The French King was conveyed to his native shore from Dover by the Duke

of Clarence. On his arrival at Paris, the same white symbol of ancient

servitude and modern rebellion was substituted for the tricolor cockade,

long endeared to the French army by the sacred rights of which it was an

emblem and by the recollection of numberless victories in which it had

been worn. In the same spirit, the restored Prince assumed the title of

Louis the _Eighteenth_, thereby proclaiming himself heir to the rights

which the nation had neglected or denied, and not merely of those they

had instituted and acknowledged. He contrived to evade, or to alter even,

the conditions of his recall. The Emperor of Russia himself affected to

lament the adherence of the restored dynasty to ancient and exploded

notions, and a remark of Prince Talleyrand’s on the Royalists was much

repeated, namely, that they had _forgotten_ nothing and _learnt_ nothing

during their emigration.[192]

Peace was signed at Paris on May 30, 1814. The Confederates, with a view

of reconciling the French to the counter-revolution, either generously or

foolishly abstained from imposing such conditions on the House of Bourbon

as the respective situation of their forces would have enabled and

entitled them to exact from France. Lord Castlereagh neglected to insist

on the general, immediate, and final abolition of the Slave Trade.[193]

The Saints,[194] and indeed the public in England, were deeply

disappointed at this omission, which, whether oversight or design,

betrayed indifference in the cause. It was, at least, no matter of

surprise to those who reflected that the English Ministry was exclusively

composed of men who, during the long controversy on that subject, had

uniformly signalised themselves as the enemies of the abolition, and

represented the zeal in its favour as the enthusiasm of visionaries or

the pretences of designing hypocrites.

Lord Wellington had the bad taste to accept of the Embassy to Paris—a

station which he filled with less credit to himself than any to which his

fortune had called him.

The Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia visited England early in

June. The Emperor of Austria had been expected, but pleaded business or

health as an excuse. If his object was to ingratiate himself with the

Prince Regent, he did not act injudiciously in absenting himself. The

King of Prussia attracted little notice, either in society or among the

populace. He appeared what he was—a plain soldier and mere corporal, and

he was overshadowed by his own dragoon, General Blucher, whose coarse and

jovial manners, the result of vulgar ignorance and military good-humour,

together with his veteran appearance, rendered him a prodigious favourite

with the multitude. Alexander very reasonably excited more curiosity

and interest. His extensive empire, his inordinate and uncontrolled

power, his age, and even his personal qualities, which, though not

extraordinary, were far superior to those of his brother Sovereigns, his

recent popularity at Paris, and a thousand other circumstances, made him

an object of attention to all who affected or felt any concern in the

events of the political world. Moreover, he lay out for popularity; he

acted his part decently in society and very well in public. A monarch

younger than himself, thus caressing and caressed by an English crowd,

afforded no gratification to the Prince Regent; and he could not but

be nettled at a foreign Prince, manifestly observant of such matters,

becoming a witness to his personal unpopularity in the streets and to the

liberties taken both with his Administration and his family in Parliament.

From contrivance or from accident a conversation arose in the Commons

on subjects connected with the Princess of Wales on the very day the

Sovereigns visited that House.[195] It was as notorious as it was strange

that while the cannon were actually announcing the signature of peace by

victorious generals in the capital of the enemy, the Prince Regent was

pursued in his passage from Carlton to Buckingham House by the hisses

and execrations of the people! These were not agreeable scenes to be

exhibited to such foreign spectators.

