He now gradually withdrew from the betting ring as a regular blackleg, still keeping horses, and betting occasionally in large sums, and about a year or two ago, having previously sold the Hare Park to Sir Mark Wood, where he lived for two or three years, he bought a property near Pontefract, and settled down (at Ackworth Park) as John Gully, Esq., a gentleman of fortune. At the Reform dissolution he was pressed to come forward as candidate for Pontefract, but after some hesitation he declined. Latterly he has taken great interest in politics, and has been an ardent Reformer and a liberal subscriber for the advancement of the cause. When Parliament was about to be dissolved, he was again invited to stand for Pontefract by a numerous deputation; he again hesitated, but finally accepted; Lord Mexborough withdrew, and he was elected without opposition. In person he is tall and finely formed, full of strength and grace, with delicate hands and feet, his face coa.r.s.e and with a bad expression, his head set well on his shoulders, and remarkably graceful and even dignified in his actions and manners; totally without education, he has strong sense, discretion, reserve, and a species of good taste which has prevented, in the height of his fortunes, his behaviour from ever transgressing the bounds of modesty and respect, and he has gradually separated himself from the rabble of bettors and blackguards of whom he was once the most conspicuous, and tacitly a.s.serted his own independence and acquired gentility without ever presuming towards those whom he has been accustomed to regard with deference. His position is now more anomalous than ever, for a member of Parliament is a great man, though there appear no reasons why the suffrages of the blackguards of Pontefract should place him in different social relations towards us than those in which we mutually stood before.

Petworth, December 20th, 1832 {p.336}

[Page Head: EARL OF EGREMONT.]

Came here yesterday. It is a very grand place; house magnificent and full of fine objects, both ancient and modern; the Sir Joshuas and Vand.y.k.es particularly interesting, and a great deal of all sorts that is worth seeing. Lord Egremont was eighty-one the day before yesterday, and is still healthy, with faculties and memory apparently unimpaired. He has reigned here for sixty years with great authority and influence. He is shrewd, eccentric, and benevolent, and has always been munificent and charitable in his own way; he patronises the arts and fosters rising genius. Painters and sculptors find employment and welcome in his house; he has built a gallery which is full of pictures and statues, some of which are very fine, and the pictures scattered through the house are interesting and curious. Lord Egremont hates ceremony, and can't bear to be personally meddled with; he likes people to come and go as it suits them, and say nothing about it, never to take leave of him. The party here consists of the Cowpers, his own family, a Lady E. Romney, two nieces, Mrs. Tredcroft a neighbour, Ridsdale a parson, Wynne, Turner, the great landscape painter, and a young artist of the name of Lucas, whom Lord Egremont is bringing into notice, and who will owe his fortune (if he makes it) to him. Lord Egremont is enormously rich, and lives with an abundant though not very refined hospitality. The house wants modern comforts, and the servants are rustic and uncouth; but everything is good, and it all bears an air of solid and aristocratic grandeur. The stud groom told me there are 300 horses of different sorts here. His course, however, is nearly run, and he has the mortification of feeling that, though surrounded with children and grandchildren, he is almost the last of his race, and that his family is about to be extinct. Two old brothers and one childless nephew are all that are left of the Wyndhams, and the latter has been many years married. All his own children are illegitimate, but he has everything in his power, though n.o.body has any notion of the manner in which he will dispose of his property. It is impossible not to reflect upon the prodigious wealth of the Earls of Northumberland, and of the proud Duke of Somerset who married the last heiress of that house, the betrothed of three husbands. All that Lord Egremont has, all the Duke of Northumberland's property, and the Duke of Rutland's Cambridgeshire estate belonged to them, which together is probably equivalent to between 200,000 and 300,000 a year. Banks told me that the Northumberland property, when settled on Sir H. Smithson, was not above 12,000 a year.[2]

[2] [The eleventh Earl of Northumberland, Joscelyn Percy, died in 1670, leaving an only daughter, who married Charles Seymour, ninth Duke of Somerset. This lady is described as 'the betrothed of three husbands,' because she was married at fourteen to Henry Cavendish, son of the Duke of Newcastle, who died in the following year.

