1838 (_continued_)
_Friday, 1st June._—I also told Lord Melbourne that I quite approved
of what he had written to me (also in the afternoon) about the Homage
at the Coronation; namely, that the Peers should _kiss my hand_; Lord
Melbourne smiled when I said this. Lord Melbourne had left Lady Holland
in a great fright, fearing there would be a thunderstorm, of which she
is dreadfully afraid. We spoke of thunderstorms, of people being afraid
of them, of there being always a certain degree of danger; of the
danger of standing under a tree. I told Lord Melbourne I never could
forgive him for having stood under a tree in that violent thunderstorm
at Windsor last year; he said, “It’s a hundred to one that you’re not
struck,” and then added smiling: “It’s a sublime death.” Spoke ...
of Lord Durham for some time, of whose arrival we think we must soon
hear. Lord Melbourne said, “I’ll bet you he’ll go by Bermuda,” which
would be a good deal out of his way; I asked Lord Melbourne what could
make Lord Durham wish to go there. He replied, “I’m sure I don’t know
why he’s got it into his head, but I’ll bet you he’ll go there.” Spoke
of my fear that Lord Melbourne was right in what he said about Lady
Mary Lambton’s[498] great regret at leaving England, the other day;
namely, her being attached to John Ponsonby,[499] which we think seems
likely, as he (J. Ponsonby) is the ONLY person to whom Lady Mary has
written since she left England. Spoke of Epsom, and Lord Melbourne said
there was scarcely ever “a Derby without somebody killing himself;
generally somebody kills himself; it is not perfect without that,” he
said laughing. Spoke of _Don Giovanni_, and the Statue having laughed
so much the other night (about which Lablache told him he was so
distressed), and Lord Melbourne said the _original_ Piece and Music was
very old; and on my observing that I thought _this_ music by Mozart
old-fashioned, he clasped his hands and looked up in astonishment....
_Sunday, 3rd June._—We spoke of Music; of Lord Melbourne’s going to
sleep when Thomas Moore was singing, which he would hardly allow.
Lord Melbourne quoted some lines to prove that Lydian music used to
put people to sleep; and of Phrygian music, which made people fight.
I showed Lord Melbourne the 1st number of a work called, _Portraits
of the Female Aristocracy_. Then he, and also I, looked at a new Work
called _Sketches of the People and Country of the Island of Zealand_,
which are very well done. Lord Melbourne said, in opening it, “These
are a fine race, but they eat men, and they say it’s almost impossible
to break them of it.” He farther added, “There are no _animals_
whatever there, and therefore they are obliged to eat men.” Lady
Mulgrave observed that she thought they only eat their enemies; Lord
Melbourne said, “I fancy they eat them pretty promiscuously.” Lord
Melbourne was in excellent spirits, and very funny in his remarks
about the different drawings; it’s always my delight to make him look
at these sorts of things, as his remarks are always so clever and
funny. He again said that it was so difficult to break them (the New
Zealanders) of eating men; “for they say it’s the very best thing,”
which made us laugh. He added, “There was an old woman who was sick,
and they asked her what she would like to have; and she said, ‘I think
I could eat a little piece of the small bone of a boy’s head,’” and he
pointed laughing to his own head, explaining _what_ part of the head
that small bone was.... Lord Melbourne went on speaking of New Zealand,
&c., and said, “The English eat up everything wherever they go; they
exterminate everything”; and Lady Mulgrave and Mr. Murray[500] also
said that wherever the English went, they always would have everything
their own way, and never would accommodate themselves to other
countries. “A person in a public situation should write as few private
letters as possible”....
_Monday, 4th June._—Spoke of the Eton Montem, and I told Lord Melbourne
I was going to the Provost’s house, which he said he was very glad
of. There were two Montems while he was at Eton; he said no one knows
the origin of the Eton Montem. Formerly there used to be, he said, a
Mock Sermon at Salt Hill; a boy dressed like a clergyman and another
like a clerk delivered a sort of sermon, and in the middle of it the
other boys kicked them down the hill; George III. put a stop to it,
as he thought it very improper. We spoke of the Montem, and of giving
money, and Lord Melbourne said he thought he should give £20. I asked
Lord Melbourne what he did when Lady Holland goes down to Brocket.
“Oh! I give up the whole house to her,” he replied. And he says she
twists everything about; not only in her own room but in other rooms
downstairs. Then she swears she has too much light, and puts out all
the candles; then too little, and sends for more candles; then she
shuts up first one window, then another. I showed him in the Genealogy
of _Lodge’s Peerage_ how Lord Barham came to his title and how he was
related to the Earl of Gainsborough. In looking over it, Lord Melbourne
began to speak of Sir Charles Midleton, First Lord of the Admiralty,
made 1st Lord Barham, and maternal grandfather to Lord Barham. He said
he was a most distinguished and clever man. He told me, with the tears
in his eyes, an anecdote of what he (Sir C. Midleton) did at the time
of the Mutiny.[501] He was very much for those people and said, “I used
always to think those poor fellows very hardly treated”; but when he
heard of the Mutiny, he ordered two 74-gun ships to be put broadside of
the ship in which the Mutineers were, and desire her to surrender, and
if she did not, to send her to the bottom. So they said to him, “But if
the men should disobey?” “Why, then we shall be in a scrape; but give
your orders steadily and they won’t disobey.” “That was very fine,”
said Lord Melbourne. Spoke of clothes, about which Lord Melbourne was
very funny; said the fewer you had the better, and that he was certain
it was very bad to keep things in _store_, at which we laughed much,
and said it would be impossible for ladies to keep dresses in store,
as the fashions always changed; and he was against keeping furs, as he
said “The moth doth corrupt.” Spoke of Miss Chaworth, Byron’s first
admiration, about whom Lord Melbourne told a story on Sunday, which I
did not quite understand, and I begged him to repeat it which he did.
It was as follows:—Miss Chaworth was told that she would like Lord
Byron very much (she _did_ admire him) and would in fact marry him.
She said, No, she never would; for that if ever she married, it should
be a man with two straight legs (Byron having one leg and foot quite
deformed[502] from his birth, which made him limp very much); this was
told to Byron, whom it shocked most exceedingly, as he was extremely
unhappy and conscious of his lameness, and made him quite indignant.
He went to her, made her copy a piece of music for him (they had been
in the habit of singing together) in order to have a remembrance of
her, took it, left the house, and never saw her again. Lord Melbourne
told me there was an awkwardness between the two families; as in George
II.’s reign Miss Chaworth’s ancestor was killed in a duel by a Lord
Byron; they quarrelled at a Club, went upstairs, fought and Chaworth
was killed[503]; Lord Melbourne said it was always suspected that he
had been killed unfairly, as Chaworth was known to be the best fencer
there was, and it was thought that Byron passed his sword through him
before they fought. Miss Chaworth married afterwards a Mr. Musters and
was very unhappy; lived on bad terms with her husband, and at last died
deranged. Lord Melbourne said he saw her once, he went over to her
place, Annesley, when he was staying in Nottinghamshire in 1813, and
stayed there two days. She was then living on very bad terms with her
husband, and everything was in a very uncomfortable state; but she was
very kind to Lord Melbourne. I asked Lord Melbourne where Lord Byron
made the acquaintance of his cousin, Miss Milbanke, now the Dowager
Lady Byron; he said at his house, at Whitehall, where Byron used to
come. Spoke of Irish and Italian servants, who Lord Melbourne says are
very uncertain and not to be trusted. I asked Lord Melbourne if he had
good servants; he said, “Not very”; he added, “I’m told that great
drunkenness prevails in my house,” but that _he_ never saw it, and as
long as that was the case, he could not much complain; he, _of course_,
can’t look after them. The man he always takes about with him, when
he comes here, he says is a very steady, exact man, and always ready;
he has risen from being a steward’s boy in his house. He told me that
he has but few servants; a butler, this man, an under butler, and one
footman; that’s all. He’s likewise told that his expenses in comparison
to other people’s are very great; that the profuseness in his country
house was beyond everything, people told him; _he_ does _not_ think the
expense very great, in fact he says it _cannot_ be, as he is so little
at home.
_Tuesday, 5th June._—At a ¼ to 11 we got into our carriages for Montem.
Mamma and Lady Mulgrave were with me; Lord Melbourne, Miss Paget, Lord
Albemarle and Lady Flora were in the next carriage to mine; then Lady
Theresa, Miss Dillon, Lord Conyngham, and Miss Davys; and lastly Lord
Lilford, Mr. Murray; Colonel Wemyss and Col. Cavendish. These carriages
_preceded_ us in going to Eton. We were stopped on the Bridge for
“Salt.” When we reached Eton College we were received there by the
Provost,[504] Dr. Hawtrey,[505] and the other Fellows; we went under
the Cloisters and saw all the boys march by, 3 times, which is a pretty
sight; some of the boys were beautifully dressed. We then all went up
to one of the rooms in the Provost’s house, where we looked out of the
window and saw the flag flourished; we then took some luncheon at the
Provost’s, I sitting between the Provost and Lord Melbourne. The only
people besides our own party there, were, Mrs. Goodall (the Provost’s
wife), Lady Braybrooke,[506] Edward of Saxe-Weimar,[507] Mr. Wood,[508]
and two nieces of the Provost’s. The room in which we lunched is hung
round with many portraits of the young men (now mostly, if indeed not
all, old) who had been at Eton; amongst which were Lord Grey’s, Lord
Holland’s, Lord Wellesley’s, Mr. Canning’s.[509] Lord Melbourne’s was
not there, which it _ought_ to have been. Lord Melbourne, said he
had been painted by Hoppner, for Dr. Langford (his Master, but not
the _Head_ Master, who was then Dr. Heath), and had been sold at the
sale of his things when he died.[510] Lord Melbourne said that Lord
Holland had a fine countenance when young, but always _lame_, there
being some ossification in one of his legs; he was “very slim” when
young!! After luncheon we got into our carriages again (the other
carriages _following_ mine), and drove to Salt Hill, where we saw the
boy again flourish the flag. The heat was _quite intense_, and the
crowd _enormous_! We got back to the Castle at 20 m. to 2. I saw Lord
Melbourne from 7 m. to 2 till 7 m. p. 2, in my room on my return. He
said he was not tired, and was very anxious I should not be so. Spoke
of the Montem, the fine boys; he thought they looked “very sheepish”
and shy as they marched by; and the boy (a great big boy) who held up
the bag for “Salt,” very shy, on the bridge. Lord Melbourne gave £10;
and I £100. Lord Melbourne thought that the Provost and Mrs. Goodall,
knew nobody, for she took Lord Melbourne for Lord Ebrington. It is 69
years, Lord Melbourne told me (the Provost had said) since he (the
Provost) walked in a Montem! Lord Melbourne was going to dine at Lord
Anglesey’s. He said he was going away directly. He had neither slept
well. At ½ p. 2 I left Windsor (as I came the day before), and reached
Buckingham Palace at ½ p. 4 or 20 m. to 5....
_Wednesday, 6th June._—I showed him the letter from Uncle Leopold
which I got yesterday, and in which he touches upon these unhappy
Affairs, wishing _me_ to prevent my Government from taking the lead
in these Affairs, &c., &c.; and saying his position is _des plus
embarassantes_. Lord Melbourne read it over with great attention, and
then spoke of it all most _kindly_ and sensibly; said he did not see
how we could get out of this Territorial Arrangement; said he felt
that Uncle’s position was not an agreeable one, for that he was made
to do what his people disliked and what was extremely unpopular; “and
people and countries never make allowances for the difficulties Kings
are placed in; the King is made the Instrument of an Act which is
extremely unpopular; and all the blame will fall upon him.” All this
is most true; we spoke of this, and of its being rather hard of Uncle
appealing to my feelings of affection for him. I told him what Uncle
had said of Stockmar to Van de Weyer, and that Stockmar said he did not
fear all this, and was sure that Uncle would give way in a little time.
Lord Melbourne said, “He always says that the pressure of circumstances
will make him give way, but I think he trusts everything to that
power”; which Lord Melbourne does not think always is the case. He
was going to show the letter to Lord Palmerston. I showed him another
letter from Ferdinand in answer to mine to him about the Slave Trade;
he seems very anxious to do what we wish, but stated the difficulties
are so great; which Lord Melbourne said was true.... Before this, Lord
Melbourne said, “Immense crowd at the Montem; my servant told me he
never saw such a number of people.” Lord Melbourne was in sight of us,
in coming to London, already before Datchet. His servant also told him
that there were _72_ pair of Post-horses sent down the road yesterday,
and he (Ld. M.) paid 8 guineas for going; whereas in general he only
pays 4. Spoke of the Montem; and of the boys there; the Collegers
generally stay longer than the others; they must stay till there is
a vacancy at King’s, unless they are past 19; he says there are much
fewer little boys than there used to be; the Provost told him “they had
only 20 in the lower form.” “People don’t send their children as early
as they used to do.” We spoke of the Montem; the deal of money said to
have been collected, more than ever was known. Lord Melbourne spoke
of the boy who held the bag and looked so sheepish; of the Provost,
who Lord Melbourne said was an excellent Master; that nobody could
make a lesson so pleasant to the boys; and that he was “a beautiful
scholar” and “a good-natured man.” Lord Melbourne said that “A Master
should have great spirits; better spirits than all the boys.” He went
on saying, “It’s now 42 years ago since I left Eton, and I should like
very much to be put back to that time.” He would not like, he said, to
go through all he _had_ gone through; but to go back to that time, with
his _present_ experience; “I should manage them all so much better,” he
said laughing. He spoke of the extreme love of contradiction children
have; of the great deal of disputing there used to be formerly in
private Society. Lord Egremont used to say, that Society was not near
so amusing as it used to be; people were all so well educated, that
there were no more any originals to be seen. Lord Melbourne said the
love of arguing was at an amazing height when he was born; “People used
to argue till they got into a passion and swore at each other.” That
people always would find the other in the wrong....
