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 {p.043}
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 {p.044}
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 {p.044}
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 {p.044}
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.]
[Page Head: THE CLERKSHIP OF THE COUNCIL.]
March 22nd, 1821 {p.044}
I was sworn in the day before yesterday, and kissed hands at a
Council at Carlton House yesterday morning as Clerk of the
Council.
March 25th, 1821 {p.045}
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 {p.045}
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 {p.045}
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, 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.'
[Page Head: THE DEATH OF LADY WORCESTER.]
May 12th, 1821 {p.047}
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 {p.048}
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.]
[Page Head: THE PAVILION.]
December 18th, 1821 {p.049}
I have not written anything for months. 'Quante cose mi 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 {p.049}
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 {p.050}
Since I wrote last I have been continually in town. I have won on
the Derby, my sister is married,[8] and 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 {p.051}
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.
[Page Head: DEATH OF LORD LONDONDERRY.]
August 13th, 1822 {p.051}
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.]
[Page Head: CHARACTER OF LORD LONDONDERRY.]
I had hardly any acquaintance with Lord Londonderry, and
therefore am not in the slightest degree affected by his death.
As a Minister he is a great loss to his party, and still greater
to his friends and dependents, to whom he was the best of
patrons; to the country I think he is none. Nobody can deny that
his talents were great, and perhaps he owed his influence and
authority as much to his character as to his abilities. His
appearance was dignified and imposing; he was affable in his
manners and agreeable in society. The great feature of his
character was a cool and determined courage, which gave an
appearance of resolution and confidence to all his actions, and
inspired his friends with admiration and excessive 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 {p.019}
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 £3,000 or £5,000; I forget which. There is also
a bath in his apartment, with pipes to conduct water from the
sea; these pipes cost £600. 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 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 {p.055}
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.
[Page Head: CANNING RETURNS TO OFFICE.]
September 22nd, 1822 {p.055}
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 himself.' She knew what had passed with the King, and
was the only person to whom he had told it.
September 23rd, 1822 {p.057}
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.
[Page Head: QUEEN CAROLINE'S RETURN.]
November 5th, 1822 {p.057}
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.]
[Page Head: CANNING AND GEORGE IV.]
Welbeck, November 16th, 1822 {p.058}
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 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.]
[Page Head: LORD WILLIAM BENTINCK.]
London, November 24th, 1822 {p.059}
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] 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 {p.062}
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.
[Page Head: DUKE OF YORK'S DISLIKE TO WELLINGTON.]
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 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.
[Page Head: GEORGE THE THIRD'S WILL.]
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 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 £120,000.
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.
[Page Head: THE CONGRESS OF VERONA.]
January 25th, 1823 {p.065}
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 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.
[Page Head: DUKE OF WELLINGTON ON FRENCH INTERVENTION.]
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
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.
[Page Head: DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S RECOLLECTIONS.]
The Duke saw the King of France twice while he was in Paris. He
was much broken, but talked of living twelve or fourteen years.
The second time he was in better health and spirits than the
first time. Madame du Cayla sent to the Duke to ask him to call
upon her; he went twice and she was not at home. At his levee the
King said, '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 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.]
[Page Head: DUKE OF YORK'S ANECDOTES OF GEORGE IV.]
November 29th, 1823 {p.073}
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 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.
[Page Head: CHARACTER OF LORD TITCHFIELD.]
March 6th, 1824 {p.075}
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.]