She was then affianced to Thomas Thynne of Longleat, who was a.s.sa.s.sinated in 1682; and at last married to the Duke of Somerset. The eldest son of this marriage, Algernon Seymour, who succeeded to the Dukedom of Somerset in 1748, was created Earl of Northumberland on the 2nd of October, 1749, and Earl of Egremont on the following day, with remainder (as regards the latter t.i.tle) to his nephew Sir Charles Wyndham, who succeeded him in February 1750. The Earldom of Northumberland pa.s.sed at the same time to Sir Hugh Smithson, son-in-law of Duke Algernon, who was created Duke of Northumberland in 1766. The t.i.tles and the vast property of the Duke of Somerset, Earl of Northumberland, thus came to be divided.

George O'Brien Wyndham, third Earl of Egremont, to whom Mr. Greville paid this visit, was born on the 18th of December, 1751. He was therefore eighty-two years old at this time; but he lived five years longer, and died in 1837, famous and beloved for his splendid hospitality and for his liberal and judicious patronage of the arts, and likewise of the turf.]

Brighton, December 31st, 1832 {p.338}

Lady Howe gave me an account of the offer of the Chamberlainship to her husband again. They added the condition that he should not oppose Government, but was not to be obliged to support them.

This he refused, and he regarded the proposal as an insult; so the Queen was not conciliated the more. She likewise told me that the cause of her former wrath when he was dismissed was that neither the King nor Lord Grey told her of it, and that if they had she would have consented to the sacrifice at once with a good grace; but in the way it was done she thought herself grossly ill-used. It is impossible to ascertain the exact nature of this connexion. Howe conducts himself towards her like a young ardent lover; he never is out of the Pavilion, dines there almost every day, or goes every evening, rides with her, never quitting her side, and never takes his eyes off her. She does nothing, but she admits his attentions and acquiesces in his devotion; at the same time there is not the smallest evidence that she treats him as a lover. If she did it would be soon known, for she is surrounded by enemies. All the Fitzclarences dislike her, and treat her more or less disrespectfully. She is aware of it, but takes no notice.

She is very civil and good-humoured to them all; and as long as they keep within the bounds of decency, and do not break out into actual impertinence, she probably will continue so.

[Page Head: NAMIK PACHA.]

Two nights ago there was a great a.s.sembly after a dinner for the reception of the Turkish Amba.s.sador, Namik Pacha. He was brought down by Palmerston and introduced before dinner to the King and Queen. He is twenty-eight years old, speaks French well, and has good manners; his dress very simple--a red cap, black vest, trousers and boots, a gold chain and medal round his neck. He did not take out any lady to dinner, but was placed next the Queen.

After dinner the King made him a ridiculous speech, with abundant flourishes about the Sultan and his friendship for him, which is the more droll from his having been High Admiral at the time of the battle of Navarino, to which the Pacha replied in a sonorous voice. He admired everything, and conversed with great ease. All the stupid, vulgar Englishwomen followed him about as a lion with offensive curiosity.

1833.

January 3rd, 1833 {p.339}

Lady Howe begged her husband to show me the correspondence between him and Sir Herbert Taylor about the Chamberlainship. It is long and confused; Taylor's first letter, in my opinion, very impertinent, for it reads him a pretty severe lecture about his behaviour when he held the office before. Howe is a foolish man, but in this business he acted well enough, better than might have been expected. Taylor, by the King's desire, proposed to him to resume the office; and after some cavilling he agreed to do so with liberty to vote as he pleased, but promising not to be violent. So stood the matter on the 9th of September. He heard nothing more of it till the 5th of November, when young Hudson[3]