It is true that when the Sovereigns accompanied His Royal Highness into

the city no such marks of displeasure escaped from the throngs who

pressed upon them, but even then the populace were at some pains to

make it manifest that affection for their own Prince had no share in

reconciling them to the cavalcade or assemblage of Monarchs, which they

applauded. It was obvious that Alexander remarked these appearances: it

was, moreover, whispered at Court that he and his sister, the Duchess

of Oldenburg, had been busy in estranging the mind of the Princess

Charlotte from a marriage with Henry, the Prince of Orange,[196] then

in contemplation. It is certain that a matrimonial alliance took place

soon afterwards between that Prince and an Arch-duchess of Russia. The

apprehension of having been outwitted in a political intrigue by the

two Russian visitors exasperated the Prince Regent not a little, and

all these considerations produced in his mind a strong personal dislike

to the Emperor Alexander. It was shrewdly suspected that the scheme of

marriage, thus frustrated by the Russians, had been entertained by the

Court of Carlton House, with the double view of removing from the eyes of

the public the object of their growing idolatry and from the Princess of

Wales the only person in whose society she could find any resource and

from whose affections she could derive any support. On the other hand,

it is just to add that the advisers of the Prince Regent have maintained

that his principal motive in pressing an immediate marriage, and possibly

in preferring one which would lead to occasional absences from England,

was a knowledge and dread of the singular impropriety, both of conduct

and conversation, of her mother, and a well-grounded suspicion of a

systematic design in that quarter of involving Princess Charlotte in

imprudent, if not criminal, intercourse with young officers and men of

gallantry and adventure.

Stories of that sort, well or ill authenticated, certainly formed an

original part of the green bag of 1820;[197] and the readiness with which

the Prince Regent and the old Queen acquiesced in, and even promoted,

the subsequent marriage with Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, though not

suggested by either of them,[198] is some presumptive proof that an

early marriage, and not absence, was the object they had chiefly in

view. The conduct of the young lady, if not indecorous, was at least

intrepid enough. She showed strong dispositions to continue the habit

of the Brunswick family, and, had she lived, a disunion between the

child and the parent would in all probability have been as prominent a

feature in the reign of George IV. as it had been in those of his three

predecessors. She peremptorily declined marriage with the Prince of

Orange, and in her letter to him contrived to assign the two motives most

unpalatable to her father, _viz._, a repugnance to any residence abroad

and a strong affection for her mother. The letter was as follows:

WARWICK HOUSE, _16 June, 1814_.

After reconsidering, according to your wishes, the conversation

that passed between us this morning, I am still of opinion

the duties and affections that naturally bind us to our own

respective countries render our marriage incompatible, not only

from motives of policy, but domestic happiness. From recent

circumstances that have occurred I am fully convinced that

my interest is naturally connected with that of my mother,

and that my residence out of this Kingdom would be equally

prejudicial to her interests and my own; as I can never forget

the maternal claims she has upon my duty and attachment. I am

equally aware of the claims your country has upon you. It was

this consideration, added to the desire I had of complying

with your wishes, which induced me some time ago to agree to

accompany you to Holland, if I obtained satisfactory security

of having it in my power to return. Since that time the many

unforeseen events that have occurred, particularly those

regarding the Princess,[199] make me feel it impossible to quit

England at present, or to enter into any engagement leading to

it at a future time.

After what has passed this morning between us (which was much

too conclusive to require explanation), I must consider our

engagement from this moment to be _totally and for ever at an

end_. I leave the explanation of this affair to be made by you

to the Prince in whatever manner is most agreeable to you,

trusting it entirely to your honour (of which for a moment

I never doubted). I cannot conclude without expressing the

sincere concern I feel in being the cause of giving you pain;

which feeling, however, is lessened in a degree by the hope I

stand acquitted in your eyes of having acted dishonourably by

you in the course of this business, or of having ever raised

false hopes in your mind with respect to my consenting to a

residence abroad. You must recollect that in a letter from me

to yours of May 3, that I told you that it was impossible for

me to give any promise on that subject, as it must totally

depend on circumstances.

It only now remains for me to entreat you to accept my

sincerest and best wishes for your happiness, and to express

the friendship and interest I shall always feel towards you.

