late King wore one at his coronation.' However she said, 'I do
not like it, and I have got jewels enough, so I will have them
made up myself.' The King said to me, 'Very well; then _you_ will
have to pay for the setting.' 'Oh, no,' she said; 'I shall pay
for it all myself.' The King looked well, but seemed infirm. I
talked to Taylor afterwards, who said he had very little doubt
this storm in Belgium would blow over, and agreed that Leopold's
folly had been in great measure the cause of it. There have been
discussions in both Houses, which have in some measure quieted
people's apprehensions. To-day that ass Lord Londonderry (who has
never yet had his windows mended from the time they were broken
by the mob at the Reform illumination) brings on a motion about
Belgium.
August 11th, 1831 {p.180}
Nothing new these last two days. Londonderry's motion produced an
angry debate, but no division. Brougham is said to have been very
good. The Government wanted to divide, but the Opposition know
that it is not their interest to provoke a trial of strength. The
Ministers, if beaten, would not go out, and they are anxious to
see what their opponents' strength is. At Court yesterday, when
Van de Weyer, the new Belgian Minister, made his appearance. I
said to Esterhazy, 'You will blow this business over, sha'n't
you?' He said, 'Yes, I think we shall _this time_.'
Nothing remarkable in the House of Commons but Lord John
Russell's declaration that 'this Bill would not be final if it
was not found to work as well as the people desired,' which is
sufficiently impudent considering that hitherto they have always
pretended that it was to be final, and that it was made so
comprehensive only that it might be so; this has been one of
their grand arguments, and now we are never to sit down and rest,
but go on changing till we get a good fit, and that for a country
which will have been made so fidgety that it won't stand still to
be measured. Hardinge, whom I found at dinner at the Athenaeum
yesterday, told me he was convinced that a revolution in this
country was inevitable; and such is the opinion of others who
support this Bill, not because they think concession will avert
it, but will let it come more gradually and with less violence. I
have always been convinced that the country was in no danger of
revolution, and still believe that if one does come it will be
from the passing of this Bill, which will introduce the principle
of change and whet the appetites of those who never will be
satisfied with any existing order of things; or if it follows on
the rejection of this Bill, which I doubt, it will be owing to
the concentration of all the forces that are opposed to our
present institutions, and the divisions, jealousies, rivalships,
and consequent weakness of all those who ought to defend them.
God only knows how it will all end. There has been but one man
for many years past able to arrest this torrent, and that was
Canning; and him the Tories--idiots that they were, and never
discovering that he was their best friend--hunted to death with
their besotted and ignorant hostility.
[Page Head: ELLEN TREE.]
I went to the play last night at a very shabby little house
called the City Theatre--a long way beyond the Post Office--to
see Ellen Tree act in a translation of 'Une Faute,' one of the
best pieces of acting I ever saw. This girl will turn out very
good if she remains on the stage. She has never been brought
forward at Covent Garden, and I heard last night the reason why.
Charles Kemble took a great fancy for her (she is excessively
pretty), and made her splendid offers of putting her into the
best parts, and advancing her in all ways, if she would be
propitious to his flame, but which she indignantly refused; so he
revenged himself (to his own detriment) by keeping her back and
promoting inferior actresses instead. If ever she acquires fame,
which is very probable, for she has as much nature, and feeling,
and passion as I ever saw, this will be a curious anecdote. [She
married Charles Kean, lost her good looks, and became a tiresome,
second-rate actress.]
August 12th, 1831 {p.181}
Yesterday a Committee of Council met to settle the order of the
coronation and submit the estimates, which we have brought under
L30,000 instead of L240,000, which they were last time.
