“. . . There is the most infamous newspaper just set up that was ever seen in the world—by name

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John Bull. Its personal scurrility exceeds by miles anything ever written before. In accounting for the motives which have influenced the different ladies who have called upon the Queen, it states yesterday without equivocation, reserve, or by any inuendo, but plainly, that Lady T—— and Lady M—— B—— were induced to go by threats respecting the criminal intercourse that took place between Lady C—— W—— and a menial servant. You will not be surprised that O—— is furious.* . . .”

“. . . I dined at Taylor’s on Monday, and in the evening came Ferguson, Bennet, Mrs. G. Lambe, Lord Auckland and Brougham. The latter exceeds in oddity and queerness anything I ever beheld. What the devil he is at I cannot for the life of me make out. He is all for moderation, and his constant fellow-counsellors are Tierney, Scarlett† and Abercromby. I favored him with my fixed determination how I should act, and if you had heard him try to humbug me about the transitory nature of this popular ferment, comparing it to the Duke of York’s case and Mrs. Clarke, you would have snorted out in his face. Yesterday, however, brought me a note from him, and to-day another to dine with him, and I am going accordingly. . . .”

“. . . I dined with Brougham on Wednesday, but had not much good of him, as we were not alone. . . . I looked into Brooks’s afterwards, and found Scarlett there. He was as pompous as be damned about publick affairs—change of Ministers—meeting of Parliament, &c., till I frightened him out of his wits by announcing to him the certainty of an opposition and division on Tuesday next.

“Yesterday I met Brougham in the streets, and had a long walk with him, and found him much improved in temper—all sunshine, in fact. He says he never saw any one so improved as the Queen; that she really is very entertaining, particularly upon the

* The names indicated by initials, here and elsewhere, are given in full in the original. † Created Lord Abinger in 1835.

1821.]

THE QUEEN’S ESTABLISHMENT.

3

subject of her travels. He is to manage a dinner for me there at an early date, and at her early hour, which is 3. . . . Meantime, her establishment is on the stocks and is getting on—the Duke of Roxburgh Grand Chamberlain, a young nobleman of 86, so that the breath of scandal can never touch this appointment. He is, however, a very excellent old man, and a Whig, and is worth at least £50,000 per ann. Poor Romilly gained him his estate, and had the highest possible opinion of him. The poor old fellow declined at first, and indeed now has consented with reluctance. I saw his letter to Brougham yesterday upon this subject, which was quite as good as any play. It seems he married for the first time 5 or 6 years ago, and has children. He asks Brougham, therefore, if her Majesty is fond of children, and if he may bring his little ones from Scotland to present to her; and then he says he will only undertake the office of Chamberlain upon condition that he (Brougham) will be guardian to the Marquis of Beaumont, aged 4 years and a half—the Duke’s son. This condition, however, is a secret. Bruffam affected to be squeamish as to accepting this trust, but the job is done. Lord Hood is to be another of the Queen’s household; a Countess of Roscommon (Irish) is mentioned as one of the female staff; Lady Charlotte Lindsay, &c., &c. Pray read Lord Holland’s letter to the Wiltshire meeting; is not his anxiety for the Queen quite affecting, after all one knows of my lady’s virtuous indignation against her? . . . I dined with Mrs. Taylor yesterday—Taylor and Miss Ferguson being engaged at Coutts’s to celebrate his wedding day. They returned in the evening; Miss Ferguson, from her appearance, might have been in a hot bath. They sat down to dinner 30: old Coutts and his bride sitting side by side at the top of the table. The Dukes of York, Clarence and Sussex were there; at side-tables were placed musicians and songsters; one of the latter fraternity from Bath was paid £100 for his trip.”

“. . . Sefton and I are going at 12 in his cabriolet towards Brandenburgh House, to see the addressers and processions to the Queen. Meantime the streets

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are chuck full of people, quite as much as four months ago.

“Lord Holland came up to me at Brooks’s yesterday, and reproached me for never coming near my lady; and, after many civil things in his pretty manner, he said I should go and see her with him. So I did, and she was all civility and humility. At parting, she begg’d I would look in upon her in the evening, and I found afterwards she had written to Lord Sefton in the morning, begging he would accomplish this great point with me. . . .

“Apropos of Tierney, a funny thing happened about him some time ago at Cashiobury. Decaze and Tierney being both dining there, Decaze said—‘If the Opposition came in, what would they do with Napoleon?—Upon which says old Cole* in her way—‘Why, put him on the throne of France, to be sure!’ Which sentiment was sent off by a special courier to old Louis le desiré the instant Decaze returned from dinner. Old Louis forwarded the frightful intelligence to Troppau, where the Emperor Alexander has made the regular complaint and remonstrance to Gordon, our Minister there, who has returned it duly to the Foreign Office. The most comical thing is the different ways in which Castlereagh and Tierney take it. The former has sent the latter a funny message, saying he wishes he would have no more jokes with Decaze about Buonaparte, for that he has played the devil at Troppau. But old Cole is frightened out of her wits, and talks of nothing else—is apprehensive the country gentlemen will be out with it in the House of Commons, and that it may do the party a serious injury. She and Decaze had a meeting yesterday, and the latter has agreed if necessary to depose on oath that he believes Tierney’s observation was only made in joke.

“Holland set off at four this morning for Oxford, to help Lord Jersey at his county meeting.† It was with the greatest difficulty my lady let him go, and he begged me not to mention it before her, as it was a very sore subject.”