_Sunday, 10th June._—I told Lord Melbourne that the Queen Dowager had
come to me the day before, and had told me that Chambers[511] had told
her that she must not pass another winter in England, and wished her
to go to Madeira, which she declared was too far off; he then named
Malta, to which she assented, and asked my leave to go, and to have
a frigate to go in; about which Lord Melbourne said there could not
be the slightest difficulty. I said she told me she preferred Malta,
as being still in _my_ dominions.... Lady Mulgrave began saying how
much mischief the Eton boys committed after the Montem, hacking and
cutting things all to pieces. Of the Montem, its origin; the wish
of some to abolish it; the Provost’s declaring he never would. The
Provost, he told us, is the son of the butler of Lord Lichfield’s
grandfather. Spoke of Dr. Hawtrey’s introducing much new learning,
which the Provost disliked. Spoke of what the boys learn, and many
coming away amazingly ignorant. What makes the school one, Lord
Melbourne said, is that the most gentlemanly boys are sent there. Lord
Melbourne told us that Talleyrand said, “La _meilleure_ éducation,
c’est l’éducation Publique Anglaise; et c’est _détestable_!” There is
one Head Master and an Under Master, and eight other Masters at Eton,
Lord Melbourne said. The Masters, he says, who are quite young men,
often require more keeping in order and are more irregular than the
boys. “_My opinion is_,” said Lord Melbourne, “that it does not much
signify _what_ is taught, if what’s taught is _well_ taught.” Then he
added, “People too often confound learning and knowledge with talent
and abilities”; for that the two former could not make the two latter.
Lord Melbourne was sent to Eton at 9 years old, but had been with a
clergyman before, who taught him on quite a different principle, but
very well; made him work very hard, with a dictionary, by himself, and
at Eton they construe it to you first; “so that when I came to Eton
I was infinitely superior to most of the other boys, and I could do
my lessons and theirs too.” That’s because he _always_ was cleverer
than most other people. He said, “I never was so surprised as when I
came there; I did not know what to do. It was perhaps 12 o’clock, and
they said that I might stay out till two. I said, ‘What can I do? Who
is to stay with me now?’ I thought it then very odd, for I had been
accustomed to have 2 or 3 nursery-maids after me, not allowing me to
wet my heels near the water; and here you are let into a field alone,
with a river running through it, which is 10 feet deep at the bank;
and if you make a false step you’re drowned to a certainty.” Then he
said his father gave him a great deal of money, and he ate such a
quantity of tarts, made himself so sick, though he was only there three
weeks when he first went—that he was very ill when he went home, with
eruptions and spots over his face. This made us laugh much. Spoke of
the fighting there, and that the Masters should never allow it to go
on long. “I always yielded directly,” he said, “if I found the boy too
much for me; after the first round if I found I could not lick the
fellow, I gave it up, and said, ‘Come, this won’t do, I’ll go away,
it’s no use standing to be knocked to pieces.’” All this and a great
deal more Lord Melbourne told us in the funniest, most delightful way
possible; he is _so_ amusing about himself, and so clever and sensible
about education.
_Monday, 11th June._—At 20 m. to 2 Lord Palmerston introduced the
Prince de Ligne to me, Uncle Leopold’s Ambassador to me for the
Coronation; I then went into the Drawing-room where the Prince de Ligne
(who is a gentlemanlike and rather young man) introduced five other
Belgian gentlemen, who have accompanied him. I hear he came in the
most splendid equipage, with four grey horses. At 7 m. to 2 came my
good Lord Melbourne and stayed with me till 5 m. to 3. He said he was
well, and we spoke of the weather. He then told me of the difficulty
of replacing the Chief Baron of Ireland (Joy, of whose death he had
told me last Friday), and he said it was wished, and he thought it was
best, to make O’Loghlen, now Master of the Rolls, Chief Baron, and to
offer the Mastership of the Rolls to O’Connell; he said O’Connell might
possibly refuse it, but that it might likewise satisfy him and his
party; on the other hand, the difficulties are, that O’Connell might
not give up his _agitation_, and that “we,” as Lord Melbourne says, may
be attacked for it by the other party. He then asked me twice over,
“Have you any particular feeling about it?” I said none whatever, and
therefore it is left to Ministers to offer it, or not, as they may
think fit.[512]
_Wednesday, 13th June._—I made Lady Mary Paget[513] sing after
dinner which she did beautifully, two songs before the gentlemen
came in, the pretty one from _The Ambassadrice_, and one by Alari;
Lady Adelaide[514] accompanying her in the last. The gentlemen then
came in; after this Lady Mary sang the other song by Alari which she
sang at Buckingham Palace; and then “Ah! non giunge” (Lady Adelaide
accompanying her), _most beautifully_, with all Persiani’s ornaments.
They, particularly Lord Anglesey, then insisted on _my_ singing; which
I did, but literally shaking with fear and fright. I sang “Il superbo
vinctor” from _Il Giuramento_. Lord Melbourne stood opposite me,
_listening_, which really is marvellous, considering he does not care
the least about music. Lady Mary sang a very pretty little thing from
_Beatrice_; and I then sang “Sogno talor.” We then sat down (at a ¼ p.
10), I sitting on the sofa with Lady Surrey, Lord Melbourne sitting
near me the whole evening, and several of the other ladies sitting
round the table. I observed to Lord Melbourne how dreadfully frightened
I had been; and he smiled and said “I can quite understand it.” Talked
of Ascot Races; Lord Melbourne said he had not been to Ascot Races
since he left Eton, _42_ years ago!! The Eton boys are now not allowed
to go to Ascot, but in Lord Melbourne’s days they were much less severe
than they are now. “My brother” (Pen Lamb) “was a great man on the
Turf. I used always to go to him; I always got leave all the week,
and used to go all the week, and very good fun it used to be,” Lord
Melbourne said.
_Thursday, 14th June._—Spoke of Miss Pitt, and of our fearing she was
attached to her brother-in-law; Lord Melbourne said such a marriage
could not take place now[515]; that the _Law_ preventing it was only
made last year. Till then such a marriage could take place; but was
void, if any of the parties made objections to such marriage. This Bill
made good all such marriages which had taken place (like the Duke of
Beaufort’s[516]) but prevented any others being made. Lord Melbourne
said he did not know if it was right or wrong; we spoke of it for a
little while.[517] I then asked him if he thought it would be well, if,
on occasions like the Races, I should wear my Star and Ribbon; he said
yes.[518] I said to him also, that, if he did not dislike it, I should
be so very happy if he would wear the Windsor Uniform when he came down
to Windsor; he replied kindly, “I shall be very happy,” and I added I
hoped he would often be at Windsor.[519]
_Friday, 15th June._—I told him that I had been reading in the morning
in Coxe’s _Life of Walpole_; which I found very interesting, but that
I had got a good deal puzzled with the South Sea Company, and the
_Redeemable_ and _Irredeemable_ debt; and that it was very difficult
and puzzling, which he said it was, and that I should not trouble or
puzzle myself with that part of the book, which is not clearly written;
and he explained to me in a few words and in his clear delightful
way, like a father to his child, this difficult South Sea Scheme. We
spoke of that strange proposition, the Peerage Bill,[520] which is
curiously told in Coxe’s _Life_. “That was all a party scheme,” said
Lord Melbourne; “and done with a view to cripple George II.” “If that
had been done,” he continued, “there would be hardly any peerages left
now.” Lord Melbourne was speaking of how many peerages, _of that time_,
were extinct; and that there were now 20 peers in the House of Lords
without heirs. I likewise told him that the Duke of Wellington had let
me know that George IV. and William IV. always wore the _Order of the
Bath_ on that day—Waterloo Day—as also on the anniversary of the battle
of Trafalgar; and I asked Lord Melbourne if he thought I should do so,
or not. He said he thought I should. I observed I did not like giving
up my _Blue Ribbon_, _even_ for one night; but if he wished it I would
do so. He said, “If you don’t dislike it, I think you should do it; it
will be considered a compliment to the Army....”[521]
_Monday, 18th June._—Lord Melbourne then gave me a list of the
Creations and Advancements which are to take place, which are as
follows:
The Earl of Mulgrave Marquis of Normanby
Lord Dundas Earl of Zetland
The Earl of Kintore Baron Kintore
(Scotch)
The Viscount Lismore Baron Lismore of Shanbally
(Irish) Castle in the
County of Tipperary
The Lord Rossmore Baron Rossmore of the
(Irish) County of Monaghan
The Lord Carew Baron Carew of Castle
(Irish) Boro in the County of
Wexford
The Hon. Wm. S. C. Baron de Mauley
Ponsonby
Sir John Wrottesley, Baron Wrottesley of
Bart. Wrottesley in the
County of Stafford
Charles Hanbury Baron Sudeley
Tracy, Esq.
Paul Methuen, Esq., of Baron Methuen of Corsham.
Corsham in the
County of Wilts
Lord Melbourne said he wished to add two more,[522] with my consent,
namely, Lord King,[523] an Earl; and to call up Lord Carmarthen[524] to
the House of Lords. I of course consented to both. Before I say another
word, I must not omit to mention that I wrote a letter to Stockmar
begging him to mention to Lord Melbourne my anxious wish to give him
the _Blue Ribbon_ (which I offered to him through Stockmar already last
year, immediately upon my accession, and which he refused in the most
noble manner), as I said I felt I owed him so much; and he had been
and was so very kind to me that it would grieve me to be giving other
people honours whom I cared not about, and him nothing. Stockmar told
me this morning he had shown Lord Melbourne my letter and that Lord
Melbourne would speak to me on the subject. Accordingly Lord Melbourne
said to me, “The Baron showed me your letter, and I feel very grateful,
I am very sensible of Your Majesty’s kindness”; upon which I assured
him he was quite right (having previously heard from Stockmar that
he would decline it); “I hope,” he continued, “you don’t think I’ve
any contempt for these things, but it gives me such a command”; which
is most true; “and therefore you’ll allow me to decline it.”[525] I
added I thought him quite right but that _I_ could not do less. This
is a fine noble disinterested act, and worthy of Lord Melbourne, and
I honour, esteem and admire him the more for it; it only increases my
fondness of him....[526] [**F1: no anchor apparent in text]
_Friday, 22nd June._—At a ¼ p. 2 came Marshal Soult, Due de Dalmatie,
who was introduced by Lord Glenelg. I was very curious to see him; he
is not tall, but very broad, and one leg quite crooked from having been
severely wounded; his complexion is dark, and he has the appearance
of great age; his features are hard, and he speaks slowly and
indistinctly. His eyes are piercing; he seemed much embarrassed. I then
went into the outer room, where he presented his 12 (I think) Attachés
to me, amongst whom were the Marquis de Dalmatie (his son), and his
son-in-law. Wrote to Aunt Louise. At 3 came Lord Melbourne, and stayed
with me till 4. He asked how I was, and was sorry to hear I had so much
to do. I told him I had just seen Soult, who was so much embarrassed;
which Lord Melbourne said he was also when he came to him; and that he
never would understand anything, and that he made Lord Melbourne repeat
the things over 20 times. He gave me a list of the names to be made
Baronets on the occasion of the Coronation; there are 30; amongst whom
are Mr. E. Lytton Bulwer and Mr. Micklethwait,[527] which last I must
say Lord Melbourne has been most exceedingly kind about. I then begged
him to add (to write down) the two following names to the list of Peers
which he gave me the other day, and which he did; Lord King to be Earl
of Lovelace, and Viscount Ockham in the County of Surrey; and the
Marquis of Carmarthen to be called up by the title of Baron Osborne....
_Wednesday, 27th June._—At 20 m. p. 4 I went with Lady Lansdowne and
Lady Barham (the Duchess of Sutherland going in her own carriage,
as she feared an open one), and Lord Conyngham and Col. Wemyss to
Westminster Abbey to see all the Preparations for to-morrow. The
streets were full of people, and preparations of all kinds. I was
received at the Abbey by Lord Melbourne, the Duke of Norfolk, Sir
William Woods,[528] and Sir Benjamin Stevenson. The whole thing is
beautifully and splendidly and very conveniently done; Lord Melbourne
made me try the various thrones (that is, two) which was very
fortunate, as they were both too low. I came home again as I went
(crowds in the streets and all _so_ friendly) at 5. The preparations
for Fairs, Balloons, &c. in the Parks, quite changes all, and the
encampments of the Artillery, with all their white tents, has a very
pretty effect. I did not think Lord Melbourne looking well, though he
said he was better. I’m very glad I went to the Abbey, as I shall now
know exactly where I’m to go, and be. The Duchess of Sutherland came
to ask for further Orders a few minutes after I had got home, and said
she had taken Lord Melbourne in her carriage to Downing Street which
is only one step from the Abbey. He walked _to_ the Abbey. Wrote my
journal. At ½ p. 7 we dined.