The question now is whether our Ministry shall go along with
France, or whether France shall be pulled up; and it is brought
to this point by Leopold's having sent to the French to thank
them for their aid, but to say that he can do without them, and
to beg they will retire, which they have refused to do. It was
known yesterday that they are at Mons, and strongly suspected
they will not so easily be got out of it; but the French
Government will not venture to quarrel with us if we take a
peremptory tone. It is not, however, clear that the French
Government can control the French army; and I have heard it said
that if they had not ordered the troops to march, the troops
would have marched without orders. L. is all for curbing France;
so a very short time must bring matters to a crisis, and it will
be seen if the Government has authority to check the war party
there. In the meantime the French have taken the Portuguese ships
without any intention of giving them back; and this our Ministers
know, and do not remonstrate. J. asked L. if it was true, and he
said, 'Oh, yes,' for that having been compelled to force the
Tagus, they were placed in a state of war, and the ships became
lawful prizes. If it was not for Reform I doubt that this
Government could stand a moment, but that will bring them up. In
the country it is too clear that there are no symptoms of a
reaction, and if a state of indifference can be produced it is
all that can be hoped and more than should be expected. I do not
think the Government by any means responsible for the embroiled
state of Europe, but they certainly appear to have no fixed plan
or enlightened view of foreign policy, and if they have not been
to blame hitherto (which in acting with all the Allies, and
endeavouring to keep things quiet, they have not been), they are
evidently in great danger of floundering now.
Goodwood, August 20th, 1831 {p.182}
Here I have been a week to-day for the races, and here I should
not be now--for everybody else is gone--if it were not for the
gout, which has laid me fast by the foot, owing to a blow. While
on these racing expeditions I never know anything of politics,
and, though I just read the newspapers, have no anecdotes to
record of Reform or foreign affairs. I never come here without
fresh admiration of the beauty and delightfulness of the place,
combining everything that is enjoyable in life--large and
comfortable house, spacious and beautiful park, extensive views,
dry soil, sea air, woods, and rides over downs, and all the
facilities of occupation and amusement. The Duke, who has so
strangely become a Cabinet Minister in a Whig Government, and who
is a very good sort of man and my excellent friend, appears here
to advantage, exercising a magnificent hospitality, and as a
sportsman, a farmer, a magistrate, and good, simple, unaffected
country gentleman, with great personal influence. This is what he
is fit for, to be,
With safer pride content,
The wisest justice on the banks of Trent,
and not to assist in settling Europe and making new
constitutions.
[Page Head: REFORM BILL IN DIFFICULTIES.]
I find on arriving in town that there is nothing new, but the
Bill, which drags its slow length along, is in a bad way; not
that it will not pass the Commons, but now everybody attacks it,
and the press is all against what remains of it. Lord Chandos's
motion and the defeat of Government by so large a majority have
given them a great blow. Still they go doggedly on, and are
determined to cram it down anyhow, quite indifferent how it is to
work and quite ignorant. As to foreign affairs, the Ministers
trust to blunder through them, hoping, like Sir Abel Handy in the
play, that the fire 'will go out of itself.' Sefton has just been
here, who talks blusteringly of the Peers that are to be made, no
matter at what cost of character to the House of Lords, anything
rather than be beaten; but I am not sure that he _knows_
anything. In such matters as these he is (however sharp) no
better than a fool--no knowledge, no information, no reflection
or combination; prejudices, partialities, and sneers are what his
political wisdom consists of; but he is Lord Grey's _ame damnee_.
Stoke, August 28th, 1831 {p.183}
My gout is still hanging on me. Very strange disorder, affecting
different people so differently; with me very little pain, much
swelling, heat, and inconvenience, more like bruised muscles and
tendons and inflamed joints; it disables me, but never prevents
my sleeping at night. Henry de Ros called on me yesterday;
nothing new, and he knows everything from L., who sits there
picking up politics and gossip, to make money by the one and
derive amusement from the other. L. is odd enough, and very
_malin_ with what he knows. He is against _Reform_, but not
against the _Government_; _for_ the Duke of Wellington and not
_for_ the Opposition--in short, just as interest, fancy, caprice,
and particular partialities sway him. It was he who told me the
fact of the French having carried away the Portuguese ships, and
he said that I might tell the Duke that he might make what use he
pleased of it; but soon after, wishing if it did come out that it
should fall harmless, he bethought him of the following
expedient:--Seeing that Valletort (who is a good-natured
blockhead) is always spluttering in the House of Commons, he
thought in his hands it would do no harm, so he told him the fact
with some flattering observations about his activity and energy
in the House, which Valley swallowed and with many thanks
proceeded to put questions to Palmerston, which sure enough were
so confused and unintelligible that nobody understood him, and
the matter fell very flat. I don't see that Government is saved
by this ruse, if the case against them is a good one; but it is
curious as indicative of the artifice of the person, and of his
odd sort of political disposition. As I don't write history I
omit to note such facts as are recorded in the newspapers, and
merely mention the odd things I pick up, which are not generally
known, and which may hereafter throw some light on those which
are.