“Late as it is (being precisely one according to the watchman) I must have a word with you before I go to bed. I dined, as you know, at Sefton’s with Brougham, and at ½ past nine they both pressed me to go to Burlington House, which (tho’ I had been summoned by the circular note) I declined. Before they went, however, I pressed upon Brougham the absolute necessity of having a vigorous discussion, if not division, upon the outrage offered to the H. of Commons by the last prorogation without a speech from the throne under all the extraordinary circumstances of the case. I pointed out to him how the thing ought to be done before the King’s Speech was entered upon, and finally told him, if the meeting at Burlington House did not take this line, Folkestone and Western most likely would. It is impossible to convey to you a notion of his artificial, disingenuous jaw upon this subject, evidently shewing that he was for nothing being done. And so off they went, and I to Brooks’s, where I met Folkestone, who says he will take his line, and Western will support him.

“About ½ past eleven the party came in, having done (as it appears to me) as much mischief as they could in so short a time. Nothing to be done tomorrow, and Tavistock to move on Friday a censure upon Ministers—in other words, a motion to turn them out, and to supply their places with our own people—the only motion to do the Ministers the least service, as I think, under all their great difficulties. This is the more provoking, because Tavistock, from the same motive with myself, did not attend this meeting, and yet had yielded to the views of some one in letting a notice of this motion be given for him. Was there ever anything like the inveterate folly of this Cole in pursuit of her maze? . . .”

“. . . As to Folkestone’s intended proceedings yesterday, they were knocked on the head by the discovery of one precedent in the late King’s time, in which a Parliament had been prorogued without a Speech, and by the thanks given in yesterday’s Speech for the supplies of last year. . . .”

“Nothing to-day, excepting Wellington’s scrape last night in calling public meetings ‘a farce.’* Was there ever such a goose to get into such a mess? He was pummelled black and blue by Carnarvon, Lansdowne and Holland, and had not only to apologise himself, but to get Liverpool to do the same for him. . . . You never saw a fellow so vicious as Grey, but all cordiality and good fellowship between him and me.

“Pray tell me how I am to act upon a point of form. I am invited to dine on Sunday week both by the Duke of Sussex and the Speaker, and both are considered as commands. . . .”

“. . . Saturday I dined at the Fox Club—about 100 of us, Grandees and Tiers-etat united. We are getting very much into the Reform line, I assure you. The Duke of Devonshire has declared for Reform: Slice† of Gloucester at Holkham ten days ago with royal solemnity declared himself a Radical. Yesterday I dined at the Duke of Sussex’s, having contrived through Stevenson to change my day from next Sunday. Lord Thanet took me, and our party were the Dukes of Gloucester and Leinster, Lord Fitzwilliam, Thanet, Grey, Erskine, Cowper, Albemarle, Bob Adair and myself. We had an agreeable day enough. Slice kept us waiting three-quarters of an hour, but this time was not thrown away. Sussex told us in confidence, that the obstacle to the Queen’s name being restored to the Prayer Book did not come from the King, but that he could not tell us

* The Duke, being taken to task in the House of Lords for having, as Lord-Lieutenant of Hampshire, refused to convene a county meeting to protest against the proceedings in the matter of the royal divorce, replied with characteristic, but injudicious, bluntness that, having already presented a petition in favour of the Queen signed by 9000 persons in that county, he did not see what good purpose could be served by “going through the farce of a county meeting.” It was an unlucky expression, and was brought up against him on numerous occasions for many years. † H.R.H. the Duke of Gloucester.

1821.]

THE PRETENDED OLIVIA.

7

more; and even for this valuable communication he desired not to be quoted. I was surprised to hear Lord Grey say that he knew this to be true.

“Then Sussex entertained us with stories of his cousin Olivia of Cumberland, with whom, for fun’s sake, as he says, he has had various interviews, during which she has always pressed upon him, in support of her claims, her remarkable likeness to the Royal Family. Upon one occasion, being rather off her guard from temper or liquor, she smacked off her wig all at once, and said—‘Why, did you ever in your life see such a likeness to yourself?’ It seems that she lived in the capacity of Pop Lolly to Lord Warwick for many of the latter years of her life, and it is from some papers of his, and with the assistance of others, that she has at length started into the royal line.*

“Grey and Lambton and Lady Louisa had been all at Brandenburg House yesterday morning; and my lord’s name was scarcely written by him, before the news flew like wildfire to the Queen, and he was told she begged to see him. So in he and Lambton went, and she seemed to be very much pleased, and so was he. So it’s all very well—better late than never. . . .

“I have two more Royalties to give you, and then I have done with the family. At the Levée on Friday, the King turned his back upon Prince Leopold in the most pointed manner; upon which the said Leopold, without any alteration on a muscle of his face, walked up to the Duke of York, and in hearing of every one near him said—‘The King has thought proper at last to take his line, and I shall take mine’—and so, with becoming German dignity, marched out of the house.

“You will be affected to hear that the dear Duchess of Gloucester is not happy, and that, tho’ Slice is in politicks a Radical, in domestic life he is a tyrant. Some lady called on the Duchess (indeed it has happened to two different ladies), and, being admitted, was marched up quite to the top of the house; where, being arrived out of breath, the Duchess apologised with great feeling for the trouble

* See vol. i. p. 339, note.