wrote by the King's orders to know definitely if he meant to take it, but that if he did he must be 'neutral.' Howe wrote back word that on such terms he declined it. I told him my opinion of the whole business, and added my strenuous advice that he should immediately prevail on the Queen to appoint somebody else. I could not tell him all that people said, but I urged it as strongly as I could, hinting that there were very urgent reasons for so doing. He did not relish this advice at all, owned that he clung tenaciously to the office, liked everything about it, and longed to avail himself of some change of circ.u.mstances to return; and that though he was no longer her officer, he had ever since done all the business, and in fact was, without the name, as much her Chamberlain as ever. Lady Howe, who is vexed to death at the whole thing, was enchanted at my advice, and vehemently urged him to adopt it. After he went away she told me how glad she was at what I had said, and asked me if people did not say and believe everything of Howe's connexion with the Queen, which I told her they did. I must say that what pa.s.sed is enough to satisfy me that there is what is called 'nothing in it' but the folly and vanity of being the confidential officer and councillor of this hideous Queen, for whom he has worked himself up into a sort of chivalrous devotion. Yesterday Howe spoke to the Queen about it, and proposed to speak to the King; the Queen (he says) would not hear of it, and forbad his speaking to the King. To-day he is gone away, and I don't know what he settled, probably nothing.

[3] ['Young Hudson' was the page of honour who was sent to Rome in the following year to fetch Sir Robert Peel, when, as Mr. Disraeli expressed it, 'the hurried Hudson rushed into the chambers of his Vatican.' He grew up to be a very able and distinguished diplomatist, Sir James Hudson, G.C.B., who rendered great services to the cause of Italian independence.]

[Page Head: LYNDHURST AND MANNERS SUTTON.]

Lyndhurst dined here the day before yesterday. Finding I knew all that had pa.s.sed about the negotiations for a Tory Government in the middle of the Reform question, he told me his story, which differs very little from that which Arbuthnot had told me at Downham, and fully corroborates his account of the duplicity of Peel and the extraordinary conduct of Lyndhurst himself. He said that as soon as he had left the King he went to the Duke, who said he must go directly to Peel. Peel refused to join. The Duke desired him to go back to Peel, and propose to him to be Prime Minister and manage everything himself. Peel still declined, on which he went to Baring. Baring begged he might consult Peel, which was granted. He came back, said he would take office, but that they must invite Manners Sutton also. They did so, and Sutton refused. Vesey Fitzgerald, however, suggested to Lyndhurst that if they proposed to Sutton to be Prime Minister perhaps he would accept. Another conversation ensued with Sutton, and a meeting was fixed at Apsley House on the Sunday. In the meantime Lyndhurst went down to the King and told him what had taken place, adding that Sutton would not do, and that the Duke alone could form a Government. At Apsley House Sutton talked for three hours, and such infernal nonsense that Lyndhurst was ready to go mad; nor would he decide. They pressed him to say if he would take office or not. He said he must wait till the next morning.

They said, 'It must be very early, then.' In the morning he put off deciding (on some frivolous pretext) till the afternoon. He went to the House of Commons without having given any answer. The famous debate ensued, and the whole game was up.

All this tallies with the other account, only he did not say that Peel had desired Baring to insist on Sutton, and had advised Sutton to take no place but the highest, nor that he had without the Duke's knowledge offered Sutton that post, and concealed from Sutton his subsequent opinion of his incapacity and determination that he should not have it. I asked Lyndhurst how he managed with Sutton, and whether he had not come to Apsley House with the impression on his mind that he was to be Premier. He said that 'he had evaded that question with Sutton'--that is, all parties were deceived, while the Duke, who meant to act n.o.bly, suffered all the blame. He showed great disregard of personal interests and selfish views, but I shall always think his error was enormous. It is remarkable that this story is so little known.

They had a dinner and dancing the night before last at the Pavilion for New Year's Day; and the King danced a country dance with Lord Amelius Beauclerc, an old Admiral.