The Belgian business is subsiding into quiet again. The Dutch
have gained some credit, and the Prince of Orange has (what was
of importance to him) removed the load of odium under which he
had been labouring in Holland, and acquired great popularity.
Leopold has cut a ridiculous figure enough; not exhibiting any
want of personal courage, but after all the flourishes at the
time of his accession finding himself at the head of a nation of
blustering cowards who would do nothing but run away. The arrival
of the French army soon put an end to hostilities, and now the
greater part of it has been recalled; but Leopold has desired
that 10,000 men may be left for his protection, whether against
the Dutch or against the Belgians does not appear. This excites
considerable jealousies here, for as yet it is not known _why_ he
asked for such aid, nor on what terms it is to be granted.
L. told me an odd thing connected with these troops. Easthope
received a commission from a secretary of Soult to sell largely
in our funds, coupled with an assurance that the troops would
_not_ retire. I don't know the fate of the commission.
There are various reports of dissensions in the Cabinet, which
are not true. The Duke of Wellington was sent for by Lord Grey
the other day, to give his opinion about the demolition of the
Belgian fortresses; so the ex-Prime Minister went to visit his
successor in the apartment which was so lately his own. No man
would mind such a thing less than the Duke; he is sensitive, but
has no nonsense about him. He is very well and, however disgusted
with the state of everything at home and abroad (which after all
is greatly imputable to himself), in high spirits.
The King did a droll thing the other day. The ceremonial of the
coronation was taken down to him for approval. The homage is
first done by the spiritual Peers, with the Archbishop at their
head. The first of each class (the Archbishop for the spiritual)
says the words, and then they all kiss his cheek in succession.
He said he would not be kissed by the bishops, and ordered that
part to be struck out. As I expected, the prelates would not
stand it; the Archbishop remonstrated, the King knocked under,
and so he must undergo the salute of the spiritual as well as of
the temporal Lords.
August 30th, 1831 {p.185}
[Page Head: TALLEYRAND'S CONVERSATION.]
Left Stoke yesterday morning; a large party--Talleyrand, De Ros,
Fitzroy Somersets, Motteux, John Russell, Alava, Byng. In the
evening Talleyrand discoursed, but I did not hear much of him. I
was gouty and could not stand, and all the places near him were
taken. I have never heard him narrate comfortably, and he is
difficult to understand. He talked of Franklin. I asked him if he
was remarkable in conversation; he said he was from his great
simplicity and the evident strength of his mind. He spoke of the
coronation of the Emperor Alexander. Somebody wrote him a letter
at the time from Moscow with this expression: 'L'Empereur
marchait, precede des assassins de son grand-pere, entoure de
ceux de son pere, et suivi par les siens.' He said of the Count
de Saint-Germain (whom he never saw) that there is an account of
him in Craufurd's book; nobody knew whence he came nor whither he
went; he appeared at Paris suddenly, and disappeared in the same
way, lived in an _hotel garni_, had always plenty of money, and
paid for everything regularly; he talked of events and persons
connected with history, both ancient and modern, with entire
familiarity and a correctness which never was at fault, and
always of the people as if he had lived with them and known them;
as Talleyrand exemplified it, he would say, 'Un jour que je
dinais chez Cesar.'[5] He was supposed to be the Wandering Jew, a
story which has always appeared to me a very sublime fiction,
telling of
That settled ceaseless gloom
The fabled Hebrew wanderer bore,
Which will not look beyond the tomb,
Which cannot hope for rest before.