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she caused her in bringing her up so far, but that in truth it was owing to the cruel manner in which she was treated by the Duke—that he had taken it into his head that the suite of rooms on the drawing-room floor were not kept in sufficiently nice order, and on that account he had them locked up, and kept the keys himself. . . . It is no wonder that the King treated Slice the last time he was at Court with the same sauce he did Leopold. The Radical has declared he will never go again.

“Before dinner, we had some conversation upon the old story whether Francis was Junius, Grey and Erskine both expressing their most perfect conviction that he was. Erskine mentioned a curious thing, which was confirmed by Lord Thanet. It seems they were both dining with Lady Francis, since Sir Philip’s death, when Erskine asked her if Francis ever told her, or whether she ever collected from his conversation, that he was the author of Junius. To which she answered that he had never mentioned the subject, and that the only allusion to it was in a book. So she went out of the room, and brought back the little book ‘Junius Identified,’ and in the title page was written ‘Francis,’ and, signed with his name—‘I leave this book as a legacy to my dear wife.’ This I think, considering he never would touch the subject or the book of ‘Junius Identified,’ affords an additional strong presumption it was he.

“Erskine was to the last degree ridiculous at dinner. Upon Warren’s name being mentioned, he said he certainly could not be called a ‘free Warren,’ and then added—‘indeed rabbits were hole-and-corner men, and who could say they were not?’

“Upon some objections being taken to Erskine’s wig at dinner, he said it had been made for Coutts, and that Mrs. Coutts had been kind enough to give it to him; and then he pulled it off, when, to all our great surprise, tho’ bald, he looked so beautiful and young he might have been 35 or 40 years of age at most.* He was so impressed with our compliments that he has promised to abandon wigs altogether when warm weather comes.

1821.]

LADY HOLLAND AT HOME.

9

“Slice, who I had never met before, and who, you know, is a proverbial bore, behaved very well and modestly, which of course was owing to his being only second fiddle; but I assure you the two cousins made a very good exhibition of Royalty, both in propriety and agreeableness.

“Thanet brought me back—first to Lady Jersey’s, but she was not ready to receive her company, so we came to Brooks’s. Then Cowper took me to Lady Holland’s, where her ladyship looked as forlorn and discontented as ever she could look. She was in state, with Henry* at her feet—few men—no ladies, and the whole concern to the greatest degree sombre. Her great aversion at present is Lady Jersey, as taking her company from her, which I don’t wonder at, as Cowper and I soon went there, and found a very merry party, cracking their jokes about a round table. Lady Jersey herself is a host, and then there were Brougham, Grey, Lambton, Lord Jersey, Duncannon, Lord and Lady Ossulston, Lady Sefton, Lord A. Hamilton, Cowper and myself: so it was all very well. My lady was all ‘mug’ to me about my farce on Friday,† and at parting desired me to lose no time in firing into them again.

“It has given me great pleasure to see Sir Lowry Cole’s name stand next to mine in the list of the division. To some one who talked to him whilst we were dividing, he said he never had but one opinion as to the impropriety of striking the Queen’s name out of the Liturgy, and he was glad the time was come when he could express his opinion by his vote. Upon my word, the gentlemanly conduct of these soldiers—Lord Howard and Sir Lowry Cole—both dependent to a great degree upon the Crown, is quite touching. They leave your independent squires a hundred miles behind them. . . . Of publick affairs

* Lord Holland. † A speech on going into Committee of Supply, of which Creevey says in another letter—“This little sortie was, I assure you, rather well done, and eminently useful in a very crowded House. ‘Mouldy’ [Mr. Vansittart, Chancellor of the Exchequer, afterwards Lord Bexley] made an attempt to punish me, but was instantly smothered in universal derision.”

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there is nothing new. If the people keep up their feelings, and the expression of them as strongly as ever, on the subject of the Queen’s exclusion from the Liturgy, the Government and their followers are no better off, and in truth much worse than before they waded so triumphantly thro’ the dirt on Friday. I keep to my creed that this blackguard, foolish war with the Queen will eventually ruin the Ministers and produce some great change in the House of Commons.”

“. . . I dined at Sefton’s yesterday—Lord Grey, Lady Louisa and Lambton and Mr. and Mrs. Bruffham. . . . Grey is so keen with me about giving Brother Bragge* a dust about accepting his office and not vacating his seat, that I must, I believe, accommodate him. . . . When, at dinner, I described old Cole’s attempt at crimping me into the Doctor’s camp† in 1803, assisted by those distinguished statesmen Porter and Brogden, he grinned most profusely, saying—‘God forgive me! as Lord King says, but I can’t help liking him.’”

“. . . I have just discharged my duty to my native town [Liverpool] in seconding their petition. I rather think I never did anything so well. I spoke for about 20 minutes; the House was as mute as mice, and Castlereagh as grave as a judge at all I said. After dwelling upon the villainy of Castlereagh’s new law of a 3rd reading of a Bill of Pains and Penalties in the Lords making a moral conviction of the defendant, coupled with all the enormous abuse that was nightly discharged upon her by his friends, I stated the utter impossibility of her taking the money from Castlereagh and his House. . . .”

“. . . On Sunday morning our grandees, or some of them, had a meeting upstairs here to consider the practicability of making a provision for the Queen by raising from £200,000 to £300,000 by subscription. You will easily imagine I had no business there,* but Sefton and Lord Thanet sent Lambton to bring me there by force, so I heard what passed, and such a game chicken as Fitzwilliam I never beheld. Let me do justice, too, to Alec Baring, who smoothed away the least suggestion of any difficulty; and, in short, it was decided in two minutes to do the thing.