London, January 11th, 1833 {p.341}

Came to town with Alvanley the day before yesterday. Howe plucked up courage, spoke to the King and Queen, and settled Denbigh's appointment,[4] though not without resistance on the part of their Majesties. Lord Grey came down, and was very well received by both. At the commerce table the King sat by him, and was full of jokes; called him continually 'Lord Howe,' to the great amus.e.m.e.nt of the bystanders and of Lord Grey himself. Munster came down and was reconciled, condescending _moyennant_ a douceur of 2,500 to accept the Constableship of the Round Tower. The stories of the King are uncommonly ridiculous. He told Madame de Ludolf, who had been Amba.s.sadress at Constantinople, that he desired she would recommend Lady Ponsonby to all her friends there, and she might tell them she was the daughter of one of his late brother's sultanas (Lady Jersey). His Majesty insisted on Lord Stafford's taking the t.i.tle of Sutherland, and ordered Gower to send him an express to say so. One day at dinner he asked the Duke of Devonshire '_where he meant to be buried!_'

[4] [William Basil Percy, seventh Earl of Denbigh, was appointed Chamberlain to Queen Adelaide at this time, and remained in the service of her Majesty--a most excellent and devoted servant--to the close of her life.]

[Page Head: STATE OF THE TORY PARTY.]

I received a few days ago at Brighton the draft of a Bill of Brougham's for transferring the jurisdiction of the Delegates to the Privy Council, or rather for creating a new Court and sinking the Privy Council in it. Lord Lansdowne sent it to me, and desired me to send him my opinion upon it. I showed it to Stephen, and returned it to Lord Lansdowne with some criticisms in which Stephen and I had agreed. It is a very bungling piece of work, and one which Lord Lansdowne ought not to consent to, the object evidently being to make a Court of which Brougham shall be at the head, and to transfer to it much of the authority of the Crown, Parliament, and Privy Council; all from his ambitious and insatiable desire of personal aggrandis.e.m.e.nt. I have no doubt he is playing a deep game, and paving the way for his own accession to power, striving to obtain popularity and influence with the King; that he will succeed to a great degree, and for a certain time, is probable. Manners Sutton is to be again Speaker. Althorp wrote him a very flummery letter, and he accepted. The Government wants to be out of the sc.r.a.pe they are in between Abercromby and Littleton, and Sutton wants his peerage. Everything seems prosperous here; the Government is strong, the House of Commons is thought respectable on the whole and safe, trade is brisk, funds rising, money plentiful, confidence reviving, Tories sulky.

January 17th, 1833 {p.343}

The Government don't know what to do about the embargo on the Dutch ships. Soon after they had laid it on they made a second order allowing ships with perishable goods to go free; and thinking the whole thing would be soon over, they desired this might be construed indulgently, and accordingly many ships were suffered to pa.s.s (with goods more or less perishing) under that order. Now that the King of Holland continues obstinate they want to squeeze him, and to construe the order strictly. There have been many consultations what to do, whether they should make another order rescinding the last or execute the former more strictly. Both are liable to objections. The first will appear like a cruel proceeding and evidence of uncertainty of purpose; the last will show a capricious variation in the practice of the Privy Council, with which the matter rests. Their wise heads were to be put together last night to settle this knotty point.

Wharncliffe showed me a paper he has written, in which, after briefly recapitulating the present state of the Tory party and the condition of the new Parliament (particularly as to the mode in which it was elected, or rather under what influence), he proceeds to point out what ought to be the course for the Tories to adopt. It is moderate and becoming enough, and he has imparted it to the Duke of Wellington, who concurs in his view. I wonder, however, that he is not sick of writing papers and imparting views, after all that pa.s.sed last year, after his fruitless attempts, his false moves, and the treatment he received at the hands of the Tories; but he seems to have forgotten or forgiven everything, and is disposed to wriggle himself back amongst the party upon any terms. He acknowledges one thing fully, and that is the desperate and woebegone condition of the party itself, and the impossibility of their doing anything _now_ as a party.