Then he related Mallet's conspiracy and the strange way in which
he heard it. Early in the morning his tailor came to his house
and insisted on seeing him. He was in bed, but on his _valet de
chambre's_ telling him how pressing the tailor was he ordered him
to be let in. The man said, 'Have you not heard the news? There
is a revolution in Paris.' It had come to the tailor's knowledge
by Mallet's going to him the very first thing to order a new
uniform! Talleyrand said the conspirators ought to have put to
death Cambaceres and the King of Rome. I asked him if they had
done so whether he thought it possible the thing might have
succeeded. He said, 'C'est possible.' To my question whether the
Emperor would not have blown away the whole conspiracy in a
moment he replied, 'Ce n'est pas sur, c'est possible que cela
aurait reussi.'
[5] [This mysterious adventurer died in the arms of Prince
Charles of Hesse, in 1784; and some account of him is
to be found in the 'Memoirs' of that personage, quoted
in the 'Edinburgh Review,' vol. cxxiii. p. 521. The
Count de Saint-Germain was a man of science, especially
versed in chemistry botany, and metallurgy. He is
supposed to have derived his money from an invention in
the art of dyeing. According to his own account of
himself he was a son of Prince Ragozky of Transylvania
and his first wife, a Tekely, and he was Protestant and
educated by the last of the Medicis. He was supposed to
be ninety-two or ninety-three when he died. His
knowledge of the arcana of science and his mysterious
manner of life had given him something of the
reputation of a wizard and a conjuror, but he was an
honourable and benevolent man, not to be confounded
with such charlatans as Mesmer and Cagliostro.]
He afterwards talked of Madame de Stael and Monti. They met at
Madame de Marescalchi's villa near Bologna, and were profuse of
compliments and admiration for each other. Each brought a copy of
their respective works beautifully bound to present to the other.
After a day passed in an interchange of literary flatteries, and
the most ardent expressions of delight, they separated, but each
forgot to carry away the present of the other, and the books
remain in Madame de Marescalchi's library to this day.
August 31st, 1831 {p.187}
[Page Head: STATE OF EUROPE AND FRANCE.]
Dined at Osterley yesterday; Lady Sandwich, Esterhazy and the
Bathursts, Brooke Greville and George Villiers. Esterhazy told me
he had no doubt that there would be a war, that General Baudron
was arrived from Brussels, and Leopold had sent word by him that
the French troops were absolutely necessary to his safety, to
protect him from the turbulence of his own subjects. He
considered that the Polish business was over, at which he greatly
rejoiced. He said that nobody was prepared for war, and the great
object was to gain time, but a few weeks must now bring matters
to a crisis; the only difficulty appears to be what to go to war
about, and who the belligerents should be, for at the eleventh
hour, and with the probability of a general war, it is a toss-up
whether we and the French are to be the closest allies or the
deadliest enemies. He told me that Casimir Perier would probably
be unable to keep his ground, that the modified law about the
House of Peers did not give satisfaction. If he is beaten on this
he goes out, and if he does, with him will probably vanish all
hopes of peace. It is pretty evident that France is rapidly
advancing to a republic. Her institutions have long been
republican, and, though very compatible with a despotic empire,
incompatible with a constitutional and limited monarchy. This
Buonaparte knew.
Another Coronation Committee yesterday, and, I am happy to say,
the last, for this business is the greatest of all bores. There
is a furious squabble between the Grand Chamberlain and the Earl
Marshal (who is absent and has squabbled by deputy) about the box
of the former in Westminster Abbey. At the last coronation King
George IV. gave Lord Gwydir _his_ box in addition to his own, and
now Lord Cholmondeley claims a similar box.[6] This is resisted.
The present King disposes of his own box (and will probably fill
it with every sort of _canaille_); the Lords won't interfere, and
the Grand Chamberlain protests, and says he has been shamefully
used, and there the matter stands. The Grand Chamberlain is in
the wrong.
[6] [Lord Gwydir and Lord Cholmondeley filled the office of
Lord High Chamberlain for alternative lives as the
representatives of the joint claimants of the office.]