_Thursday, 28th June!_—I was awoke at four o’clock by the guns in
the Park, and could not get much sleep afterwards on account of the
noise of the people, bands, &c., &c. Got up at 7 feeling strong and
well; the Park presented a curious spectacle; crowds of people up to
Constitution Hill, soldiers, bands, &c. I dressed, having taken a
little breakfast before I dressed, and a little after. At ½ p. 9 I
went into the next room dressed exactly in my House of Lords costume;
and met Uncle Ernest, Charles and Feodore (who had come a few minutes
before into my dressing-room), Lady Lansdowne, Lady Normanby, the
Duchess of Sutherland, and Lady Barham, all in their robes. At 10 I
got into the State Coach with the Duchess of Sutherland and Lord
Albemarle, and we began our Progress. It was a fine day, and the crowds
of people exceeded what I have ever seen; many as there were the day
I went to the City, it was nothing—nothing to the multitudes, the
millions of my loyal subjects who were assembled in _every spot_ to
witness the Procession. Their good-humour and excessive loyalty was
beyond everything, and I really cannot say _how_ proud I feel to be
the Queen of _such_ a _Nation_. I was alarmed at times for fear that
the people would be crushed and squeezed on account of the tremendous
rush and pressure. I reached the Abbey amid deafening cheers at a
little after ½ p. 11; I first went into a robing-room quite close to
the entrance, where I found my eight Train-bearers: Lady Caroline
Lennox, Lady Adelaide Paget, Lady Mary Talbot, Lady Fanny Cowper, Lady
Wilhelmina Stanhope, Lady Anne Fitzwilliam, Lady Mary Grimston, and
Lady Louisa Jenkinson,—all dressed alike and beautifully, in white
satin and silver tissue, with wreaths of silver corn-ears in front,
and a small one of pink roses round the plait behind, and pink roses
in the trimming of the dresses. After putting on my Mantle, and the
young ladies having properly got hold of it, and Lord Conyngham holding
the end of it, I left the robing-room and the Procession began. The
sight was splendid; the bank of Peeresses quite beautiful, all in
their robes, and the Peers on the other side. My young Train-bearers
were always near me, and helped me whenever I wanted anything. The
Bishop of Durham[529] stood on one side near me. At the beginning of
the Anthem where I’ve made a mark, I retired to St. Edward’s Chapel,
a small dark place immediately behind the Altar, with my Ladies and
Train-bearers; took off my crimson robe and kirtle and put on the
Supertunica of Cloth of Gold, also in the shape of a kirtle, which was
put over a singular sort of little gown of linen trimmed with lace; I
also took off my circlet of diamonds, and then proceeded bare-headed
into the Abbey; I was then seated upon St. Edward’s chair where the
Dalmatic robe was clasped round me by the Lord Great Chamberlain.
Then followed all the various things; and last (of those things) the
Crown being placed on my head;—which was, I must own, a most beautiful
impressive moment; _all_ the Peers and Peeresses put on their Coronets
at the same instant. My excellent Lord Melbourne, who stood very close
to me throughout the whole ceremony, was _completely_ overcome at this
moment, and very much affected; he gave me _such_ a kind, and I may
say _fatherly_ look. The shouts, which were very great, the drums, the
trumpets, the firing of the guns, all at the same instant, rendered
the spectacle most imposing. The Enthronization and the Homage of, 1st
all the Bishops, then my Uncles, and lastly of all the Peers, in their
respective order, was very fine. The Duke of Norfolk (holding for me
the Sceptre with a Cross) with Lord Melbourne, stood close to me on my
right, and the Duke of Richmond with the other Sceptre on my left. All
my Train-bearers standing behind the Throne. Poor old Lord Rolle, who
is 82 and dreadfully infirm, in attempting to ascend the steps, fell
and rolled quite down, but was not the least hurt; when he attempted
to reascend them I got up and advanced to the end of the steps, in
order to prevent another fall. When Lord Melbourne’s turn to do Homage
came, there was loud cheering; they also cheered Lord Grey and the
Duke of Wellington; it’s a pretty ceremony; they first all touch the
Crown; and then kiss my hand. When my good Lord Melbourne knelt down
and kissed my hand, he pressed my hand and I grasped his with all my
heart, at which he looked up with his eyes filled with tears and seemed
much touched, as he was, I observed, throughout the whole ceremony.
After the Homage was concluded I left the Throne, took off my Crown and
received the Sacrament; I then put on my Crown again, and re-ascended
the Throne, leaning on Lord Melbourne’s arm; at the commencement of the
Anthem I descended from the Throne, and went into St. Edward’s Chapel
with my Ladies, Train-bearers, and Lord Willoughby, where I took off
the Dalmatic robe, Supertunica, and put on the Purple Velvet Kirtle and
Mantle, and proceeded again to the Throne, which I ascended leaning
on Lord Melbourne’s hand. There was another present at this ceremony,
in the box immediately above the Royal Box, and who witnessed all; it
was Lehzen, whose eyes I caught when on the Throne, and we exchanged
smiles. She and Späth, Lady John Russell and Mr. Murray saw me leave
the Palace, arrive at the Abbey, leave the Abbey and again return to
the Palace!! I then again descended from the Throne, and repaired
with all the Peers bearing the Regalia, my Ladies and Train-bearers,
to St. Edward’s Chapel, as it is called; but which, as Lord Melbourne
said, was more _unlike_ a Chapel than anything he had ever seen; for,
what was _called_ an _Altar_ was covered with sandwiches, bottles
of wine, &c. The Archbishop came in and _ought_ to have delivered
the Orb to me, but I had already got it. There we waited for some
minutes; Lord Melbourne took a glass of wine, for he seemed completely
tired; the Procession being formed, I replaced my Crown (which I had
taken off for a few minutes), took the Orb in my left hand and the
Sceptre in my right, and thus _loaded_ proceeded through the Abbey,
which resounded with cheers, to the first Robing-room, where I found
the Duchess of Gloucester, Mamma, and the Duchess of Cambridge with
their ladies. And here we waited for at least an hour, with _all_ my
ladies and Train-bearers; the Princesses went away about half an hour
before I did; the Archbishop had put the ring on the wrong finger,
and the consequence was that I had the greatest difficulty to take
it off again,—which I at last did with great pain. Lady Fanny, Lady
Wilhelmina, and Lady Mary Grimston looked quite beautiful. At about ½
p. 4 I re-entered my carriage, the Crown on my head and Sceptre and
Orb in my hand, and we proceeded the same way as we came—the crowds if
possible having increased. The enthusiasm, affection and loyalty was
really touching, and I shall ever remember this day as the _proudest_
of my life. I came home at a little after 6,—really _not_ feeling
tired.[530]
At 8 we dined. Besides we 13, Lord Melbourne and Lord Surrey[531] dined
here. Lord Melbourne came up to me and said, “I must congratulate you
on this most brilliant day,” and that all had gone off _so_ well. He
said he was not tired, and was in high spirits. I sat between Uncle
Ernest and Lord Melbourne, and Lord Melbourne between me and Feodore,
whom he had led in. My kind Lord Melbourne was much affected in
speaking of the whole ceremony. He asked kindly if I was tired; said
the Sword he carried (the 1st, the Sword of State) was excessively
heavy. I said that the Crown hurt me a good deal. He was much amused at
Uncle Ernest’s being astonished at our still having the Litany[532];
we agreed that the whole thing was a very fine sight. He thought the
robes,[533] and particularly the Dalmatic, “looked remarkably well.”
“And you did it all so well; excellent!” said he with the tears in his
eyes. He said he thought I looked rather pale, and “moved by all the
people” when I arrived; “and that’s natural.” The Archbishop’s and
Dean’s Copes (which were remarkably handsome) were from James the 1st’s
time; the very same that were worn at his Coronation, Lord Melbourne
told me. Spoke of the Duc de Nemours[534] being like his father in
face; of the young ladies’ (Train-bearers’) dresses which he thought
beautiful; and he said he thought the Duchess of Richmond (who had
ordered the make of the dresses, and had been much condemned by some
of the young ladies for it) quite right. She said to him, “One thing I
was determined about; that I would have no discussion with their Mammas
about it.” Spoke of Talleyrand and Soult having been much struck by
the ceremony of the Coronation; of the English being far too generous
_not_ to be kind to Soult. Lord Melbourne went home the night before,
and slept very deeply till he was woke at 6 in the morning. I said I
did not sleep well. Spoke of the Illuminations and Uncle Ernest’s wish
to see them.
[Illustration: _H.S.H. Feodora_
_Princess of Hohenlohe-Langenburg_
_from a portrait by Gutekunst 1830_]
After dinner, before we sat down, we—that is, Charles, Lord Melbourne
and I—spoke of the numbers of Peers at the Coronation, which Lord
Melbourne said was unprecedented. I observed that there were very few
Viscounts; he said, “There are very few Viscounts”[535]; that they
were an odd sort of title, and not really English; that they came
from Vice-Comités; that Dukes and Barons were the only _real_ English
titles; that Marquises were likewise not English; and that they made
people Marquises when they did not wish to make them Dukes. Spoke of
Lord Audley who came as the 1st Baron, and who Lord Melbourne said was
of a very old family; his ancestor was a Sir Something Audley[536]
in the time of the Black Prince, who with Chandos gained the Battle
of Poitiers. I then sat on the sofa for a little while with Lady
Barham and then with Charles; Lord Melbourne sitting near me the whole
evening. Mamma and Feodore remained to see the Illuminations, and only
came in later, and Mamma went away before I did. Uncle Ernest drove
out to see the Illuminations. I said to Lord Melbourne when I
first sat down, I felt a little tired on my feet; “You must be very
tired,” he said. Spoke of the weight of the robes, &c.; the Coronets;
and he turned round to me, and said _so_ kindly, “And you did it
beautifully,—every part of it, with so much taste; it’s a thing that
you can’t give a person advice upon; it must be left to a person.” To
hear this, from this kind impartial friend, gave me great and real
pleasure. Mamma and Feodore came back just after he said this. Spoke
of these Bishops’ Copes, about which he was very funny; of the Pages,
who were such a nice set of boys and who were so handy, Lord Melbourne
said, that they kept them near them the whole time. Little Lord
Stafford[537] and Slane (Lord Mountcharles)[538] were Pages to their
fathers and looked lovely; Lord Paget[539] was Lord Melbourne’s Page
and remarkably handy, he said. Spoke again of the young ladies’ dress
about which he was very amusing; he waited for his carriage with Lady
Mary Talbot and Lady Wilhelmina; he thinks Lady Fanny does not make as
much show as other girls, which I would not allow. He set off for the
Abbey from his house at ½ p. 8, and was there long before anybody else;
he only got home at ½ p. 6, and had to go round by Kensington. He said
there was a large breakfast in the Jerusalem Chamber, where they met
_before_ all began; he said laughing that whenever the clergy or a Dean
and Chapter had anything to do with anything, there’s sure to be plenty
to eat. Spoke of my intending to go to bed; he said, “You may depend
upon it, you are more tired than you think you are.” I said I had slept
badly the night before; he said that was my mind, and that nothing kept
people more awake than any consciousness of a great event going to take
place and being agitated. He was not sure if he was not going to the
Duke of Wellington’s.
Stayed in the drawing-room till 20 m. p. 11, but remained till 12
o’clock on Mamma’s balcony looking at the fireworks in Green Park,
which were quite beautiful.
_Friday, 29th June._—I told Lord M. that I had been quarrelling with
Feodore about Louis Philippe, whom she called a Usurper, and that I
told her he was not, and that we disagreed amazingly about it; he
smiled. That she called our William III. and Mary Usurpers; Lord
Melbourne said it was that strong feeling of the divine right of Kings
which some people have; that many people would not be convinced that
Louis Philippe had _not_ organised that Revolution; but that it did
not do, he said, to wish well to the Family and not to Louis Philippe
as Feodore did; for that the happiness of the _one_ depended on the
_other_....
_Sunday, 8th July._—Got up at 20 m. to 10 and breakfasted at 11.
Signed. Heard from Lord Melbourne that, “He finds himself much better
this morning and will wait upon Your Majesty about three or a little
after.” At ½ p. 3 came my excellent Lord Melbourne and stayed with me
till a ¼ p. 4. He looks very thin and pulled as I think, but was in
excellent spirits and as kind as ever. He said he felt much better
today, but that his knee was still stiff and had been very painful
yesterday. It’s the same leg (the left) which was first bad, but the
_foot_ was nearly well; he wore large loose shoes and no straps to
his trousers. I showed Lord Melbourne a letter from Lord Glenelg I
had got about Lord Durham and a letter from Lady Durham. And Lord
Melbourne showed me one from Lord Palmerston about Van de Weyer’s being
asked, and about the Ladies of the Ambassadors having some seat at the
Balls....