(Signed) CHARLOTTE.[200]

[Illustration: _Princess Charlotte_

_Sir T. Lawrence, P.R.A. Pinx._

_Emery Walker Ph. Sc._]

The selection of topics in the above letter was unquestionably as

offensive as it could be to the Prince Regent. The unforeseen events

regarding the Princess of Wales were: her late exclusion from Court,

her husband’s declaration that he would never meet her, her appeal to

Parliament in a letter to the Speaker, and the discussions that arose

thereupon.[201] The Prince was exceedingly irritated, and, after various

altercations with his daughter, in which according to her account many

menaces were resorted to, exasperated or alarmed her so much that she

suddenly eloped on July 12, and conveyed herself in a hackney coach to

her mother’s house in Connaught Place. She did so _certainly_ without

legal advice, and I have been always assured without any concert with

the Princess of Wales, who, after consulting Mr. Brougham and the Duke

of Sussex, persuaded her to return.[202] The only use that Princess

Charlotte made of her strange and indecorous _escapade_, was to record a

solemn declaration _while she was at liberty_, that she had herself, of

her own free will, broken off the match with the Prince of Orange, and

that it should never take place.

Soon after these transactions, or rather while they were passing, I left

England, and spent the remainder of the year 1814 abroad. I consequently

know little or nothing that occurred in this country from that time

till the renewal of war in 1815 that is not to be found in newspapers,

Parliamentary reports, and _Annual Registers_.

INTRODUCTION TO BOOK THE FOURTH

The Treaty of Paris in 1814 had materially assisted to restore Europe to

its condition of a quarter of a century before; but the new spirit of

republicanism, inspired by the doctrines of the French Revolution, had in

most cases forced upon the restored Sovereigns a growing regard for the

comfort and welfare of their subjects.

Spain was an unfortunate exception of this happy state of affairs.

Ferdinand, at best little more than a buffoon, celebrated his return to

power by renouncing the Constitution of 1812 and persecuting its chief

supporters. The Spaniards, blind to everything but their veneration

of the name of Monarchy, gave him their entire confidence. This

unfortunately was completely misplaced; the state of the people became as

it was in the worst period of Charles IV.’s reign, and the country again

became a prey to the rapacity of favourites and the extortions of an

unscrupulous clergy.

The re-establishment of the Bourbons in France commenced more peacefully,

but rumours of serious disaffection were soon rife in Paris. Louis

XVIII. had granted a charter on his return, framed on very liberal and

enlightened lines, but his weakness in pandering to the emigrants and

the clergy created much disaffection, especially in the army.

The Congress held at Vienna had many difficulties with which to contend;

and the meetings barely escaped an abrupt termination. A secret

combination of England, France, and Austria was formed to resist the

designs of Russia and Prussia on Poland and Saxony; but fortunately

matters were successfully arranged, and before the chance for further

dissension could arise, complete unanimity was restored by the news

of the escape of Napoleon from Elba. The deposed Emperor, who had

received information of the fact that the people of France were not

satisfied with their present rulers, landed near Cannes on February

26, and advanced north. The country rallied to him as one man, and

within a month he entered Paris. Any hopes, however, that he may have

had of a peaceful retention of France were soon dispelled. The Allied

Sovereigns at once renewed their pledges of combined action; Napoleon was

proclaimed an outlaw, and steps were concerted to cope with the common

danger. Murat took up arms in Italy to assist his former master, but was

easily overthrown by the Austrians, and his forces dispersed. Napoleon,

preferring to fight outside the borders of France, advanced into Belgium

at the head of 129,000 men. The campaign, which lasted less than a week,

terminated at Waterloo. Napoleon fled first to Paris, and afterwards to

Rochefort, whence he hoped to escape to the United States accompanied

by a few faithful adherents. He was, however, unable to carry out his

design, and in despair went on board an English man-of-war, throwing

himself on the mercy of the Prince Regent. The British Government,

determined on this occasion to choose some spot whence there could be no

possibility of return, fixed on St. Helena, and Napoleon ended his days

there in 1821.