September 3rd, 1831 {p.188}
On Wednesday a Council was held. Very few of the Ministers stay
for the Councils; small blame to them, as the Irish say, for we
are kept about three times as long by this regular, punctual King
as by the capricious, irregular Monarch who last ruled over us.
This King is a queer fellow. Our Council was principally for a
new Great Seal and to deface the old Seal. The Chancellor claims
the old one as his perquisite. I had forgotten the hammer, so the
King said, 'My Lord, the best thing I can do is to give you the
Seal, and tell you to take it and do what you please with it.'
The Chancellor said, 'Sir, I believe there is some doubt whether
Lord Lyndhurst ought not to have half of it, as he was Chancellor
at the time of your Majesty's accession.' 'Well,' said the King,
'then I will judge between you like Solomon; here (turning the
Seal round and round), now do you cry heads or tails?' We all
laughed, and the Chancellor said, 'Sir, I take the bottom part.'
The King opened the two compartments of the Seal and said, 'Now,
then, I employ you as ministers of taste. You will send for
Bridge, my silversmith, and desire him to convert the two halves
each into a salver, with my arms on one side and yours on the
other, and Lord Lyndhurst's the same, and you will take one and
give him the other, and both keep them as presents from me.' The
Duchess of Kent will not attend the coronation, and there is a
report that the King is unwilling to make all the Peers that are
required; this is the current talk of the day.
September 5th, 1831 {p.189}
At Gorhambury since Saturday; the Harrowbys, Bathursts, Frankland
Lewes's, Lady Jersey, Mahon, Lushington, Wortleys; rather
agreeable and lively; all anti-Reformers, so no quarrelling about
that, though Lord Harrowby is ready to squabble with anybody
either way, but furiously against the Bill.
September 8th, 1831 {p.189}
Dined with the Duke of Wellington yesterday; thirty-one people,
very handsome, and the Styrian Minstrels playing and singing all
dinner time, a thing I never saw before. I sat next to Esterhazy
and talked to him (a very little) about Belgian affairs. He said
Talleyrand had given positive assurances that the French troops
should be withdrawn whenever the Dutch retired, that the other
Powers were aware of Perier's difficulties, and were ready to
concede much to keep him in power, but that if he had not
sufficient influence to repress the violent war faction there was
no use in endeavouring to support him. Our Government had behaved
very well and had been very strong in their remonstrances.
[Page Head: ANECDOTES OF GEORGE IV.]
After dinner I had much talk with the Duke, who told me a good
deal about the late King and the Duchess of Kent; talked of his
extravagance and love of spending, provided that it was not his
own money that he spent; he told an old story he had heard of
Mrs. Fitzherbert's being obliged to borrow money for his
post-horses to take him to Newmarket, that not a guinea was
forthcoming to make stakes for some match, and when on George
Leigh's[7] entreaty he allowed some box to be searched that
L3,000 was found in it. He always had money. When he died they
found L10,000 in his boxes, and money scattered about everywhere,
a great deal of gold. There were about 500 pocket-books, of
different dates, and in every one money--guineas, one pound
notes, one, two, or three in each. There never was anything like
the quantity of trinkets and trash that they found. He had never
given away or parted with anything. There was a prodigious
quantity of hair--women's hair--of all colours and lengths, some
locks with the powder and pomatum still sticking to them, heaps
of women's gloves, _gages d'amour_ which he had got at balls, and
with the perspiration still marked on the fingers, notes and
letters in abundance, but not much that was of any political
consequence, and the whole was destroyed. Of his will he said
that it was made in 1823 by Lord Eldon, very well drawn, that he
desired his executors might take all he had to pay his debts and
such legacies as he might bequeath in any codicils he should
make. He made no codicils and left no debts, so the King got all
as heir-at-law. Knighton had managed his affairs very well, and
got him out of debt. A good deal of money was disbursed in
charity, a good deal through the medium of two or three old
women. The Duke, talking of his love of ordering and expense,
said that when he was to ride at the last coronation the King
said, 'You must have a very fine saddle.' 'What sort of saddle
does your Majesty wish me to have?' 'Send Cuffe to me.'