* Seeing that he was such a poor man.

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Old Fitzwilliam went off directly to the Duke of Devonshire, who is quite as eager to start as the rest, provided it is not done till the H. of Commons shall have decided this day week, on Smith’s motion, not to restore the Queen’s name to the Liturgy. Then a kind of State paper is to come out from our people, shewing the absolute impossibility of the Queen, situated as she is, accepting the provision from the Crown and Parliament, and proposing their plan, with the names annexed to it, of making a voluntary provision; and no one seems to entertain a doubt of the success of the measure. . . .

“Never was there such an exhibition as that of yesterday by the defenders of the Ministers. Brother Bragge could scarcely be heard, in which he was highly judicious; Bankes might have been hired for Mackintosh to flog; Peel was as feeble as be damned, and the daring, dramatic Horace Twiss made his first, and probably his last appearance on the stage.* On the other hand, I am sorry to say that Tavistock was infinitely below himself. . . . Lambton’s was a very pretty, natural and ornamental speech, delivered with singular grace and discretion, and a beautiful voice withal. But old ‘Praise God’ Milton in a short speech handled a couple of points in a much more powerful manner than anything Lambton did. . . . Nothing but the general and overpowering distress can keep the country steady to the Queen against the Court Ministers. . . . It is said that the appointment of Sir Lowry Cole to be governor of Sheerness was made out, and immediately cancelled after his vote on Friday, and that it is now given to Lord Combermere.† . . .”

“. . . I confess I had no notion such a majority could have been found to give a direct negative to the allegation that the late proceedings had been ‘derogatory from the dignity of the Crown and injurious to the best wishes of the People.’ . . . The last half of Brougham’s speech was quite inimitable. He made the declaration he formerly told me he would, as to his perfect conviction of the Queen’s innocence, and he did it in a manner so solemn, and, if I may say so, so magnificent, that it was met with the loudest and almost universal cheers.”

“. . . I was at Brougham’s by half-past two, and found Craven waiting. As soon as Brougham was ready, we set off to pick up Mrs. Damer, who was to dine also with the Queen. And here let me stop to express my admiration for this extraordinary person. You know she is Field Marshal Conway’s daughter, cousin of Lord Hertford, &c., &c. She is the person who paid all her husband’s debts, without the least obligation upon her so to do, and she is the person who renounced all claim to half of Lord Clinton’s estate when she was informed that by law she was entitled to it. She is 70 years of age, and as fresh as if she was 50. . . . Well—when we reached Brandenburg House, we were ushered up a very indifferent staircase and through an ante-room into a very handsome, well-proportioned room from 40 to 50 feet long, very lofty, with a fine coved ceiling, painted with gods and goddesses in their very best clothes. The room looks upon the Thames, and is not a hundred yards from it. Upon our entrance, the Queen came directly to Mrs. Damer, then to Brougham, and then to me. I am not sure whether I did not commit the outrage of putting out my hand without her doing the same first; be it as it may, however, we did shake hands. She then asked me if I had not forgotten her, and I can’t help thinking she considered my visit as somewhat late, or otherwise she would have said something civil about my uniform support. She is

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not much altered in face or figure, but very much in manner. She is much more stately and much more agreeable. She was occasionally very grave. . . . She took me aside twice after dinner, and talked to me of her situation. She is evidently uneasy about money. . . . She mentioned no women, but the Duke of Wellington did not escape an observation from her, as to the surprise it occasioned in her that he should be so violent against her. . . . A curious thing happened at dinner. . . . Craven, who turns out to be a wag, with all his propriety, was alluding to that celebrated ball or fête where the Queen was the Genius of History. It seems the whole of this fête was got up by a Duke of Caparo; every character was prescribed by him, and both the Queen and Craven laughed heartily at the recollection that, the Genius of History being to enter preceded by Fame, when the time for their appearance arrived, Fame’s trumpet could not be found, and the performance was stopped for some time, till Fame was obliged to put up with a horn of one of the Duke of Caparo’s keepers. . . .

“Our company of ladies was Mme. Olde and Mme. Felice. . . . Mme. Felice is a very, very little woman, with one of the prettiest faces I ever saw. I should think she was not much older than 20, though she has been married 5 years. As we went down to dinner, Craven handed the Queen, Brougham Mrs. Damer; Mme. Felice, who was leaning on the arm of a foreigner, seeing me unprovided for came in the most natural, laughing manner, and put her arm thro’ mine. . . . Of men, the principal was the Marquis of Antalda, a great proprietor in Pessaro and Bologna . . . a person of great consideration in his own country, a man of letters, and as agreeable a man as you will find anywhere. . . . There might be six or seven other men, and nothing could be more decorous or more courtlike than they all were in their manner to the Queen. . . . We came away before eight. . . . There is a capital picture by Hoppner of Berkeley and Keppel Craven. The only picture belonging to her Majesty is one of Alderman Wood without a frame.”

“. . . Our folks are to meet presently about the Queen’s subscription. Unfortunately Fitzwilliam is out of town, but Milton is now by my side.”