Louis XVIII. was restored to the throne on the re-occupation of Paris by

the Allies. The second Treaty of Paris was signed in November, after much

discussion as to the terms to be imposed. By the most important clauses,

France was to pay indemnities amounting to about £40,000,000, and to

defray the cost of an occupation of the northern provinces by an Allied

force of 150,000 men for five years. In the meanwhile, the members of

the Congress of Vienna had continued and terminated their endeavours to

effect a lasting settlement of Europe. The kingdom of Poland was included

in the dominions of the Czar; half Saxony and the Duchy of Warsaw were

joined to Prussia; the smaller German states were federated; and other

international questions, such as the Abolition of the Slave Trade,

received serious attention.

The restoration of the Bourbons was the signal for a political reaction

throughout France, which in parts of the country developed tendencies

reminiscent of the Revolution. Royalist outbreaks took place in the

south on the receipt of the news of Napoleon’s overthrow, and continued

with violence until forcibly repressed with the assistance of the army

of occupation. The election of the Chamber, which took place in August,

1815, resulted in a complete victory for the Ultra-Royalists, to the

almost entire exclusion of the Liberal and Republican parties. Fouché and

Talleyrand were dismissed, and a new Ministry was formed under the Duc

de Richelieu, which at once took in hand the prosecution of those men

excepted by name from the Acts of Amnesty. Most of them had been sensible

enough to leave the country, but some had remained, and of these Ney and

Labedoyère paid the penalty for their temerity. The policy of the new

Ministry, whose hands were forced by the violence of their supporters,

became more and more advanced, and within two years the _rôles_ of the

two parties seemed reversed, the _Ultras_ attempting to weaken the Royal

power, and the Liberals to support the monarchy. The allied forces, under

the supreme command of Wellington, continued their occupation of the

French territories until 1818, when they were withdrawn.

The final termination of a war which had increased the English National

Debt by over £550,000,000, raised hopes in the breasts of the people of

England, which unfortunately proved to be fallacious. The nation expected

that an alleviation of the grievous burden of taxation from which it

had been suffering would be accompanied by a revival of trade. The year

1815 certainly seemed to foretell happier times, but the following year

witnessed a reaction which plunged the poorer portion of the population

in the direst distress. The propertied and influential classes, terrified

at the excesses of the French Revolution, strained every nerve to

discount all popular movements. A Corn Law, passed in 1815, forbidding

the importation of corn until the price reached 80_s._ a quarter, as

well as the repeal of the Property Tax, increased the destitution of

the agricultural labourers and dwellers in the manufacturing towns.

The discontent and agitation were encouraged by William Cobbett’s

paper, _The Weekly Register_, which advocated universal suffrage and

annual parliaments. The Regent, on his return from the House of Lords

in 1816, was assailed by stones, while riots and seditious meetings

were common throughout the country. Lord Sidmouth, the Home Secretary,

covering the weakness of Government with a specious appearance of power,

carried the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act, and originated other

arbitrary forms of repression. These, however, were insufficient to

quell the disturbances. Meetings were held in all parts of England, and

the celebrated riot near Manchester in 1819, known as the “Massacre of

Peterloo,” raised a storm of protests against the stringent enactments

carried by Lord Liverpool’s Administration. The laws, however, in

restraint of sedition, termed “The Six Acts,” which were passed during

the same year, had their effect; and a revival of trade in 1820 caused a

momentary lull in the radical campaign for reform.

Many deaths occurred in the Royal Family during 1817 and the three

succeeding years. In 1817 Princess Charlotte, the Prince Regent’s only

child, who had married Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg during the preceding

year, died in childbirth; and a year later occurred the death of Queen

Charlotte. Early in January, 1820, the Duke of Kent died, leaving an only

daughter, destined to succeed to the throne as Queen Victoria; and before

the end of the month George III. terminated his miserable and sorely

afflicted existence.