Accordingly Cuffe went to him, and the Duke had to pay some
hundreds for his saddle. (While I am writing the King and Queen
with their _cortege_ are passing down to Westminster Abbey to the
coronation, a grand procession, a fine day, an immense crowd, and
great acclamations.)
[7] [Colonel George Leigh, who managed his race-horses; he
was married to Lord Byron's half-sister.]
[Page Head: THE DUCHESS OF KENT.]
We then talked of the Duchess of Kent, and I asked him why she
set herself in such opposition to the Court. He said that Sir
John Conroy was her adviser, that he was sure of it. What he then
told me throws some light upon her ill-humour and displays her
wrong-headedness. In the first place the late King disliked her;
the Duke of Cumberland too was her enemy, and George IV., who was
as great a despot as ever lived, was always talking of taking her
child from her, which he inevitably would have done but for the
Duke, who, wishing to prevent quarrels, did all in his power to
deter the King, not by opposing him when he talked of it, which
he often did, but by putting the thing off as well as he could.
However, when the Duchess of Cumberland came over, and there was
a question how the Royal Family would receive her, he thought he
might reconcile the Cumberlands to the Duchess of Kent by
engaging her to be civil to the Duchess of Cumberland, so he
desired Leopold to advise his sister (who was in the country)
from him very strongly to write to the Duchess of Cumberland and
express her regret at being absent on her arrival, and so
prevented from calling on her. The Duchess sent Leopold back to
the Duke to ask why he gave her this advice? The Duke replied
that he should not say why, that he knew more of what was going
on than she possibly could, that he gave her this advice for her
own benefit, and again repeated that she had better act on it.
The Duchess said she was ready to give him credit for the
goodness of his counsel, though he would not say what his reasons
were, and she did as he suggested. This succeeded, and the Duke
of Cumberland ceased to blow the coals. Matters went on quietly
till the King died. As soon as he was dead the Duchess of Kent
wrote to the Duke, and desired that she might be treated as a
Dowager Princess of Wales, with a suitable income for herself and
her daughter, who she also desired might be treated as Heiress
Apparent, and that she should have the sole control over the
allowance to be made for both. The Duke replied that her
proposition was altogether inadmissible, and that he could not
possibly think of proposing anything for her till the matters
regarding the King's Civil List were settled, but that she might
rely upon it that no measure which affected her in any way should
be considered without being imparted to her and the fullest
information given her. At this it appears she took great offence,
for she did not speak to him for a long time after.
When the Regency Bill was framed the Duke desired the King's
leave to wait upon the Duchess of Kent and show it to her, to
which his Majesty assented, and accordingly he wrote to her to
say he would call upon her the next day with the draft of the
Bill. She was at Claremont, and sent word that she was out of
town, but desired he would send it to her in the country. He said
she ought to have sent Sir John Conroy to him, or have desired
him to go to her at Claremont, which he would have done, but he
wrote her word that he could not explain by letter so fully what
he had to say as he could have done in a personal interview, but
he would do so as well as he could. In the meantime, Lord
Lyndhurst brought on the measure in the House of Lords, and she
sent Conroy up to hear him. He returned to Claremont just after
the Duchess had received the Duke's letter. Since that he has
dined with her.
[I must say the King is punctual; the cannon are now firing to
announce his arrival at the Abbey, and my clock is at the same
moment striking eleven; at eleven it was announced that he would
be there.]
His Majesty, I hear, was in great ill-humour at the levee
yesterday; contrary to his usual custom he sent for nobody, and
gave no audiences, but at ten minutes after one flounced into the
levee room; not one Minister was come but the Duke of Richmond.