_Monday, 9th July._—At a ¼ p. 11 I went with Mamma and the Duchess
of Sutherland, Feodore, Lady Barham, Lord Conyngham, Lord Albemarle,
Miss Pitt, Lady Flora, Späth, Lord Fingall, Miss Spring Rice, and Miss
Davys, Lady Harriet Clive and Mr. Murray to a Review in Hyde Park,
of which I subjoin an account. I could have cried almost not to have
_ridden_ and been in _my right_ place as I ought; but Lord Melbourne
and Lord Hill thought it more prudent on account of the great crowd
that I should not _this_ time do so,[540] which however now they all
see I might have done, and Lord Anglesey (who had the command of
the day, looked so handsome, and did it beautifully and gracefully)
regretted much I did not ride. I drove down the lines. All the Foreign
Princes and Ambassadors were there, and the various uniforms looked
very pretty. The troops never looked handsomer or did better; and I
heard their praises from all the Foreigners and particularly from
Soult. There was an immense crowd and all so friendly and kind to me....
_Wednesday, 11th July._—Spoke of Soult, and that Uncle Ernest said
that the Duc de Nemours told him that Soult was in excellent humour
here, in better humour than he had ever seen him. Lord Melbourne
seemed pleased. He said he was not at all surprised at the manner in
which the English received Soult; as they were always curious to see
distinguished foreigners. During the War, at the Peace of Amiens when
Marshal Orison[541] came over, they took the horses out of his carriage
and dragged him through the streets; “and that was in the midst of
war,” he continued. “Many people were rather annoyed at that; but
that was from mere curiosity.” I spoke of Feodore, and asked him if
he saw any likeness between us; he said, “I see the likeness, though
not perhaps very strong.” I spoke of her children and of Charles (her
eldest) being her favourite, as he was so much the fondest of her. Lord
Melbourne said smiling that one must not judge according to that, and
to the _manner_ in which children _showed_ their love; “Children are
great dissemblers; remember how Lear was deceived by that. They learn
to be the greatest hypocrites,” he said.
_Thursday, 12th July._—Lord Melbourne said that they were going to
have a Cabinet upon what O’Connell and Sir Robert Peel declared in the
House of Commons, the day before yesterday, upon the Irish Tithes. They
proposed that the sum left from the sum which was voted in 1833 for the
distressed Clergy, should be employed to pay the arrears of Tithes
due. I asked Lord Melbourne if he thought this a good plan; he said it
would have the effect of quieting the people, but that it was “rather a
lavish way of bestowing the Public Money.” In general, Lord Melbourne
said, when any sum of the kind is voted for a certain class of people,
many miss it who ought to get it, and many get it who ought not to get
anything.
_Friday, 13th July._—Lord Melbourne said Ellice had told him that they
cheered Soult amazingly when he went to Eton (that day), and Ellice
told him he must ask for a Holiday, which he did, upon which the Boys
cheered him much more; he shook hands with some of the Boys, and then
they all wished to shake hands with him, so he shook hands with the
whole school....
_Tuesday, 17th July._—He (Ld. M.) said that the Sutherlands had a large
family; and asked if the last was a boy or girl, at which I laughed
very much, as I said he _ought_ to know; he said boys were much more
expensive than girls; there was only the girl’s dress that could be
expensive and perhaps Masters; but nothing to what boys’ going to
school cost. I said that younger sons were always so poor, and that
girls married; he said certainly that was so, and even if girls did not
marry they wanted less money. I said Feodore at one time liked having
boys much better than girls, but she did not now, as she thought that
boys got into more difficulties and scrapes than girls. “Men certainly
get into more scrapes than girls,” said Lord Melbourne; “but there is
risk in both.” We spoke of other things; and he said Lord Ebrington
had come to him and spoken to him about its being reported that I had
so many French things, and that the lace of the Servants’ coats came
from France; which I said I knew nothing about, and I assured him I had
quantities of English things, but must sometimes have French things.
He said he knew quite well it was so, and that it was impossible not
to have French things, if one wished to be well dressed. That it was
not so much the material, but the make which we English could not do;
he said they never could make a cap or a bonnet; and that the English
women dressed so ill....
_Monday, 24th July._—We spoke of Sir Edmund Lyons,[542] who writes such
long despatches; and who Lord Melbourne has never seen before; he was
a Naval Officer and never employed before in the Diplomatic Service.
He was the Captain who took out Otho. I then went over to the Closet,
where the Prince Royal of Bavaria was introduced by Lord Palmerston and
Baron Cetto. Having neither attendants nor uniform, he came in morning
attire. He is not quite good-looking, but nearly so,—slim, not very
tall, but very gentlemanlike and agreeable and lively. I made him sit
down, and he was completely _à son aise_ and consequently put _me_ at
ease. I showed Lord Melbourne Hayter’s sketch for his great picture
of the Coronation; which Lord Melbourne liked very much, and which
was very generally admired; Lord Melbourne looked at it for some time
observing upon each part; he said that Hayter would never get it as
good in the large picture as he had got it here. I then said to Lord
Melbourne that I thought the Coronation made him ill, and all the worry
of it; he said he thought he would have been ill without it; “It wasn’t
the _Coronation_,” he said, “it was all these Peerages; but I think
that’s subsiding a little now.” I asked if Lord Derby expected being
made a Duke; Lord Melbourne replied, “No, I don’t think he did; I told
him at once that could not be, and that generally satisfies people.”
Lord Derby has a very good claim for it, Lord Melbourne said, for the
following reasons:—George III. declared he never would make any Dukes,
and wished to reserve that Title _only_ for the Royal Family; and he
only made 2, Lord Melbourne thinks—the Duke of Northumberland and the
Duke of Montagu[543]; Mr. Fox told the late Lord Derby that if he could
ever make the King waive his objections, _he_ should be made a Duke;
and _this_, Lord Melbourne said, certainly was a strong pledge for a
Whig Government; but Lord Grey passed him over (Ld. M. doesn’t know
why) and made the Duke of Sutherland and the Duke of Cleveland; and
Lord Derby said in his letter to Lord Melbourne, “he did not see why
the names of Vane (D. of Cleveland), Grenville (Duke of Buckingham),
and Grosvenor (Ld. Westminster), should be preferred before him.”[544]
He did not mention _Gower_, Lord Melbourne thinks from civility,
but that he _feels_ the same respecting him. I asked _what Duke_ he
wished to be; Lord Melbourne said he supposed Duke of Derby, which
was formerly a Royal title, having belonged to the Dukes of Lancaster;
he takes his title from Derby, a Hundred of Lancashire—_not_ from the
C^o. of Derby. He thinks, Lord Melbourne continued, that he has a right
to be Duke of Hamilton, through his mother, Lady Elizabeth Hamilton,
who was daughter to James, 6th Duke of Hamilton, and a very handsome
person; I asked who she married afterwards; Lord Melbourne replied,
“It was a very awkward business; she _married_ nobody; she had a great
attachment for the Duke of Dorset” (father to the late), “Lord Derby
parted from her, but would not divorce her, in order that she might
not marry the Duke of Dorset.” “The Duke of Dorset,” Lord Melbourne
continued, “was a very handsome and agreeable man; with a great deal
of gallantry....” I asked Lord Melbourne what sort of person Charles
Sheridan was; he said an agreeable lively young man; but rather wild.
We then spoke for a long time about all the Sheridans. C. Sheridan was
in the Admiralty and rose to get £300 a year; but they fancied, he
said, that he was in bad health, and made him give it up. There are
three sons, Brinsley, Frank (who is with Lord Normanby), and Charles;
“They are, like all the Sheridans, clever but careless, and have no
application,” he said. They plagued Lord Melbourne constantly to give
Charles a place; and Lord Melbourne offered him a Clerkship in the
Audit Office; but he would not have that, and said it was less than
he had had. George Anson[545] told Lord Melbourne it would be quite
nonsense to give it to him, as he would never come, and there would be
a complaint of him the first month. Lord Melbourne said that a person
who leaves the situation he has, must not expect to be put in again in
the same place he had. This is a £100 a year, “which is better than
nothing.” I observed that a person who does not wish to submit to that
cannot be very anxious to do much, in which Lord Melbourne agreed.
This Charles Sheridan lives a good deal with the Chesterfields, and
positively has nothing.[546] Lord Melbourne said, “I know they’ll get
ruined, and we shall have to provide for them.” “They all have £60 a
year.” There is one Charles Sheridan, an excessively ugly man, who
is Uncle to all these people; he is Brinsley Sheridan’s son by his
2nd wife; his 1st wife was a professional singer, a Miss Linley, whom
Lord Melbourne remembers when he was a boy; she died in 1794; she was
excessively handsome[547]; “The women” (Lady Seymour) “are very like
her; some of them,” he said. Spoke of young Brinsley Sheridan running
away with his wife; of Lady Seymour, who, Lord Melbourne said, “is the
most _posée_ of them all.” “She says those odd things,” Lord Melbourne
continued, “as if they were quite natural.” They (the Seymours) are
always teazing Lord Melbourne about _Titles_, and are so vexed at their
boy’s having no title; and they never will call him anything else but
the _Baby_[548]; I said that was foolish; “Very foolish; and I’ve told
them so,” replied Lord Melbourne, “but I can’t convince them.” The
Sheridan[549] who wrote the Dictionary was Great-Grandfather to all
these; his Wife was a very clever woman, Lord Melbourne said, and wrote
some very good books; “they have been a very distinguished family for a
long time,” he added.
_Tuesday, 25th July._—At a ¼ to 4 I _rode_ out with Lady Portman, Lord
Uxbridge, Lord Lilford, Lord Portman, Col. Buckley, Col. Cavendish,
and Miss Quentin, &c., and came home at 6. I rode _dear Tartar_ who
went most beautifully; it was a delightful ride; we rode to Acton, and
round by East Acton home. We never rode _harder_. We cantered almost
the whole way going out, but coming home we _galloped_ at least for _3
miles_ without _once_ pulling up. We came home through the Park and in
at the front entrance of the Palace. It was a charming ride. At 7 we
dined. Besides we 13 (Lady Charlemont, Lord Headfort, Lady Caroline
Barrington, and Wm. Cowper replacing Lord Byron, Lady Tavistock, Mrs.
Campbell, and Sir H. Seton), Lord Conyngham dined here. I sat between
Lord Conyngham and Lord Headfort. At a ¼ p. 8 I went to the Opera with
Mamma, dear Feo, Lady Charlemont, Lady Caroline, Miss Cavendish, Lord
Conyngham, Lord Headfort, Mr. Cowper, Col. Buckley, Col. Cavendish, and
Lady Flora. It was _I Puritani_, and Lablache and Grisi were singing
their Duo when we came in. Unfortunately poor Grisi was taken ill,
quite at the end of the 1st act, and was unable consequently to sing
her fine Scene in the 2nd act. Fanny Elsler danced the Chachucha (at
my desire) between the 2nd and 3rd acts.
_Wednesday, 26th July._—Lord Melbourne said, “Lord Duncannon tells
me he thinks that marriage of Lord Shelburne’s[550] is quite off.”
Lord Melbourne said that somebody said to him (Ld. Shelburne) how
handsome Miss Elphinstone was; upon which he replied, “I don’t think
so; but beauty is not the thing to look to in a Wife.” Now this may
have been repeated to her, Lord Melbourne says, and of course could
not please her; and the young lady may have said, Lord Melbourne
continued, “Why, you don’t seem to show that fondness for me you ought
to have, and therefore I think we’d better break it off altogether.”
Lady Kerry,[551] he said, had told Lord Duncannon that she believed
it was all off; I observed, _Why_ then had Lord Lansdowne announced
it to me, if it was not quite settled?—Lord Melbourne said, “The same
thing happened to Lord Duncannon that happened to you”; Lord Lansdowne
announced it to him—said it gave him great pleasure—that it was very
nearly settled but they did not wish to speak of it for the present;
“and two hours afterwards he got a letter from Lansdowne, saying it
was not at all settled,” and that he should not mention it.[552] Lord
Melbourne then asked if I had got the letter he sent me, from the
Duchess of Sutherland to him, saying her sister Lady Burlington[553]
gladly accepted the situation of Lady of the Bedchamber; and Lord
Melbourne said, “That may now be considered as settled”; and that Lady
Lansdowne had best be spoken to about it all; which I begged him to
be kind enough to do, which he said he would. I told Lord Melbourne
that Conyngham had told me that he heard from Frederic Byng, that Lord
Essex[554] was so _excessively_ pleased at my having called up Lady
Essex (Miss Stephens, the Singer that was, and married about 2 or 3
months ago to Lord Essex) at the Ball, and having spoken to her; this
touched Lord Melbourne; we both agreed she was a very nice person.[555]
Wrote my journal. At a ¼ to 8 I went into the Throne room with my
Ladies and Gentlemen, Feo and Mamma, where I found the Duchess of
Gloucester, the Duke of Sussex, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, and
Augusta and George. After waiting a little while we went into the green
drawing-room, which looked very handsome lit up, and was full of people
_all_ in uniform. I subjoin an account of all the arrangements and
all the people. After remaining for about five minutes in that room,
talking to several people, amongst others to good Lord Melbourne, we
went in to dinner, which was served in the Gallery, and looked, I must
say, most brilliant and beautiful. We sat down _103_, and _might_ have
been more. The display of plate at one end of the room was really very
handsome. I sat between Uncle Sussex and Prince Esterhazy. The music
was in a small Orchestra in the Saloon, and sounded extremely well.