“. . . You never saw such a change in any person as in Brougham. He is involved in the deepest thought, and apparently chagrin. He never comes near Sefton, as was his daily custom, nor can we conjecture what he is about. I think his false step about the Queen in advising her to refuse the money must surely have something to do with it. He seems most wretched. Grey and Lambton and Lady Louisa, &c., &c., are to dine with the Queen to-morrow. . . .”

“. . . The Queen has bought Cambridge House in South Audley Street. . . . Thanet and Sefton advanced the deposit money, £3000, this morning. I am afraid you don’t see the Times, otherwise you would read in it Holland’s apology for having said in his speech in the House of Lords that the Emperor of Russia was concern’d in his father’s death. Lady Holland has never slept since; Madame Lieven declines all further intercourse with the Hollands, and, in short, the contemptible statement in the Times, tho’ anonymous, is from Holland himself, and made as his peace offering to the Emperor of all the Russias,* the Lievens and the Princess of Madagascar.”†

“This town is in a state of general lunacy beginning most certainly with the Illustrious Person on the throne. Geo. 3. was an ill used man to be shut up for 10 years. His son has slept none, I believe, since you left town; nor will, till it is over. Yesterday he went for near 3 hours to Buckingham House, where Lawrence was painting Lady Conynghame. He then came back and had another row with his ministers, having been all Saturday and half of Sunday in a squabble with them; and, soon after he was housed, there drove along the Mall furiously a carriage and four, which was followed by my informant and found to contain old Wellesley in person. He was actually traced into Carlton House by the back door. You may make what you please of this,* but the fact is undoubted, as Duncannon and Calcraft were the persons who saw him.

“To-day the Q.’s being allowed to enter the Abbey is doubted . . . but I still think it possible the Big Man may have gout and not be up to it.†

“. . . The paroxysm rather encreases than diminishes, and literally extends to all classes. There never was a more humbling sight in this world. The Ministers are still sitting and squabbling; nor have they to this hour (5) made up their minds whether to stop her or not. My belief is they will let her pass, and also admit her at the Abbey if she persists. She is quite resolved to do so, and comes to sleep at Cambridge House for the purpose. But she is sure to blunder about the hour, and to give them excuses for turning

* The inference was that the Cabinet was jibbing about the Queen’s exclusion, and that the King contemplated laying his commands on Wellesley to form an administration. † The Coronation.

1821.]

THE QUEEN EXCLUDED FROM THE ABBEY.

17

her back by being late. . . . We [Brougham and Denman] thought at one time she meant to command our attendance, which we had resolved, of course, to refuse, as no more in our department than going to Astley’s; but she did not venture. She has turned off the poor Chaplain Fellowes, who wrote all the balderdash answers, to make room for Wood’s son; but the Alderman has failed in an attempt to turn off Hieronymus, the Major-domo, in order to put some friend of his in the place. Dr. Parr has written a vehement letter to advise against her going, and certainly this is the prevailing opinion among her friends. I suppose I must be wrong, but I still cannot see it in the same light; and of this I am quite sure, that she would have been quite as much blamed had she stayed away. It is also certain that nothing short of a quarrel and resigning would have stopped her: perhaps not even that; . . . but to take such a step, one ought to have been much more positive against the measure than I have ever been from the first.”

“The Qn. (as I found on going to her house at 20 minutes before six this morning) started at a quarter past five, and drove down Constitution Hill in the mulberry—Lady A[nne] H[amilton] and Lady Hood sitting opposite. Hesse (in uniform) and Lord H[ood] in another carriage went before. I followed on foot and found she had swept the crowd after her: it was very great, even at that hour. She passed thro’ Storey’s Gate, and then round Dean’s Yard, where she was separated from the crowd by the gates being closed. The refusal was peremptory at all the doors of the Abbey when she tried, and one was banged in her face. . . . She was saluted by all the soldiery, and even the people in the seats, who had paid 10 and 5 guineas down, and might be expected to hiss most at the untimely interruption, hissed very little and applauded loudly in most places. In some they were silent, but the applause and waving handkerchiefs prevailed. I speak from hearsay of various persons of different parties, having been obliged to leave

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it speedily, being recognised and threatened with honors.

“About ½ past six [a.m.] she had finished her walks and calls at the doors, and got into the carriage to return. She came by Whitehall, Pall Mall and Piccadilly. The crowd in the Broad Street of Whitehall was immense (the barriers being across Parlt. St. and King St.). All, or nearly all followed her and risked losing their places. They crammed Cockspur Street and Pall Mall, &c., hooting and cursing the King and his friends, and huzzaing her. A vast multitude followed her home, and then broke windows. But they soon (in two or three hours) dispersed or went back.

“I had just got home and she sent for me, so I went and breakfasted with her, and am now going to dine, which makes me break off; but I must add that the King was not well received at all—silence in many places, and a mixture of hisses and groans in others. However, there were some bounds kept with him. For Wood and Waithman—a division of hissing and shouting—for the Atty. and Solr. Gen. an unmixed hissing of the loudest kind. This verdict is really of some moment, when you consider that the jury was very much a special, if not a packed, one. The general feeling, even of her own partisans, was very much agt. her going; but far more agt. their behaviour to her. I still can’t see it in that light; and as she will go quietly back to B[randenburg] House,* avoiding all mob most carefully, she gains more than she loses, and I think her very lucky in being excluded. They put it on not being at liberty to recognise her or any one, except as ticket-bearers. Lord H[ood] shewed me one which they said of course would pass any one of the party, but she refused to go in except as Q. and without a ticket. The one Lord H. shewed me was the Beau’s,† and I have it as a memorial of the business. . . .”