Talleyrand and Esterhazy alone of the _Corps Diplomatique_ were
in the next room. He attacked the officer of the Guards for not
having his cap on his head, and sent for the officer on guard,
who was not arrived, at which he expressed great ire. It is
supposed that the peerages have put him out of temper. His
Majesty did a very strange thing about them. Though their patents
are not made out, and the new Peers are no more Peers than I am,
he desired them to appear as such in Westminster Abbey and do
homage. Colonel Berkeley asked me what he should do, and said
what the King had desired of him. I told him he should do no such
thing, and he said he would go to the Chancellor and ask him. I
don't know how it ended. Howe told me yesterday morning in
Westminster Abbey that Lord Cleveland is to be a duke, though it
is not yet acknowledged if it be so. There has been a battle
about that; they say that he got his boroughs to be made a
marquis, and got rid of them to be made a duke.[8]
[8] [The Earl of Darlington had been made Marquis of
Cleveland in 1827, and was raised to the dukedom in
January 1833.]
September 17th, 1831 {p.193}
The coronation went off well, and whereas nobody was satisfied
before it everybody was after it. No events of consequence. The
cholera has got to Berlin, and Warsaw is taken by the Russians,
who appear to have behaved with moderation. Since the deposition
of Skrznecki, and the reign of clubs and mobs and the perpetration
of massacres at Warsaw, the public sympathy for the Poles has a
good deal fallen off. The cholera, which is travelling south, is
less violent than it was in the north. It is remarkable that the
common people at Berlin are impressed with the same strange belief
that possessed those of St. Petersburg that they have been
poisoned, and Chad writes to-day that they believe there is no
such disease, and that the deaths ascribed to that malady are
produced by poison administered by the doctors, who are bribed for
that purpose; that the rich finding the poor becoming too numerous
to be conveniently governed have adopted this mode of thinning the
population, which was employed with success by the English in
India; that the foreign doctors are the delegates of a central
committee, which is formed in London and directs the proceedings,
and similar nonsense.
[Page Head: A DINNER AT ST. JAMES'S.]
The talk of the town has been about the King and a toast he gave
at a great dinner at St. James's the other day. He had ninety
guests--all his Ministers, all the great people, and all the
foreign Ambassadors. After dinner he made a long, rambling speech
in French, and ended by giving as 'a sentiment,' as he called it,
'The land we live in.' This was before the ladies left the room.
After they were gone he made another speech in French, in the
course of which he travelled over every variety of topic that
suggested itself to his excursive mind, and ended with a very
coarse toast and the words 'Honi soit qui mal y pense.' Sefton,
who told it me said he never felt so ashamed; Lord Grey was ready
to sink into the earth; everybody laughed of course, and Sefton,
who sat next to Talleyrand, said to him, 'Eh bien, que pensez-vous
de cela?' With his unmoved, immovable face he answered only,
'C'est bien remarquable.'
In the meantime Reform, which has subsided into a calm for some
time past, is approaching its termination in the House of
Commons, and as it gets near the period of a fresh campaign, and
a more arduous though a shorter one, agitation is a little
reviving. The 'Times' and other violent newspapers are moving
heaven and earth to stir up the country and intimidate the Peers,
many of whom are frightened enough already. The general opinion
at present is that the Peers created at the coronation will not
be enough to carry the Bill (they are a set of horrid rubbish
most of them), but that no more will be made at present; that the
Opposition, if united, will be strong enough to throw out the
Bill, but that they are so divided in opinion whether to oppose
the Bill on the second reading or in Committee that this
dissension will very likely enable it to pass. Up to this time
there has been no meeting, and nothing has been agreed upon, but
there would have been one convened by the Duke of Wellington but
for Lady Mornington's death, and this week they will arrange
their plan of operations. From what Sefton says (who knows and
thinks only as Brougham and Grey direct him) I conclude that the
Government are resolved the Bill shall pass, that if it is thrown
out they will do what the Tories recommended, and make as many
Peers as may be sufficient, for he said the other day he would
rather it was thrown out on the second reading than pass by a
small majority. With this resolution (which after having gone so
far is not unwise) and the feeling out of doors, pass it must,
and so sure are Government of it that they have begun to divide
the counties, and have set up an office with clerks, maps, &c.,
in the Council Office, and there the Committee sit every day.