Uncle Sussex seemed in very good spirits, and Esterhazy in high force,
and full of fun, and talking so loud. I drank a glass of _stein-wein_
with Lord Melbourne who sat a good way down on my left between the Duke
of Devonshire and Lord Holland. After dinner we went into the Yellow
drawing-room. Princesse Schwartzenberg looked very pretty but tired;
and Mme. Zavadowsky beautiful, and so sweet and placid. About 20 m.
after we ladies came in, the gentlemen joined us. I spoke to almost
everybody; Lord Grey looked well[556]; the Duke of Wellington ill but
cheerful and in good spirits. I spoke for some time also with Lord
Melbourne, who thought the Gallery looked very handsome, and that the
whole “did very well”; “I don’t see how it could do better,” he said.
He admired the large diadem I had on. At about 11 came some people who
(as the Gallery was full of dinner &c.) were obliged to come through
the Closet, and of whom I annex a List. Lady Clanricarde I did not
think looked very well; Lady Ashley, Lady Fanny, Lady Wilhelmina, and
Lady Mary Grimston looked extremely pretty. Strauss played delightfully
the whole evening in the Saloon. After staying a little while in the
Saloon, we went and sat down in the further drawing-room, next to the
dining-room. I sat on a sofa between Princesse Schwartzenberg and
Mme. Stroganoff[557]; Lord Melbourne sitting next Mme. Stroganoff,
and in a little while Esterhazy near him, and Furstenberg (who talked
amazingly to Lord Melbourne, and made us laugh a good deal) behind
him. The Duchess of Sutherland and the Duchess of Northumberland sat
near Princess Schwartzenberg, and a good many of the other Ambassadors
and Ambassadresses were seated near them. The Duchess of Cambridge and
Mamma were opposite to us; and all the others in different parts of the
room. Several gentlemen, foreigners, came up behind the sofa to speak
to me. We talked and laughed a good deal together. I stayed up till a ¼
to 1. It was a successful evening....
_Wednesday, 1st August._—I asked Lord Melbourne if he saw any likeness
in me to the Duke of Gloucester; he said none whatever; for that when
formerly they wished to make me angry, they always said I was like him.
I asked if Lord Melbourne remembered the Duke’s father; he said he did;
that he was a very good man, but also very dull and tiresome. His two
brothers were Edward, Duke of York, who died long before Lord Melbourne
was born, and Henry, the Duke of Cumberland. “The Duke of Gloucester
and the Duke of Cumberland always remained Whigs,” Lord Melbourne said,
“and never could understand the King’s (George III.) change; they
said the Whigs brought their Family to this country; they went with
the King but could not understand it.” Lord Melbourne said, “Whenever
George IV. took offence at the church, he used to say, ‘By God, my
Uncle the Duke of Cumberland was right when he told me, The people you
must be apprehensive of, are those black-legged gentlemen.’” I said to
Lord Melbourne that Princess Sophia Matilda told me that George III.
had four illnesses. Lord Melbourne said they were not all declared
illnesses. The 1st, he said, was in 1788; the 2nd in 1800, then in
1804, which was not exactly allowed to be so; and the last in ’10, when
he never got well again; it is said, Lord Melbourne told me, that he
had been ill in the early part of his reign; as early as 63 or 4, but
no one knows exactly; he had a very bad fever then. I observed that
the Cheltenham Waters, it was said, brought it on the first time. Lord
Melbourne said, so it was said, but that he did very odd things when
he first went down there.... He used to give, Lord Melbourne said, all
the orders before his being ill with perfect composure. Whenever he was
going to be ill, the King heard—Lord Melbourne continued—perpetually
ringing in his ears, one of Handel’s oratorios; and was constantly
thinking of Octavius[558] who died, “of whom he (the King) said,
‘Heaven will be no Heaven to me if my Octavius isn’t there.’” But his
“master delusion,” as Lord Melbourne expressed it, was thinking that
he was married to Lady Pembroke (Lady Elizabeth Spencer that was, and
Mother to the late Lord Pembroke, and who only died 7 or 8 years ago),
with whom he had been very much in love in his young days, and very
near marrying. I told Lord Melbourne I remembered going to see her when
she was ninety, and she was very handsome even then. Lord Melbourne
then told me how very near George III. was marrying Lady Sarah
Lennox,[559] sister to the late Duke of Richmond, who was excessively
handsome. Lord Melbourne said he was only prevented from marrying
her “by her levity.” This was quite early in his reign. He told Lady
Susan Strangways, Lord Ilchester’s Aunt, “Don’t you think I ought
to marry a Subject? I think I ought; and that must be your friend”
(meaning Lady Sarah Lennox); “and you may tell her so from me.” “Then,”
Lord Melbourne continued, “she” (Lady Sarah) “committed every sort of
folly; she entered into a flirtation with the Marquis of Lothian, rode
out with him after a masquerade quite early in the morning; this was
represented to the King, and _détournée_’d His Majesty a little,” said
Lord Melbourne laughing. Nothing could equal the beauty of the Women
at that time, said Lord Melbourne, from all the accounts he heard, the
Duchess of Argyll and Lady Coventry, sisters,[560] &c....
_Sunday, 5th August._—Spoke of Lord Alfred’s[561] having gone to see
his father’s leg, which is buried at Waterloo, and of _100 old women_
having come to see him get into his carriage when they heard whose
son he was. We spoke of all this; of Sir H. Vivian’s suffering much
now, Lord Melbourne said, in consequence of a severe blow he got at
Waterloo “by a spent grape shot.” Lord Melbourne went over to Brussels
almost immediately _after_ the battle of Waterloo, to see Sir Frederic
Ponsonby[562] who was dreadfully wounded, stabbed through and through;
Lord Melbourne said, though he lived for 20 years afterwards, he
certainly died in consequence of these wounds. I asked Lord Melbourne
if he didn’t think Johnson’s Poetry very hard; he said he did, and that
Garrick said, “Hang it, it’s as hard as Greek.” His Prose he admires,
though he said pedantry was to be observed throughout it; and Lord
Melbourne thinks what he _said_ superior to what he _wrote_. In spite
of all that pedantry, Lord Melbourne said, “a deep feeling and a great
knowledge of human nature” pervaded all he said and wrote....
_Tuesday, 7th August._—I asked him if he had seen Pozzo, which he told
me in the evening he was going to do; he said he had, and it was about
the Pasha of Egypt[563]; and he said Russia would go quite with England
in the whole affair and quite approved of England’s intention of
sending a Fleet there; at the same time, Lord Melbourne said, he stated
distinctly, that if we didn’t send a Fleet, they would be obliged to
march an Army into Turkey for its protection; but, Lord Melbourne said
he hoped, from what he saw by the last despatches, that the Pasha had
given up the idea of declaring his Independence. “I think he only tried
it,” Lord Melbourne said, “to see what effect it would make!” Lord
Melbourne said he had also seen Lord Palmerston, and had spoken to him
about these Belgian Affairs, which they still hope, in spite of many
difficulties, to settle; and they have now satisfied Sebastiani,[564]
who, Lord Melbourne said, was of a jealous disposition and thought they
were going on without him with Bülow[565]; Lord Palmerston had only
got from Van de Weyer a statement of this Debt,[566] Lord Melbourne
said; but that it would be impossible to alter; I expressed a fear of
the Belgians resisting. Lord Melbourne said (which is quite true) that
it would be very awkward if Uncle Leopold came over just in the midst
of these Conferences, which would have the effect, as if he came for
that purpose, and which Lord Melbourne said would prevent their acting
as much for his interests as they otherwise might do. I said I quite
felt it; but that Lord Melbourne had best send for Stockmar and get him
to settle it with the King....
_Sunday, 12th August._—Saw Stockmar for a little while, and then took
leave of this good and kind friend, which I was really sorry to do. He
told me he had been to see Lord Melbourne, and he said I should have
(what _I_ have _always_ had) the greatest confidence in Lord Melbourne,
and ask his advice, not only in Political Matters, but in domestic
affairs,—and ask his advice just like a _Father_, which are quite my
feelings. Lord Melbourne was very funny about the Statue of the Duke of
Wellington which is put up (in wood) only as a Trial, on the Archway
on Constitution Hill,[567] and which we think looks dreadful and much
too large; but Lord Melbourne said he thought a statue would look well
there, and that it should be as large. We then observed what a pity
Wyatt should do the statue, as we thought he did them so ill; and we
mentioned George III.’s; but Lord Melbourne does not dislike that, and
says it’s exactly like George III., and like his way of bowing.[568] He
continued, “I never will have anything to do with Artists; I wished to
keep out of it all; for they’re a waspish set of people....”
_Tuesday, 14th August._—I went and fetched the Speech, and he read it
to me, in his beautiful, clear manner, and with that fine voice of his,
and full of fine expression. I always feel that _I_ can read it better
when I have heard him read it. The Speech is, as Lord Melbourne said,
“not long and safe.”
_Wednesday, 15th August._—Lady Normanby then practised putting on my
crown, for to-morrow. After this I read my Speech twice over, in my
crown. Played and sang. Wrote. Wrote my journal. I forgot to say that
I got in the morning, 2 notes from Lord Melbourne in which it seemed
almost certain that the Prorogation could only take place on Friday;
but at a little before 2 I got another note from him, in which he
said that he heard from Lord John, it could take place next day, and
therefore, that there would be a Council. I asked Lord Melbourne if it
ever had been usual for the Sovereign to _read_ the Speech _after_ the
Prime Minister had done so at the Council, as Lord Lansdowne had twice
asked that question. Lord Melbourne said, never; but that the late King
had done it once, when he was in a great state of irritation, and had
said, “I will read it myself, paragraph by paragraph.” This was the
last time the late King ever prorogued Parliament in person. I asked if
Brougham was in the House; he said no, he was gone. I told him I heard
Brougham had asked Lady Cowper down to Brougham Hall; but that she
wouldn’t go; I asked if she knew him (Brougham) well; Lord Melbourne
said very well, and “I’ve known him all my life; he can’t bear me now;
he won’t speak to me; I’ve tried to speak to him on ordinary subjects
in the House of Lords, but he won’t answer, and looks very stern”; Lord
Melbourne said, laughing, “Why, we’ve had several severe set-to’s,
and I’ve hit him very hard.” I asked if he (B.) didn’t still sit on
the same bench with Lord Melbourne. “Quite on the gangway; only one
between,” replied Lord Melbourne. Lord Melbourne and I both agreed that
it was _since_ the King’s death that Brougham was so enraged with Lord
Melbourne; for, till then, he would have it that it was the _King’s_
dislike to him (and the King made no objection whatever to him, Lord
Melbourne told me) and _not Lord Melbourne_; “he wouldn’t believe me,”
Lord M. said; and _now_ he’s undeceived. Brougham always, he said,
used to make a great many speeches. I observed that I thought if his
daughter was to die, he would go mad; but Lord Melbourne doesn’t think
so; and said, “A man who is always very odd never goes really mad.”
_Thursday, 16th August._—“You were rather nervous,”[569] said Lord
Melbourne; to which I replied, dreadfully so; “More so than any
time,” he continued. I asked if it was observed; he said, “I don’t
think anyone else would have observed it, but I could see you were.”
Spoke of my fear of reading it too low, or too loud, or too quick; “I
thought you read it very well,” he said kindly. I spoke of my great
nervousness, which I said I feared I never would get over. “I won’t
flatter Your Majesty that you ever will; for I think people scarcely
ever get over it; it belongs to a peculiar temperament, sensitive
and susceptible; that shyness generally accompanies high and right
feelings,” said Lord Melbourne most kindly; he was so kind and paternal
to me. He spoke of my riding, which he thought a very good thing. “It
gives a feeling of ease the day one has done with Parliament,” said
Lord Melbourne. He spoke of the people in the Park when I went to the
House; and I said how very civil the people were—_always_—to me; which
touched him; he said it was a very good thing; it didn’t do to rely too
much on those things, but that it was well it was there. I observed to
Lord Melbourne how ill and out of spirits the Duke of Sussex was; “I
have ended the Session in great charity,” said Lord Melbourne, “with
the Duke of Wellington, but I don’t end it in charity with those who
didn’t vote with the Duke when he voted with us”; we spoke of all
that; “The Duke is a very great and able man,” said Lord Melbourne,
“but he is more often wrong than right.” Lord Holland wouldn’t allow
this; “Well, let’s throw the balance the other way,” continued Lord
Melbourne, “but when he is wrong he is _very_ wrong.”