Lord Lansdowne received very complacently my criticisms on Brougham's Bill, and has acknowledged since he came to town that it would not do at all as it now stands. The King has been delighting the Whigs, and making himself more ridiculous and contemptible by the most extravagant civilities to the new Peers--that is, _to_ Western and about Lord Stafford. He now appears to be very fond of his Ministers.

January 19th, 1833 {p.344}

I have at last succeeded in stimulating Lord Lansdowne to something like resistance (or rather the promise of it) to Brougham's Bill. I have proved to him that his dignity and his interest will both be compromised by this Bill, which intends to make the Chancellor President of the Court, and _ergo_ of the Council, and to give him all the patronage there will be. Against these proposals he kicks; at least he is restive, and shows symptoms of kicking, though he will very likely be still again. I sent the Bill to Stephen, who instantly and _currente calamo_ drew up a series of objections to it, as comprehensive and acute as all his productions are, and last night I sent it to Leach (who hates the Chancellor), and he has returned it to me with a strong condemnatory reply. Stephen having told me that Howick would be too happy to oppose this Bill, on account of the influence it would have on Colonial matters, particularly about Canada, I took it to him, but he declined interfering, though he concurred in Stephen's remarks.

January 22nd, 1833 {p.344}

[Page Head: VISIT TO HARTWELL.]

Dined with Talleyrand the day before yesterday. n.o.body there but his _attaches_. After dinner he told me about his first residence in England, and his acquaintance with Fox and Pitt. He always talks in a kind of affectionate tone about the former, and is now meditating a visit to Mrs. Fox at St. Anne's Hill, where he may see her surrounded with the busts, pictures, and recollections of her husband. He delights to dwell on the simplicity, gaiety, childishness, and profoundness of Fox. I asked him if he had ever known Pitt. He said that Pitt came to Rheims to learn French, and he was there at the same time on a visit to the Archbishop, his uncle (whom I remember at Hartwell,[5] a very old prelate with the tic-douloureux), and that he and Pitt lived together for nearly six weeks, reciprocally teaching each other French and English. After Chauvelin had superseded him, and that he and Chauvelin had disagreed, he went to live near Epsom (at Juniper Hall) with Madame de Stael; afterwards they came to London, and in the meantime Pitt had got into the hands of the _emigres_, who persuaded him to send Talleyrand away, and accordingly he received orders to quit England in twenty-four hours. He embarked on board a vessel for America, but was detained in the river off Greenwich. Dundas sent to him, and asked him to come and stay with him while the ship was detained, but he said he would not set his foot on English ground again, and remained three weeks on board the ship in the river. It is strange to hear M. de Talleyrand talk at seventy-eight. He opens the stores of his memory and pours forth a stream on any subject connected with his past life. Nothing seems to have escaped from that great treasury of bygone events.

[5] [Mr. Greville had paid a visit with his father to the little Court of Louis XVIII. at Hartwell about two years before the Restoration, when he was eighteen years of age. His narrative of this visit has been printed in the fifth volume of the 'Miscellany of the Philobiblon Society,' but it may not be inappropriately inserted here.]

A VISIT TO HARTWELL.

April 14th, 1814.

I have often determined to commit to paper as much as I can remember of my visit to Hartwell; and, as the King is about to ascend the throne of his ancestors, it is not uninteresting to recall to mind the particulars of a visit paid to him while in exile and in poverty.

About two years ago my father and I went to Hartwell by invitation of the King. We dressed at Aylesbury, and proceeded to Hartwell in the afternoon.

We had previously taken a walk in the environs of the town, and had met the d.u.c.h.esse d'Angouleme on horseback, accompanied by a Madame Choisi. At five o'clock we set out to Hartwell. The house is large, but in a dreary, disagreeable situation. The King had completely altered the interior, having subdivided almost all the apartments in order to lodge a greater number of people. There were numerous outhouses, in some of which small shops had been established by the servants, interspersed with gardens, so that the place resembled a little town.