The accession of the Prince Regent again brought into public notice

the unhappy dissensions between him and his wife. He entirely refused

to allow her name to be inserted in the Prayer Book; and on her return

to England to assert her rights as Queen Consort, he compelled the

Government to bring the matter forward in Parliament. Lord Liverpool,

realising that the measure would increase George IV.’s unpopularity with

his subjects, implored him to be content with moderate counsels; but the

King, firm in his resolve, refused to be satisfied with anything less

than a divorce. Queen Caroline’s arrival in London was little less than

a triumphal procession, and demonstrated clearly the sympathy of the

country with her cause. After a secret Committee had reported on the

case, a bill was brought forward against her in the House of Lords, in

the summer of 1820, but was dropped for good and all in October, when the

Government majority, on the third reading, dwindled to nine. The unhappy

lady did not long survive, for she died of internal inflammation early in

August, 1821, after a fruitless attempt, not three weeks before, to take

her place at her husband’s Coronation.

The five years which succeeded the termination of the war on the

Continent passed without any striking incident; but in 1820 movements

were set on foot in several of the Mediterranean States, notably Spain,

Italy, and Greece, to obtain more liberal forms of government. In Spain

the restoration of the Constitution of 1812, withdrawn by the arbitrary

decree of Ferdinand VII. in 1814, was successfully demanded, and the

movement spread with like results to Portugal.

The insurgents at Naples were not equally fortunate in their attempts

to diminish the tyrannical powers of their King, Ferdinand IV. The

question was discussed by a Congress of European Sovereigns at Laybach,

who decided that Ferdinand should be allowed to retain his arbitrary

powers uncurtailed, and that an Austrian army should be sent to enforce

their resolution. Great Britain took no part in this despotic action of

the Powers; and the exemption of Spain from external interference was

chiefly due to a protest from the English Government against the right of

the Allied Powers to intervene in the internal affairs and government of

other States.

BOOK THE FOURTH

1815-1821

N.B.—This book contains notes for Memoirs from the summer of 1815 [to the

autumn of 1821].

It was not begun till 1830, and _many_ of the facts are from memory,

unassisted by notes taken at the time, though refreshed generally by

reference to some correspondence or document.—V.H.

When I transcribed my notes for Memoirs in 1825, I meant that they should

end at the close of the year 1814. I proposed to confine all my future

labours of the kind to the completion of two supplementary chapters

already begun, one of which related to foreign characters and events,

and is now brought down to the year 1815,[203] and the other,[204] still

in hand, relates to such as having fallen within my observation either

in England or elsewhere before 1815, seem to me, albeit unconnected with

politics, not destitute of interest.

It is not necessary to account, much less to apologise, for having at

one time abandoned a task which I had voluntarily imposed upon myself.

It may with more reason be expected that I should explain my motives in

resuming it now. The truth is, that the third expulsion of the Bourbons

from France in July, 1830, has in some little degree revived in my breast

the spirits and hopes which animated me at an earlier period of life:

Agnosco veteris vestigia flammæ.

Moreover, the accession of King William, to whom my son[205] is attached

both by connection and gratitude, makes it possible that I may be privy

to the secret causes of public and party transactions, although neither

my age, position, nor inclinations render it likely that I either can or

shall take a more active part in them than I have done for fifteen years

past.[206] Of the events of these fifteen years my report must be rapid

and imperfect. I have taken little share in party councils during that

period, and have preserved few memorials of the events, especially of the

first five.

I returned to England in the summer of 1815—the day, I believe, that the

Emperor Napoleon was brought to our shores in a British man-of-war, and

after the second restoration of the Bourbons had been virtually effected.

To both those restorations it is strange but true that the personal

character and predilections of George IV. had mainly contributed. On

the first occasion, without the knowledge of Lord Castlereagh and the

Ministers, he connived at, if he did not contrive, the arrival of the

Bourbon Princes at Bordeaux and other places in France, and during the

negotiations at Chatillon he resorted to many underhand manœuvres to

prevent any termination of them which did not include the restoration of

the pretended legitimate dynasty.

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