_Friday, 17th August._—I then told Lord Melbourne that I had so much
to do, I didn’t think I possibly could go to Windsor on Monday; he
said if I put off going once for that reason, I should have to put it
off again, which I wouldn’t allow; I said there were so many things
to go, and to pack,—and so many useless things; “I wouldn’t take those
useless things,” said Lord Melbourne laughing. I then added that he
couldn’t have an idea of the number of things women had to pack and
take; he said many men had quite as much,—which I said couldn’t be,
and he continued that Lord Anglesey had _36_ trunks; and that many men
had 30 or 40 different waistcoats, and neck-cloths, to choose from;
which made me laugh; I said a man _couldn’t_ really want more than
3 or 4 coats for some months. He said in fact 6 were enough for a
year,—but that people had often fancies for more. I said our dresses
required such smooth packing; “Coats ought to be packed smooth,”
replied Lord Melbourne. I asked Lord Melbourne if Pozzo had spoken at
all about the Belgian affairs. He said he told him he wouldn’t meddle
with them at all. Spoke of Pozzo’s disliking Lord Palmerston, who
didn’t, he fancied, treat him with enough _égard_; and Lord Melbourne
said Palmerston keeps them waiting sometimes for a long while,—which,
though they say they don’t mind it, they do mind; and we both agreed
that he was a little apt to sneer sometimes, and to make it appear
absurd what people said. I said, independent of Uncle’s coming—hurting
his interests in the Conferences—his own country was in too disturbed
a state to do so[570]; Lord Melbourne said whatever would be done
would be attributed to Uncle’s presence; that justice must be done to
Belgium; but that there was such a desire in the Cabinet to settle the
affair, that they wouldn’t be disposed to listen to any unreasonable
demands of Belgium; I said one felt less anxious reading the Speech
at the close than at the beginning of the Session. Lord Melbourne said
he didn’t know; “The responsibility is so much greater during the
Vacations; when Parliament is sitting one comes at once to Parliament;
one has that to go to, and hears the worst at once....”
_Sunday, 19th August._—Spoke of the Phœnix Park being considered
unwholesome; of its being drained by what they call the
Sub-soil-plough. He repeated the anecdote about Lord Talbot; the
present Lord Talbot—(I believe I have already noted down the anecdote
as he told it me twice before, but am not quite sure)—asked someone why
they had never thought of draining the Phœnix Park, and they replied,
“Why, your Ancestors were so much employed in draining the _Country_,
that they had no time to think of draining the Park.” He said
Talleyrand told an anecdote of a lady in the time of the Revolution
who was speaking of what she would be, and she said, “Paysanne, oui;
mais Bourgeoise, jamais.” I said to Lord Melbourne I was afraid he
disliked the Germans, as he was always laughing at them, which he
wouldn’t allow at all and laughed much. He said, “I’ve a great opinion
of their talents, but not of their beauty.” He asked if I had seen
Mr. MacNeill’s[571] despatches giving an account of his going into
_Herat_ at night; I replied, I had not; Lord Melbourne said it was a
very curious and even fearful account, his going through these Barbaric
Armies at night, 9 o’clock, all the Persians without, prepared for the
Attack, and all those within, for Defence; and he gave an interesting
account of one of the principal persons in Herat; Mr. MacNeill said
he found them quite disposed to negotiate, but when he returned to the
Shah’s camp, he found the Russian Ambassador there, and the Shah would
listen to nothing; so Mr. MacNeill came away. Spoke of not liking the
Cathedral Service and all that singing, and Lord Melbourne said, “It
is inconsistent with a calm and right devotion; it’s papistical, and
theatrical.”[572]
_Monday, 20th August._—Spoke of Pozzo’s being very civil to Lord
Melbourne; Lord Melbourne said, “He’s very fond of me,” upon which I
said, “I don’t wonder at that,” which made Lord Melbourne smile. He
continued, that Lord Palmerston gave Pozzo rather unnecessary offence
by not treating him with respect and _égard_, which those sensitive
Corsicans and Italians expect. I said to Lord Melbourne, I felt often
ashamed at being so ignorant about many things, and at being obliged
to ask him about so many things. He replied MOST KINDLY, “Oh! no,
you know everything very well; it’s impossible for anybody to know
everything that it is right for them to know.” We spoke of the Archduke
Charles, who, as Mr. Macgregor told Lord Melbourne, “and as we know,”
he said, was a most able man, but wouldn’t take the slightest part in
public affairs. We spoke of how many brothers there are still alive:
Archduke Charles, Archduke Palatine, Archduke John, Archduke Rainer,
and Archduke Louis. Spoke of Hayter’s Picture, and of his having
made the Duchess of Sutherland so like already. Spoke of the Duchess
of Sutherland’s features being large, which he agreed in; but that
he liked large features, for that people with small features and
“_Squeeny_ noses” never did anything. Spoke of the business of the
Army, which Lord Melbourne said he was afraid Lord Howick would bring
on, and that there would be a good deal of difficulty about it. Lord
Howick, he says, has pledged himself about it, and is displeased with
the Horse-Guards. He (Lord Howick) is very indiscreet in the House of
Commons, Lord Melbourne said. He has written Lord Melbourne a letter
about this Army business, which Lord Melbourne told him he would
answer; but he begged Lord Melbourne not to write to him, as long as he
was at Spa,—as the letter would be read. I said I hoped Lord Melbourne
had never found me indiscreet, or that I had ever repeated things which
I ought not to have done. He said, “Not at all; no one is so discreet,”
and that it was impossible sometimes to help letting out things. I
then also begged him always to tell me, when he heard anything, might
it be agreeable or disagreeable, and that he should never be afraid of
telling me so; which he promised to do.[573]
_Tuesday, 21st August._—Lord Melbourne said he had seen Lord
Palmerston, who told him he hoped to be able soon to bring this Belgian
business[574] to a sort of conclusion; that he had had several
conversations with Bülow, and Senfft,[575] “who seems a very fair
man”; and that they think they may settle this Debt, and satisfy the
Belgians by this slight change. “Then I talked to him,” continued Lord
Melbourne, “about the King’s coming, and that it would be more for the
disadvantage of his Interests.” I then spoke of my having received such
an odd present of a Kitten in the morning, which made him laugh. (I
got a basket, which they said came from Sir Henry Wheatley, and which
I thought was full of flowers, and when my Maid opened it, we found
a pretty little _Kitten_ in it—which some poor people sent me as a
present.)
_Monday, 27th August._—Of Uncle Leopold; when he married Princess
Charlotte; Lord Melbourne hadn’t the slightest acquaintance with her,
and never had spoken to her. She never came to her father at that time.
Lord M. said he never went near the Princess of Wales, for he said
considering that he opposed the Regent so much in Parliament, he didn’t
wish to oppose him in his quarrels with his Wife; for, he said, he had
been so much with the Prince of Wales, and was so much attached to him,
that he thought that would have been wrong.
_Tuesday, 28th August._—Lord Melbourne then read me a letter from Lord
John about all this Belgian business; he says that he won’t support
Belgium in its new claims. Lord Melbourne said, “It’s very well of
John saying he won’t support,” and so forth, but that it would be
impossible for us not to take one side; our interests would compel
us to do so; they lay so much with the Low Countries; England, he
said, could never permit France to have possession of Antwerp, which
was such a great Maritime place. He then read me a letter from Lord
Minto relative to an alarm which prevails, and which was caused,
Lord Melbourne says, by a speech the Duke of Wellington made in the
House, about the weakness of our Naval force; which Lord Minto quite
disclaims. Lord Melbourne sent him a paper of Sir Robert Inglis’s[576]
about the Russian, French, and American Fleets; which Lord Minto says
is quite erroneous; Lord Minto states that in a very few weeks, he
could be quite ready for war; Lord M. says, what countries generally
ruin themselves with, is, keeping up their Naval and Military
Establishments during the time of peace; and he said, “Better be at
War then.”[577] He owned that the Russians sending their fleet to
the Black Sea “certainly is far from pleasant.” Then I spoke of Lord
Ponsonby’s great alarm about Russian Influence, which Lord Melbourne
said always was the case. Spoke of Queen Charlotte’s having been
supposed to have had a great many presents which she was fond of, from
Mrs. Hastings[578]; and Lord Melbourne said the King was thought rather
to go with Hastings, who was accused and tried for misdemeanours in
India. There was an ivory bed-stead Queen Charlotte got, which Lord
M. believed was at Frogmore now. Spoke of Queen Adelaide’s having got
all those Shawls which the King of Oude sent. This led us to speak
of the Crown Jewels; of there not being many, yet more than I ever
wished to wear, of my not liking those sort of things. Lord M. said
he didn’t like a profusion of them, but thought a few fine ones the
best. Spoke of the Jewels which Queen Charlotte left to her daughters.
Lord Melbourne said the Queen Consort can do with her _own_ things
what she pleases; can make her own Will, and “is a _femme seule_,” for
no other woman can—all is her husband’s. Lord Melbourne (in reply to
my question when he first knew George IV.) said, as soon as he could
remember any one; he was 4 when the King was 21, in ’83, when Lord
Melbourne’s father was first put about the Prince of Wales. “He used to
be at Whitehall, or Piccadilly[579] where we then lived, morning, noon
and night,” Lord Melbourne said; and he used to come down to Brocket;
he always was fond of children and took notice of them; I said he
took notice of me; I observed how much more submissive we were to him
than to the late King; Lord Melbourne said George IV. had more power.
Lord Melbourne said _none_ of the Royal Family could marry without
the Sovereign’s leave since the Marriage Act, passed early in George
III.’s reign, in consequence, Lord Melbourne believes, of the Duke
of Cumberland’s marrying a Mrs. Luttrell[580] which was very much
disliked; else the Duke of Sussex might have married Lady Augusta, and
the late King Mrs. Jordan, Lord Melbourne said. The member of the Royal
Family, Lord Melbourne continued, gives notice to the Privy Council of
his intention to marry, and if they don’t disapprove, it’s supposed
the King will consent. Lord Melbourne said it was a difficult subject
the marriage of the Royal Family; marrying a subject was inconvenient,
and there was inconvenience in foreigners; “It was very often done”
(marrying subjects); “Kings did it; and I don’t know there was any
harm in it,” said Lord Melbourne. Anne Hyde was the last who married
a Prince who became _King_, and that was considered a dreadful thing.
Lord M. said he had been looking at some of those letters [George
III.’s] to Lord North which seemed to him very ill written,[581] both
as to hand and style, and in bad English. Lord North was a great
favourite of George IV.’s, Lord Melbourne said; “Lord North was a very
easy, good-natured man,” and the King knew him “when he first came in
to life.” Lord Thurlow, whom Mr. Pitt beat and turned out in ’93,[582]
turned to George IV. and became also a great favourite of his. He was
clever but ill-tempered, Lord Melbourne said.
_Wednesday, 29th August._—Lord Melbourne said he had been looking at
those letters to Lord North, and found on closer examination that
they were written with much more practical knowledge and knowledge of
men than he had at first thought. The letters he has been reading
are relative to a Negotiation which the King entered into, with the
Opposition, in order to strengthen the Government; and Lord Melbourne
related several parts of it, which made him smile and which he said
were true enough. Lord Melbourne said he (George III.) couldn’t bear
Mr. Fox, for that he says in one of these letters that he (Lord North)
might offer him any situation which did not bring him in immediate
contact with the King, or into the Closet; and as he (Mr. Fox) never
had any principles, he wouldn’t have any difficulty in changing. These
letters prove, Lord Melbourne said, what strong personal dislikes the
King had. These letters to Lord North, Lord M. thinks, were returned
to George IV. by Mrs. Douglas on the death of her husband, who was
the son of Lady Glenbervie, Lord North’s daughter; Lord North had
three daughters, Lady Glenbervie, Lady Sheffield, and Lady Charlotte
Lindsay (whom I know); all very clever, Lord M. says. He had 3 sons,
George (who was a very pleasant, lively man and a great bon-vivant,
Lord M. says), Frederic, and Frank; who were all in succession Earls
of Guilford. The present Lord is son to Lord North’s brother[583] who
was a Bishop, Lord M. told me. Lord North died in ’93, and Lord M.
remembers seeing him (when Lord M. was a boy) led into the House of
Lords, quite blind, at Hastings’ trial; he was Lord Guilford for a very
short time.
Lord M. does not think that George III. was very fond of Mr. Pitt.
Spoke of the violent dislikes George III. and George IV. had; William
IV. had them also, but Lord M. said they were easily got over.
Spoke of George III.’s hand-writing; of mine, which Lord M. thinks
very legible and generally very good; of my inclination to imitate
hand-writings, and people,—which Lord M. said, showed quickness, and
was in the Family; of George IV.’s mimickry. I said I kept a journal,
which, as Lord Melbourne said, is very laborious, but a very good
thing; for that it was astonishing in transacting business, how much
one forgot, and how one forgot _why_ one did the things.
_Thursday, 30th August._— ... I gave Lord M. this Pamphlet of Sir H.
Taylor’s which Mamma lent me. We talked about many things, and in going
home I asked Lord M. how long Lord North had been Prime Minister to
George III.; “From ’70 till ’82,” he told me. “The Duke of Grafton”
(who preceded him, and was the present Duke of Grafton’s father) “went
away,” Lord M. continued, “without telling any body and without telling
the King; they were difficult times, and he went away; I know why he
went away, people are always doing those foolish things; and the King
didn’t know what to do; he sent for Lord Gower”[584] (I forget what
he was), who, I think Lord M. said, refused it; “and then he sent for
his Chancellor of the Exchequer” (Lord North) “and made him his Prime
Minister.” Lord M. spoke of Dr. Keate, and told me an anecdote of him
and George III.; and then he said that Dr. Keate couldn’t bear to be
reminded of his boyish days at Eton; somebody, who Lord M. knows,
reminded Keate when he was walking across the School-Yard with him,
of the window, pointing at it, out of which they had often jumped,
upon which Dr. Keate said, “Don’t mention it; it’s a very foolish
remark.”