Upon entering the house we were conducted by the Duc de Grammont into the King's private apartment. He received us most graciously and shook hands with both of us. This apartment was exceedingly small, hardly larger than a closet, and I remarked pictures of the late King and Queen, Madame Elizabeth, and the Dauphin, Louis XVII., hanging on the walls. The King had a manner of swinging his body backwards and forwards, which caused the most unpleasant sensations in that small room, and made my father feel something like being sea-sick. The room was just like a cabin, and the motions of his Majesty exactly resembled the heaving of a ship. After our audience with the King we were taken to the _salon_ a large room with a billiard table at one end. Here the party a.s.sembled before dinner, to all of whom we were presented--the d.u.c.h.esse d'Angouleme, Monsieur the Duc d'Angouleme, the Duc de Berri, the Prince and Princess de Conde (_ci-devant_ Madame de Monaco), and a vast number of ducs, &c.; Madame la d.u.c.h.esse de Serron (a little old _dame d'honneur_ to Madame d'Angouleme), the Duc de Lorges, the Duc d'Auray, the Archeveque de Rheims (an infirm old prelate, tortured with the tic-douloureux), and many others whose names I cannot remember. At a little after six dinner was announced, when we went into the next room, the King walking out first. The dinner was extremely plain, consisting of very few dishes, and no wines except port and sherry. His Majesty did the honours himself, and was very civil and agreeable. We were a very short time at table, and the ladies and gentlemen all got up together. Each of the ladies folded up her napkin, tied it round with a bit of ribbon, and carried it away. After dinner we returned to the drawing-room and drank coffee. The whole party remained in conversation about a quarter of an hour, when the King retired to his closet, upon which all repaired to their separate apartments. Whenever the King came in or went out of the room, Madame d'Angouleme made him a low curtsy, which he returned by bowing and kissing his hand. This little ceremony never failed to take place. After the party had separated we were taken to the Duc de Grammont's apartments, where we drank tea. After remaining there about three quarters of an hour we went to the apartment of Madame d'Angouleme, where a great part of the company were a.s.sembled, and where we stayed about a quarter of an hour. After this we descended again to the drawing-room, where several card tables were laid out. The King played at whist with the Prince and Princess de Conde and my father. His Majesty settled the points of the game at 'le quart d'un sheling.' The rest of the party played at billiards or ombre. The King was so civil as to invite us to sleep there, instead of returning to the inn at Aylesbury. When he invited us he said, 'Je crains que vous serez tres-mal loges, mais on donne ce qu'on peut.' Soon after eleven the King retired, when we separated for the night. We were certainly 'tres-mal loges.' In the morning when I got out of bed, I was alarmed by the appearance of an old woman on the leads before my window, who was hanging linen to dry. I was forced to retreat hastily to bed, not to shock the old lady's modesty. At ten the next morning we breakfasted, and at eleven we took leave of the King (who always went to Ma.s.s at that hour) and returned to London. We saw the whole place before we came away; and they certainly had shown great ingenuity in contriving to lodge such a number of people in and about the house--it was exactly like a small rising colony. We were very much pleased with our expedition; and were invited to return whenever we could make it convenient.

January 24th, 1833 {p.346}

I have at last made Lord Lansdowne fire a shot at the Chancellor about this Bill. He has written him a letter, in which he has embodied Stephen's objections and some of his own (as he says, for I did not see the letter). The Chancellor will be very angry, for he can't endure contradiction, and he has a prodigious contempt for the Lord President, whom he calls 'Mother Elizabeth.' He probably arrives at the sobriquet through Petty, Betty, and so on.

Dined with Talleyrand yesterday; Pozzo, who said little and seemed low; Talleyrand _talked_ after dinner, said that Cardinal Fleury was one of the greatest Ministers who ever governed France, and that justice had never been done him; he had maintained peace for twenty years, and acquired Lorraine for France. He said this _a propos_ of the library he formed or left, or whatever he did in that line, at Paris. He told me he goes very often to the British Museum, and has lately made them a present of a book.

January 26th, 1833 {p.347}

[Page Head: ABOLITION OF SLAVERY.]