“The Queen certainly goes to Scotland. . . . I should not wonder if she were to go thro’ the manufacturing districts. Possibly Birmingham (where the K. refused to go) may be in her way. It is on the cards that she should be found in the W. Riding and in Lancashire. For aught I know H. M. may then pass across towards Durham and Newcastle. Indeed the great towns are peculiarly interesting to a person of her contemplative cast. One whose mind is improved by foreign travel naturally loves tracts of country where the population is much crowded, and it is worthy of H. M.’s enlightened mind to patronise the ingenuous artizan. The coal trade, too, is highly interesting. I only hope she may not call at Howick on her way. . . . The time of her setting out is not fixed, depending naturally upon her beloved husband’s motions. . . . The Chamberlain’s place is not yet given away. The Ministers are believed to have resolved to bear this no longer, and to have agreed on a remonstrance to the K. about the Green Ribbons.† He will, of course, say something civil that means little—make some promise that means less—let them name to one place, name to the other himself—and so settle matters as to enable him to go over to Ireland. . . . The Queen

* Michael Angelo Taylor’s place in Yorkshire. † The King had been creating Knights of the Thistle without taking the advice of his Ministers.

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has lost incalculably by getting out of her carriage and tramping about; going and being refused, and damaging the Coronation, was all very well, but the way of doing it was very bad. . . .”

“The Chamberlain not yet given away, and there seems an idea of Wellesley. I heartily wish the present state of squabble between the K. and his Ministers was over, and he and Ly. C[onyngham] no longer civil to the Whigs. There is no chance of its bringing about any change, but the risk is frightful—I mean of any change operated by such means. His dining with the Beau* to-morrow, and the whole Ministers dining with him [the King] to-day, looks like matters being settled between them. At the Levee yesterday he was particularly rude to Hesse; so was he to the Lord Mayor at the Coronation. . . . I have not seen her [the Queen], but I shall to-night, and certainly shall throw cold water on the northern expedition. . . .

“. . . Her Majesty has commanded me to say she intends visiting Scotland, but I have not as yet heard the time fixed. . . .”

“. . . Brougham was here for a very short time on Sunday night, having left London at six on Saturday evening, travelled all night, and being obliged to go to York that night (40 miles), so as to be ready for the assizes in the morning. . . . As to his Royal

* The Duke of Wellington.

1821.]

THE QUEEN’S DEATH.

21

Mistress, his account was most curious. On Friday last she lost sixty-four ounces of blood; took first of all 15 grains of calomel, which they think she threw up again in the whole or in part; and then she took 40 grains more of calomel which she kept entirely in her stomach; add to this a quantity of castor oil that would have turned the stomach of a horse. Nevertheless, on Friday night the inflammation had subsided, tho’ not the obstruction on the liver.

“Her will and certain deeds had been got all ready by Friday night according to her own instructions. Brougham asked her if it was her pleasure then to execute them; to which she said—‘Yes, Mr. Brougham; where is Mr. Denman?’ in the tone of voice of a person in perfect health. Denman then opened the curtain of her bed, there being likewise Lushington, Wilde and two Proctors from the Commons. The will and papers being read to her, she put her hand out of bed, and signed her name four different times in the steadiest manner possible. In doing so she said with great firmness—‘I am going to die, Mr. Brougham; but it does not signify.’—Brougham said—‘Your Majesty’s physicians are quite of a different opinion.’—‘Ah,’ she said, ‘I know better than them. I tell you I shall die, but I don’t mind it.’ . . .”

“. . . The melancholy event took place at 25 minutes past 10 o’clock last night, when our dear Queen breathed her last. Her Majesty has quitted a scene of uninterrupted persecution, and for herself I think her death is not to be regretted. . . . She died in peace with all her enemies. Je ne mourrai sans douleur, mais je mourrai sans regret—was frequently expressed by her Majesty. I never beheld a firmer mind, or any one with less feelings at the thought of dying, which she spoke of without the least agitation, and at different periods of her illness, even to very few hours of her dissolution, arranged her worldly concerns. . . .”

“. . . Lushington and myself this morning saw Lord Liverpool and gave copies of the will and codicils. Government take charge of the funeral, which they intend shall be a private one. Lord Liverpool referred me to Lord Melville, who we saw, and he will immediately order a squadron, which will be ready in a week. The body is to be embarked at Harwich and landed at Cuxhaven. . . . Lushington is married this morning; and has left London, to return on Friday. . . .”

“. . . I arrived just before 4 on Tuesday, and the Queen immediately desired to see me. . . . Baillie soon after assured me she was dying, but that the event would not take place for some hours. I went away for a short time, and then remained in the room till death closed the scene. . . . On her death happening, Wilde and myself secured all the repositories as well as we could. This occupied us till between 2 and 3 in the morning. . . . My situation was truly painful. You know I was to be married that very morning—Wednesday. I could not, for various reasons, postpone it; so, having taken 2 hours rest, I went to Hampstead, was married, and immediately returned to town. I had, on the death taking place, sent an express to Lord Liverpool. He came to town. I saw him with Wilde. He behaved extremely well—said Government would defray the expense of the funeral, and that he issued orders from the Chamberlain’s office. He readily assented that the body should not be opened, and that the funeral should take place at Brunswick. By his desire I went over to Lord Melville, and he arranged that two frigates should be sent to Harwich and convey it to Cuxhaven. . . .”