_Friday, 31st August._—Lord M. then said, that the French were going
to send out a fleet to Mexico, with which State they have been in
a quarrel for some time,—and that they meant to send the Prince de
Joinville with it, to ask for reparation, and if not, to attack the
fort of Aloa which commands the river, and which it would not be
agreeable for us if the French were to possess; and Lord Palmerston
proposes we should send a swift sailing Vessel to Mexico to apprize
the Mexicans of what was to take place and to advise them to make
reparation. And also, Lord P. proposes sending a Vessel to Guiana,
where the French are making great encroachments, and to see what they
are about.
[Illustration: _H.R.H. The Duc de Nemours_
_from a portrait by Eugene Lami_]
Lady Cork[585] is 92, a very strange old woman; Lord M. knows her; she
was clever, a great favourite of George III. and Queen Charlotte. She
was a Miss Monckton, sister to Lord Galway, he said. Lord M. said in
returning Dr. Hook’s sermon (which I sent him to read) when he came in,
that it was eager, but nothing very particular, and able. Lady Holland
seems “very fond of Senfft,” Lord M. observed; “she would settle that
Embassy too, as she does every thing else,” he said laughing. Lord M.
said, in speaking of Taylor’s pamphlet,[586] “There is no force in it;
it isn’t pointed.” Taylor is very fond of writing, he says, and fancies
he writes well. Spoke of Lady C. Bury’s book.[587] Lord M. says these
things make less impression than people fancy; they “make a day’s
noise; but nobody minds them much.” Spoke of Lady Anne Hamilton,[588]
who attended Queen Caroline at her Trial; Lady Charlotte Lindsay
gave evidence. “Lord Egremont said,” continued Lord M., “‘As for
Guilford,[589] he twaddled like a waiting maid when he gave evidence;
but his Sister lied like a man,’” which made us both laugh very much.
Spoke of Kenney,[590] who is Author (Lord M. told me) of _Love, Law,
and Physic_, and _Raising the Wind_, and is at Holland House. Spoke of
my knowing Rogers and Moore; having seen Scott and Southey. Lord M.
rather admires Southey’s works, and thinks his _Life of Nelson_ very
pretty. Spoke of his _Life of Cowper_. Spoke of a new book lying on the
table, sent to me by Granville Penn,[591] which Lord M. looked at and
said he thought might be curious; it is the _Life of Sir William Penn_,
Admiral in Cromwell’s time, and who, with Venables, took Jamaica. Spoke
of Mrs. Hutchinson’s _Memoirs of Colonel Hutchinson_, which Lord M.
thinks very curious; spoke of her violence; spoke of Clarendon’s book
which Lord M. said “is a fine book.” I observed there were few books
on the Parliamentary side; he replied few at the time, but a good
many since. He mentioned one by Brodie, a Scotchman; Bishop Burnet’s
Memoirs of his own time, during Charles II.’s reign; and he said,
“There is a book which I think would amuse Your Majesty, and would be
of use to you, and which isn’t long, which is Guizot’s account of the
Revolution.” It’s only in 2 vols., and is a summary of whole thing, he
said.
Lord M. said Lady Holland was a great friend of Pozzo’s, and that his
first acquaintance with Pozzo was at Holland House. I asked if she
knew Sebastiani; he said she did, but didn’t like him much, except
from his connection with Napoleon “whom she adored.” She never knew
Napoleon, Lord Melbourne added, but saw him at Paris at the Peace of
Amiens. She used to send him things she knew he liked, said Lord M.;
when he was at St. Helena she sent him _gâteaux_ and chocolate, &c.
“She was half on his side,” Lord M. continued, “if not more.” Spoke of
Lady E. Wortley’s[592] admiration for Napoleon. Soult was no friend of
Napoleon, Lord M. said; none of them, he continued, were to be compared
to Napoleon himself; the two best after Napoleon, Lord M. said, were
Dessaix who was killed at Marengo, and Kleber who was murdered in Egypt.
I asked Lord M. what Lord Gower, whom he mentioned to me before, was;
that Lord Gower, he said, was the Duke of Sutherland’s grandfather; he
was “Lord Privy Seal” when the King sent for him.[593] “He did not
think himself equal to it” (being Prime Minister); “he was a man who
took great part in politics.” Lord M. also told me that he believes
the present Lord Bute to be the great-grandson of the Minister of
George III. “George III. found the Duke of Newcastle and Mr. Pitt, and
everything was going on very well, when he was advised to change; he
couldn’t bear Mr. Pitt; who was afterwards Lord Chatham; and he took
Lord Bute in his place; and then followed all that unpopularity.” I
asked if these letters of George III. showed great confidence in Lord
North; Lord M. said “they show a great liking for him, more than a
great confidence.” That the King never seemed to think him strong
enough; Lord North, all along, Lord M. continued, was pursuing a
Policy contrary to what he himself approved, but which he was urged
to by the King: and Lord North remonstrated very much with the King.
The difference, Lord M. observed before, between George IV. and his
father, was, that the former (which Knighton’s Memoirs show, Lord M.
said) always required somebody to lean upon, whereas the latter always
wished to act for himself, and only yielded, but said at the same time
he disliked doing it. He never would have yielded on the Catholic
Question, Lord M. continued, nor would the Duke of York; the late King
was for it; but George IV. did it very unwillingly. George III. was
deeply hurt at the loss of the American provinces, which I observed
was no wonder; I said I thought it was _his_ fault. Lord M. said most
likely it was; but that it was impossible any longer to keep up the
great Colonial Policy, namely that they should exclusively trade with
England and make nothing for themselves; even Lord Chatham, Lord M.
said, who all along advocated their cause, “said they shouldn’t drive
one hob-nail for themselves.” The Separation was easily done, they
had nothing to do but to declare it. Lord M. continued that the first
settlers were composed of people who left England in discontent,—of
dissenters &c., and consequently no loyal people could spring from
them. Spoke of the people whom William III. ennobled, which I’ve no
time to enumerate. He told a most absurd anecdote of a very fat little
porter at Lansdowne House. “He is a leading man in all the Parish
Debates,” said Lord M.; “and somebody told Albemarle, ‘He speaks very
well; to tell you the truth he speaks very like my lord.’”
END OF VOL. I
_Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._
FOOTNOTES
[1] In later years the volumes of the Queen’s Journals were of larger
size, but they were always simply bound in half calf or half morocco.
[2] They were ultimately paid by the Queen immediately after her
accession.
[3] Kensington Palace.
[4] The Journal was written in pencil and inked over afterwards.
[5] Edward, first Earl of Powis (1754–1839), was the eldest son of the
great Lord Clive; his eldest son, afterwards second Earl, married Lucy,
daughter of the third Duke of Montrose; his second son, Robert Clive,
M.P., married Harriet, younger daughter of the fifth Earl of Plymouth:
these are the ladies referred to in the text. The barony of Windsor,
which had fallen into abeyance, was afterwards terminated in favour of
Lady Harriet Clive.
[6] Lady Catherine Jenkinson, elder daughter of the third Earl of
Liverpool, was married later to Colonel Francis Vernon Harcourt, son of
the Archbishop of York and Equerry to the Duchess of Kent.
[7] Sir Richard Bulkeley, tenth Baronet, M.P. for Anglesey, afterwards
Lord Lieutenant of Carnarvonshire. He had just married Maria Frances,
daughter of Sir Thomas Stanley-Massy-Stanley.
[8] Lady Williams, wife of Sir John Williams of Bodelwyddan, first
Baronet.
[9] Daughter of Sir John Conroy, Comptroller to the Duchess of Kent.
[10] Louise Lehzen became Governess to Princess Victoria in 1824.
In 1827 George IV. created her a Hanoverian Baroness. When in 1830
the Duchess of Northumberland was made the Princess’ Governess, her
“faithful Lehzen” remained on as Lady in Waiting. She stayed at Court
till 1842, when she returned to Germany.
[11] Sir John Williams, afterwards Sir John Williams-Hay, second
Baronet, of Bodelwyddan.
[12] Robert, Earl Grosvenor (1767–1845), had in 1831 been created
Marquess of Westminster; he had married Eleanor, only daughter of
Thomas, first Earl of Wilton. Richard, Lord Grosvenor, their eldest
son, married Elizabeth Mary, daughter of the first Duke of Sutherland;
Thomas, the second son, inherited, under a special remainder, his
grandfather’s Earldom of Wilton, and married Mary Margaret, daughter of
Edward, twelfth Earl of Derby.
[13] Wife of Sir Philip Grey Egerton, and daughter of George John Legh,
of High Legh, Cheshire.
[14] Robert, third son of Lord Westminster, at this time M.P. for
Chester and afterwards for Middlesex, was created in 1857 Lord Ebury.
[15] Elinor, afterwards Duchess of Northumberland.
[16] Gilbert le Grosvenator, nephew of Hugh Lupus, Earl of Chester.
[17] Joan (_temp._ Henry VI.), only daughter and heiress of John Eton
of Eton (now Eaton), married Raufe le Grosvenor, Lord of Hulme.
[18] Sir Thomas Grosvenor, third Baronet, M.P. for Chester, married
Mary, only daughter and heiress of Alexander Davis, of Ebury,
Middlesex. She died in 1730.
[19] William Spencer, sixth Duke of Devonshire. His mother was
Georgiana, famous for her beauty and its influence over George IV.
and Lord Grey. The sixth Duke inherited from his mother his Whig
proclivities. He was a patron of arts and letters. Devonshire House
under his bachelor rule was a centre of hospitality. That the Duke
never married, notwithstanding his admiration of the fair sex, gave
rise to much speculation and gossip.
[20] William, Lord Cavendish, grandson of George Augustus Henry,
first Earl of Burlington, and great-grandson of the fourth Duke of
Devonshire. In 1858 he became the seventh Duke, and died in 1891.
He married in 1829 Blanche Georgiana, daughter of the sixth Earl of
Carlisle. He was beloved and respected by all who were privileged to
know him. In the spheres of education and science his quiet activities
were not unremarked. He was an admirable landlord and a most efficient
man of affairs. For his careful education of his eldest son, the
Marquess of Hartington, the nation owes him a large debt of gratitude.
[21] Thomas, seventh Earl of Newburgh, married 1817 Margaret, daughter
of the Marquess of Ailsa. Died 1833.
[22] Rt. Hon. William S. S. Lascelles, M.P., third son of the second
Earl of Harewood, married Caroline Georgiana, eldest daughter of the
sixth Earl of Carlisle.
[23] James Archibald (1776–1845), first Lord Wharncliffe, and his wife
Elizabeth, daughter of John, first Earl of Erne.
[24] George William, Lord Morpeth, afterwards seventh Earl of Carlisle,
a prominent but comparatively undistinguished member of every Whig
Administration from 1835 to 1864.
[25] Sister of Lord Cavendish (afterwards seventh Duke of Devonshire)
referred to above. She became the wife of F. J. Howard, M.P. for
Youghal.
[26] Sir Augustus Clifford, formerly Usher of the Black Rod, married
Elizabeth Frances, sister of the fourth Marquess Townshend.
[27] Afterwards wife of Charles William Grenfell, M.P.
[28] Henry Manners, third Lord Waterpark.
[29] John, sixteenth Earl of Shrewsbury (1791–1852).
[30] Lord Liverpool’s second daughter, married, first, to Lord Milton,
secondly to George Savile Foljambe, of Osberton, Notts.
[31] Louisa, third daughter of Lord Liverpool, married John Cotes of
Woodcote, Salop.
[32] Francis, first Lord Churchill, third son of George, fourth Duke of
Marlborough.
[33] Montagu, fifth Earl of Abingdon, married Emily, sister of the
third Viscount Gage.
[34] Sir John Conroy.
[35] Thomas Gaisford, Dean of Christ Church, 1831–1855.
[36] Philip Nicholas Shuttleworth, afterwards (1840–1842) Bishop of
Chichester.
[37] George, Viscount Cantelupe (1814–1850), died in the lifetime of
his father, the fifth Earl de la Warr.
[38] Jacob, afterwards fourth Earl of Radnor (1815–1889).
[39] John Henry, afterwards third Marquess of Ely (1814–1857). His
wife was in after-years Lady of the Bedchamber to Queen Victoria, and
perhaps the most widely known of her ladies.
[40] Probably Henry Edward Hall Gage (1814–1875), eldest son of the
fourth Viscount Gage, in whose lifetime he died.
[41] Charles Canning (1812–1862), afterwards Viscount Canning and
Governor-General of India.
[42] Lord Thomas Clinton (1813–1882), third son of Henry, fourth Duke
of Newcastle, K.G.
[43] Mr. Granville Leveson-Gower, afterwards second Earl Granville
(1815–1891), well known as Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in
Mr. Gladstone’s Administration.