Stoke, September 18th, 1831 {p.194}
I came here yesterday with the Chancellor, Creevey, Luttrell, my
father and mother, Esterhazy, Neumann. Brougham was tired, never
spoke, and went to bed early. This morning I got a letter from
the Lord President enclosing an order from the King for a copy of
the proceedings in Council on the marriage of the Duke of Sussex
and Lady Augusta Murray. The Chancellor told me that the young
man Sir Augustus d'Este had behaved very ill, having filed a bill
in Chancery, into which he had put all his father's love letters,
written thirty years ago, to perpetuate evidence; that it was all
done without the Duke of Sussex's consent, but that D'Este had
got Lushington's opinion that the marriage was valid on the
ground that the Marriage Act only applied to marriages contracted
here, whereas this was contracted at Rome. He said Lushington was
a great authority, but that he had no doubt he was wrong. The
King is exceedingly annoyed at it.
September 19th, 1831 {p.195}
Came to town. Talleyrand, Madame de Dino, and Alava came to Stoke
yesterday. Talleyrand had a circle, but the Chancellor talked too
much, and they rather spoilt one another. He said one neat thing.
They were talking of Madame d'Abrantes's 'Memoirs,' and of her
mother, Madame Pernon. My father said, 'M. de Marboeuf etait _un
peu_ l'amant de Madame Pernon, n'est-ce pas?' He said, 'Oui, mais
je ne _sais pas dans quelles proportions_.'
September 20th, 1831 {p.195}
[Page Head: STATE OF FRANCE.]
News arrived of great riots at Paris, on account of the Polish
business and the fall of Warsaw. Madame de Dino (who, by-the-bye,
Talleyrand says is the cleverest _man_ or _woman_ he ever knew)
said last night that she despaired of the state of things in
France, that this was no mere popular tumult, but part of an
organised system of disaffection, and that the Carlists had
joined the ultra-Republicans, that the National Guard was not to
be depended upon, that 'leur esprit etait fatigue.' Talleyrand
himself was very low, and has got no intelligence from his
Government. This morning I met Lord Grey, and walked with him. I
told him what Madame de Dino had said. He said he knew it all,
and how bad things were, and that they would be much worse if the
Reform Bill was thrown out here. I asked him how they would be
affected by that. He said that a change of Ministry here would
have a very bad effect there, from which it may be inferred that
if beaten they mean to resign. He said the French Ministry had
been very imprudent about Poland. I said, 'How? for what could
they have done? They could only get at Poland through Prussia.'
He said they might have sent a fleet to the Baltic with our
concurrence, though we could not urge them to do so. I asked him
what he thought would be the result of the dissolution of
Perier's Government; I said that there appeared to me two
alternatives, a general _bouleversement_ or the war faction in
power under the existing system. He replied he did not think
there would now be a _bouleversement_, but a Ministry of
Lafayette, Lamarque, and all that party who were impatient to
plunge France into war. I said I did not think France could look
to a successful war, for the old alliance would be re-formed
against her. He rejoined that Russia was powerless, crippled by
this contest, and under the necessity of maintaining a great army
in Poland; Austria and Prussia were both combustible, half the
provinces of the former nearly in a state of insurrection; that
the latter had enough to do to preserve quiet, and the French
would rouse all the disaffected spirit which existed in both. I
said 'then we were on the eve of that state of things which was
predicted by Canning in his famous speech.' Here we met Ellis,
and I left them.
I afterwards saw George Villiers, who told me that he knew from a
member of the Cabinet that there had been a division in it on the
question of going out if the Reform Bill should be rejected, and
that it had been carried by a majority that they should. He told
me also a curious thing about Stanley's Arms Bill: that it had
never been imparted to Lord Anglesey, nor to the Cabinet here,
and that Lord Grey had been obliged to write an apology to Lord
Anglesey, and to tell him he (Lord Grey) had himself seen the
Bill for the first time in the newspapers. This he had from Lord C.,
who is a great friend of Lord Anglesey's, and who had seen Lord
Grey's letter before he left Ireland; but the story appears to me
quite incredible, and is probably untrue.