“. . . The death of this poor woman under all its circumstances is a most striking event and gave me an infernal lump in my throat most part of Thursday. . . . Nothing in my mind could be so calculated to injure this poor woman as the extraordinary overture made by Brougham to the Government in 1819. It seems that, at his request or by his direction, the Queen came from Italy to Lyons in the autumn of that year for the sole purpose of meeting Brougham there, to consult with him upon her situation; but, forsooth, ‘he could not go—he was busy.’ This is all the excuse he makes for himself, and then he seems to think it odd she was very angry at this disappointment. He admits, likewise, that on this occasion she became very ill. So he was to have gone to her at Milan in the Easter of 1820, as you know he told me, when he asked me to go with him. . . . But he never mentioned having so lately brought the poor woman to Lyons for nothing. When I recall to mind how often, during our journey to Middleton at that time,* he spoke of the Whig candidates for office with the most sovereign contempt—how he hinted at his own intercourse with the Crown and Ministers, and conveyed to me the impression that he thought himself more likely to be sent for to make a Ministry than any one else—how clear it is that the accomplishment of this divorce was to be the ways and means by which his purposes were to be effected.† . . . There

* See vol. i. p. 295. † Mr. Creevey was not singular in his suspicion of Brougham. Writing on 12th April, 1821, J. W. Croker observes: “Brougham, it is said, grossly has sold the Queen. There is no doubt that he has withdrawn himself a good deal from her, and I believe has been for some time in underground communication with Carlton House.” Again on April 22nd: “Brougham and Denman sworn in the day before yesterday as Attorney- and Solicitor-General to the Queen. Brougham, I hear, wished to secure the profits without the inconveniences of the appointment, and offered not to assume it if Government would give him a patent of precedence, but the Chancellor refused” [The Croker Papers, i. 172-3]

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is one subject which gives me some uneasiness—in the making of her will, the Queen wished to leave some diamonds to Victorine, the child of Bergami, of whom she was so fond. This was not liked by Brougham and her other lawyers, so the bequest does not appear in the will; but the jewels are nevertheless to be conveyed to Victorine. This, you know, is most delicate matter—to be employed on her deathbed in sending her jewels from Lady Anne Hamilton and Lady Hood to Bergami’s child appears to me truly alarming. I mean, should it be known, and one is sure it will be so, for Taylor had a letter from Denison last night mentioning such a report, and being quite horrified at it. On the other hand, when I expressed the same sentiment to Brougham, he thought nothing of it. His creed is that she was a child-fancier: that Bergami’s elevation was all owing to her attachment to Victorine, and he says his conviction is strengthened every day of her entire innocence as to Bergami. This, from Brougham, is a great deal, because I think it is not going too far to say that he absolutely hated her; nor do I think her love for her Attorney General was very great.”

“I have seen Lushington and Wilde repeatedly. They are at this moment in negociation with the Govt.; or rather throwing up all concern with the funeral on account of this indecent hurry. Their ground is a clear one: they won’t take charge of it from Stade—the port in Hanover—to Brunswick without knowing that arrangements are ready to receive them. . . . The Govt., only wishing the speedy embarkation, as they avow, for the sake of not delaying the dinner at Dublin, insist on getting it on board as quick as possible, and don’t mind what happens afterwards. . . . I shall, I think, be satisfied with going to Harwich with it, and not go, as I had intended, to Brunswick.”

“. . . Here is Brougham again. He has been at Harwich, where he saw the body of the Queen embarked about 3 o’clock on Thursday; and then immediately came across the country, and, after travelling all night, got here to dinner yesterday, and proceeds to Durham to-night to join the circuit there. I wish very much I had been at Harwich: according to Brougham’s account it must have been the most touching spectacle that can be imagined—the day magnificently beautiful—the sea as smooth as glass—our officers by land and sea all full dressed—soldiers and sailors all behaving themselves with the most touching solemnity—the yards of the four ships of war all manned—the Royal Standard drooping over the coffin and the Queen’s attendants in the centre boat—every officer with his hat off the whole time—minute guns firing from the ships and shore, and thousands of people on the beach sobbing out aloud. . . . It was as it should be—and the only thing that was so during the six and twenty years’ connection of this unhappy woman with this country. . . . The Queen appointed as executors of her will Bagot,* the Minister of this country to America, and Lord Clarendon, and she left them all her papers sealed up. The other day Lord Jersey received a letter from Lord Clarendon begging him to come to him, which he did. He [Lord Clarendon] then told him that he was going as executor to open his [Lord Jersey’s] mother’s papers.† The seal was then taken off, and letters from the Monarch to his former sweetheart caught Jersey’s eye in great abundance. Lord Clarendon then proceeded to put them all in the fire, saying he had merely wished Lord Jersey to be present at their destruction, and as a witness that they had never been seen by any one. Very genteel, this, on Lord Clarendon’s part to the

* Rt. Hon. Sir Charles Bagot. † Frances, wife of the 4th Earl of Jersey. Her relations with the Prince of Wales (afterwards George IV.) were notorious. She died 25th July, 1821.