[44] George Henry, afterwards second Earl of Falmouth (1811–1852).
[45] Princess Sophia (1777–1848) was a daughter of George III., and
younger sister of Princess Augusta Sophia (1768–1840). See p. 200.
[46] The Very Rev. George Davys, the Princess’s instructor, at this
time Dean of Chester, subsequently Bishop of Peterborough.
[47] Richard Westall (1765–1836), an R.A. since 1794 and painter of
many historical pictures.
[48] John Bernard Sale (1779–1856), organist of St. Margaret’s,
Westminster, and afterwards of the Chapel Royal.
[49] The Duchess of Gloucester. See p. 65.
[50] An attached attendant, to whose memory, after her death, the Queen
erected a tablet in St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields. She was dresser to
Princess Charlotte.
[51] Thomas Steward, teacher of writing and arithmetic.
[52] M. Grandineau, teacher of French.
[53] Mr. (afterwards Sir) George Hayter (1792–1871), a ceremonial
painter of some merit. He was the official limner of two Royal
heiresses—_i.e._ Princess Charlotte and Princess Victoria. He was
designated, somewhat equivocally, Painter in Ordinary to the Queen.
[54] William Farren (1786–1861), an actor of distinction himself, and a
member of a histrionic family of unusual merit.
[55] Mary, fourth daughter of George III., who married her cousin
William Frederick, Duke of Gloucester. She died in 1867. The Queen
looked upon her “as a sort of grandmother,” and described her as full
of kindness, amiability, and unselfishness.
[56] See _post_, p. 104.
[57] Charlotte Florentia, daughter of Edward, first Earl of Powis, and
wife of Hugh, third Duke of Northumberland, K.G., Governess to the
Princess.
[58] Daughter of the eleventh Duke of Somerset, afterwards wife of
William Blount, of Orleton, Herefordshire.
[59] The Princess’s dancing-mistress.
[60] William Howley (1766–1848), Bishop of London 1813–28, Primate
1828–48. In the opinion of Lord Grey and the Whigs “a poor, miserable
creature,” but in reality a worthy, conscientious prelate.
[61] Lord Brougham.
[62] See _ante_, p. 53.
[63] Bernard Edward, twelfth Duke of Norfolk (1765–1842). He was given
the Garter in 1834—the only K.G. of the Roman faith. He subsequently
became a Protestant.
[64] Edward Adolphus, eleventh Duke of Somerset (1775–1855). A
personage of no importance.
[65] George, fifth and last Duke of Gordon. A soldier. He fought in
Ireland (1798) and at Walcheren (1809). A friend of the Prince Regent
and a hard liver, but a high-minded, honourable man. Three of his
sisters married the Dukes of Richmond, Manchester, and Bedford. The
fourth married the Marquis Cornwallis. These achievements were due to
the talents of the old Duchess of Gordon, a Scottish lady of strong
character and accent.
[66] John Henry, fifth Duke of Rutland, K.G. (1778–1857), chiefly
remarkable as the father of “Henry Sidney,” one of Disraeli’s
well-known sketches of contemporary potentates.
[67] Elizabeth, Countess of Sutherland in her own right (1765–1839),
married George Granville, Viscount Trentham, afterwards second Marquess
of Stafford. He was created Duke of Sutherland in January 1833. She was
habitually called the “Duchess-Countess” in the family, and is still so
called.
[68] William Harry, third Earl of Darlington and first Duke of
Cleveland, K.G. See _post_, p. 98.
[69] See _ante_, p. 49.
[70] Charles, second Earl Grey, Prime Minister. Lady Grey was Mary
Elizabeth, daughter of the first Lord Ponsonby of Imskilly.
[71] Rowland, first Viscount Hill, Commander-in-Chief from 1828 to
1842—an office upon which he left no mark.
[72] Georgiana, second daughter of George, sixth Earl of Carlisle, wife
of the Rt. Hon. George James Welbore, first Lord Dover.
[73] Henry, Earl of Uxbridge, afterwards second Marquess of Anglesey, a
cavalier of spirit, and possessed of all the dashing qualities of the
Paget family.
[74] William Charles, fourth Earl of Albemarle, Master of the Horse. A
few days after her accession the Queen sent for him and said, “My Lord,
you will immediately provide for me six chargers to review my troops.”
[75] William Pitt, first Earl Amherst, quite inconspicuous as
Ambassador to China 1816–17, and Governor-General of India 1823–28.
[76] Mary Anne, wife of Sir Edward Cust, afterwards Master of the
Ceremonies to Queen Victoria.
[77] General Sir George Anson, G.C.B., Equerry to the Duchess of Kent,
afterwards Groom of the Bedchamber to Prince Albert.
[78] General Sir Frederick Wetherall served on the staff of the Duke of
Kent, and was subsequently his equerry and one of the executors of his
will.
[79] William Wyon, chief engraver at the Mint, afterwards R.A.
[80] Marie Taglioni (1809–84). Until the invasion of Europe by Russian
ballet, Taglioni’s name was the most famous in the annals of classical
operatic dancing.
[81] He was President from 1830 to 1850. By his contemporaries he was
as much esteemed as Lawrence. America, however, has not yet discovered
him.
[82] Henry Howard, appointed Professor of Painting to the Academy in
1833.
[83] Sir William Beechey, R.A. Formerly Portrait Painter to Queen
Charlotte, and finely represented at Windsor by a series of charming
portraits of Royal children.
[84] Now in the “Corridor” at Windsor Castle.
[85] Sir Charles Eastlake (P.R.A., 1850–65). He was appointed by Sir R.
Peel secretary to the Fine Arts Commission, and later still Director of
the National Gallery. A typical and meritorious P.R.A.
[86] Sir Edwin Landseer (1802–73). The most popular of British painters.
[87] Sir Augustus Wall Callcott (1779–1844). A chorister of Westminster
Abbey; subsequently a painter. Elected R.A. 1810, and knighted 1837.
[88] Henry William Pickersgill, R.A. (1782–75), a fashionable portrait
painter, patronised by famous men and women; he exhibited at the
Academy for over sixty years. He is now quite forgotten.
[89] William Hilton, R.A., (1786–1839). His work was refined, but,
owing to the pigment he used, has practically vanished.
[90] The Duke, who was the eldest son of King Louis Philippe, was
born at Palermo in 1810, and in July 1842 was thrown from his phaeton
near the Porte Maillot in Paris, and died on the spot. His youth and
popularity, his love of art and literature, and his professional
efficiency as a soldier might, had he lived, have served to give the
events of 1848 a different turn. He was, however, a Bourbon.
[91] Wife of Leopold, King of the Belgians.
[92] The veteran Prince Talleyrand (1754–1838), once Bishop of Autun,
Republican, Bonapartist, Legitimist, and cynic; everything by turns and
everything remarkably _long_. See p. 331, and Vol. II. p. 61.
[93] The Duchesse de Dino (Princesse de Sagan), niece of Prince
Talleyrand. Her own memoirs have preserved her memory.
[94] Henry, third Marquess of Lansdowne (1780–1863). A typical and most
eminent Whig. He twice refused to be Prime Minister, but held office in
every Whig Administration from 1830 to 1858. He was Chancellor of the
Exchequer in the Ministry of “All the Talents.” He was a fine judge of
art. No statesman of his time was more universally trusted.
[95] George Granville succeeded his father, the first Duke of
Sutherland (see _ante_, p. 68, n.), in July 1833. His wife, Harriet
Elizabeth Georgiana, third daughter of the sixth Earl of Carlisle, was
the first Mistress of the Robes selected by Queen Victoria.
[96] Charles Augustus (1776–1859), fifth Earl of Tankerville, married
Corisande, daughter of Antoine, Duc de Gramont: she possessed great
charm of manner and a fine turn of wit. She had many attached friends
of both sexes. See Vol. II. p. 221.
[97] William Philip (1772–1838), second Earl of Sefton, married Maria
Margaret, daughter of William, sixth Lord Craven.
[98] See _ante_, p. 49.
[99] Thomas William (1795–1854), second Viscount Anson, had been
created in 1831 Earl of Lichfield. He married Louisa Catherine,
daughter of Nathaniel Philips, of Slebech Hall, co. Pembroke.
[100] First Earl Granville, youngest son of first Marquess of Stafford
(1773–1846), Ambassador to St. Petersburg 1804, and afterwards for many
years at Paris. He married the daughter of the fifth Duke of Devonshire.
[101] Lord Palmerston, born 1781, died Prime Minister 1865. Lord
Palmerston was now fifty-two years old. In years to come, this child
of thirteen was destined to overthrow him, when at the height of his
popularity, to receive him again as her Prime Minister, and to turn
to him in the great crisis of her life twenty-eight years after their
first meeting.
[102] See _ante_, p. 54.
[103] John William, Lord Duncannon. A Whig placeman. As Earl of
Bessborough (1846) he became Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and died in
office in 1847.
[104] Hugh, Lord Ebrington, afterwards second Earl Fortescue. Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland, 1839–41.
[105] Sylvain Van de Weyer (1802–74), Belgian Minister at the Court of
St. James’s, a trusted friend of King Leopold and of Queen Victoria.
He had been a prominent leader of the Revolution in Belgium, 1830, and
a protagonist of the separation of Belgium and Holland. His wit and
charming personality gave him a prominent place in London society. He
married the daughter of Joshua Bates, senior partner in Barings.
[106] Edward Geoffrey Stanley (1799–1869), the Rupert of debate, at
this time Secretary for the Colonies, afterwards (as Earl of Derby)
three times Prime Minister. Mrs. Stanley was Emma Caroline, daughter of
Edward, first Lord Skelmersdale.
[107] Mr. Ellice (1781–1863), born at Montreal, M.P. for Coventry
and Secretary at War. He had been a very successful Government Whip;
nick-named “Bear” Ellice from his connection with the Hudson Bay
Company. He married a sister of Earl Grey.
[108] James Abercromby (1776–1858), son of the gallant Sir Ralph
Abercromby, who died in the moment of victory at Alexandria in 1801. At
this time M.P. for Edinburgh. Became Speaker of the House of Commons in
1835, and was created Lord Dunfermline four years later.
[109] The Baroness Späth, Lady-in-Waiting to the Duchess of Kent.
[110] General Sir Robert Gardiner was Principal Equerry to Prince
Leopold of Saxe-Coburg at his marriage with Princess Charlotte. In
later life he was Governor and Commander-in-Chief at Gibraltar.
[111] William George Maton, M.D., Physician Extraordinary to the
Duchess of Kent and Princess Victoria.
[112] George (1819–1904), afterwards Duke of Cambridge and
Commander-in-Chief. He was two months older than the Princess, so that
he was now fourteen years old.
[113] Arabella, wife of the fourth Earl, a Lady-in-waiting to Queen
Adelaide. She was a Miss Mackworth Praed.
[114] Daughters of the eleventh Earl of Pembroke. Lady Emma afterwards
married the third Viscount de Vesci, and Lady Georgiana the fourth
Marquess of Lansdowne.
[115] Daughters of the fifth Earl of Jersey. Lady Sarah afterwards
married Prince Nicholas Esterhazy (see p. 190), eldest son of the
famous diplomatist. Lady Clementina died unmarried in 1858.
[116] Younger son of Prince and Princess de Lieven. The Prince had been
for over twenty years Russian Minister or Ambassador in London; the
Princess was the inveterate correspondent of Earl Grey.
[117] George Guy, afterwards fourth Earl of Warwick, and an A.D.C. to
Queen Victoria. Died 1893. At this time he was fifteen years of age.
[118] Charles Henry, Earl of March, afterwards sixth Duke of Richmond
and first Duke of Gordon of a new creation. He held several high
offices in Conservative Administrations, being Lord President of the
Council 1874–80, and Secretary for Scotland 1885–6. He, like Lord
Brooke, was about fifteen at this time; and was at Westminster School.
In after-years the Queen relied much upon his excellent political
judgment.
[119] George, eighth Earl of Athlone (1820–43). The first Earl was
Godert de Ginkell, the well-known General of William III.
[120] A younger brother of Lord March; drowned in the _President_
steamer in 1841. He was at this time thirteen years old.
[121] John Frederick, afterwards M.P. for Pembrokeshire and second Earl
Cawdor.
[122] Their father was Alexander, Duke of Würtemberg. Prince Alexander
afterwards married Princess Marie, daughter of King Louis Philippe; she
died in 1839, less than two years after their marriage.
[123] A cousin of the Princess Victoria and of Princes Alexander and
Ernst, the mother of the Duchess of Kent, having been a Princess of
Reuss-Ebersdorff.
[124] Afterwards Duchess of Argyll.
[125] Afterwards Lady Blantyre.
[126] Lady Caroline Lascelles, and her daughter, afterwards Mrs.
Grenfell.
[127] Madame Malibran was now about twenty-five years of age. See
_post_, p. 168.
[128] Henry Lynedoch Gardiner, son of General Sir Robert Gardiner. He
was afterwards Equerry in Ordinary to Queen Victoria.
[129] Sir Colin Campbell (1792–1863), afterwards F.-M. Lord Clyde,
Commander-in-Chief in India. He saw more active service than any
British Field-Marshal before or since. No soldier was ever braver, more
merciful, and more modest.