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living Monarch and memory of his mistress, but damned provoking to think that such capital materials for the instruction and improvement of men and womankind should be eternally lost! Let me add to the honor of Jersey, and indeed of his wife (for it was her money, not his), that he had raised his mother’s jointure from £1100 per ann. to £3500, and that he has paid at different times £6000 and £2000 in discharge of her debts. . . .

“And now what do you think Brougham said to me not an hour ago?—that if he had gone with the Queen’s body to Brunswick, it would have been going too far—it would have been over-acting his part; ‘it being very well known that through the whole of this business he had never been very much for the Queen!’ Now upon my soul, this is quite true, and, being so, did you ever know anything at all to equal it?

“Brougham showed me a letter he has received from Pauline,* from Italy, requiring his influence with the Government to obtain permission for her to go out to St. Helena to her brother Bonaparte. It encloses a variety of medical and other reports, stating his rapidly declining health, and that she wishes to go out to him with all possible dispatch. Apropos to this subject, Brougham and Lord Roslyn called on Wilson† one day this week, and found Bertrand and Montholon with him. . . . There are two fellows in London from Talleyrand to negociate Bonaparte’s Memoires from them. This is believed to be their object, and Lady Holland writes from Paris that Talleyrand is cursedly alarmed about these said memoires.”

“. . . Lauderdale (who is here) tells me that when the Ministers have any papers for the King to sign, they write a letter to Bloomfield begging him to get the King’s signature, and Bloomfield again has to solicit Du Paquier, the King’s valet, to seize a favorable opportunity . . . but that, after all, the operation is the most difficult possible to get accomplished.

1821.]

LORD LAUDERDALE.

27

“The different opinions Lauderdale and I have of late entertained makes no difference in his manner to me. There is not an atom of anything artificial in him, and he sat down to dinner yesterday with us four in his green ribbon, just as he did with us at Brussells. Apropos to his green ribbon: he told us that the day the King gave it him, and almost immediately after, he attended an appointment he had with Lord Bathurst . . . so he took that opportunity of saying:—‘His Majesty, my lord, has just forced upon me the Knighthood of the Thistle.’—‘How?’ replied Lord Bathurst with the greatest surprise, ‘who has made the vacancy?’—‘I don’t know anything about that,’ says Lauderdale, ‘but all I do know is that the King has just made four of us!’ . . . Then again, Lauderdale says when the King knighted these four so unexpectedly to them all, Melville, who was one, said:—‘Has your Majesty mentioned it to Lord Liverpool?’—‘Not a word of it, my good lord,’ says old Prinney, ‘it is not the least necessary, I assure you.’—To you and me, this was very pretty humor, I think, and if Prinney never did anything worse, I, for one, would most willingly forgive him.* . . .

“Now for another of Lauderdale’s stories. You know his connection with the Duke of York and all about him. He was executor, it seems, to the Duchess; so, before the poor woman was buried, the Minister from the Elector of Hesse requested an audience of Lauderdale, the object of which was to say that, as the Duke no doubt would marry again, he had thought it his duty to mention that the Elector, his master, had a daughter whom he thought well qualified to be the Duke’s second wife, and, well-knowing Lauderdale’s great influence with the Duke, he had judged it right to make this early application to him. About a week after the Duchess’s funeral, Lauderdale mentioned this to the Duke, who immediately said:—‘This is the second application to me, for the King has communicated to me his wishes that I should marry again; but my mind

* It was, of course, contrary to constitutional custom; because, albeit the Sovereign is the Fountain of Honour, Ministers are the recognised channels through which such honours flow; and such channels do not usually serve to irrigate the Opposition.

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is quite made up to do no such thing, and so I have given the King to understand.’

“Not so, however, our dear Prinney. His mind is clearly made up, according to Lauderdale, to have another wife, and all his family are of that opinion. He goes straight for Hanover and Vienna after his Irish trip, so probably he will pick up something before his return at Xmas. . . .”

“. . . Lauderdale left us on Wednesday. Mrs. Taylor and myself had each of us a good deal of conversation with him separately about Brougham. To me, he avowed his old opinion as to Brougnam’s insanity, and renewed his old question whether ‘I had any doubt’ on the subject. He told me all that Brougham himself had told me as to him (B.) being the first person to propose the divorce, and he added that Lord Hutchinson had no more to do with the concern than he, Lauderdale, had—that Brougham persuaded him [Lord Hutchinson] to go over to St. Omer’s merely as a friend, and then decoyed him into making the proposal, upon the ground that the Queen would suspect any proposition that came from him—B. . . . I said to Lauderdale—‘How could Hutchinson under such circumstances practice the forbearance he did?’—‘Because,’ said L., ‘he must have fought Brougham and ruined him for ever, and he generously preferred sacrificing his own feelings and himself. It was a question much agitated in the family. Kit Hutchinson* was for war with Brougham, but Lord H. would let nothing be done. Had ever man such an escape as Brougham? To Mrs. Taylor, Lauderdale said that he (L.) was the first man Brougham spoke to in the spring of 1819 on the subject of the divorce, desiring him to forward the proposal either to the King or the Government, but that he (L.) positively refused, asking B. at the same time if it was not highly indelicate for such a proposal to come from him. Upon the whole, I am quite convinced that Brougham’s intention was to sacrifice the

* The Hon. Christopher H. Hutchinson, M.P. for Cork, younger brother of Lord Hutchinson.

1821.]

GEORGE IV. IN IRELAND.

29

Queen from motives either of personal ambition or revenge; and I am still more convinced now of what I always suspected—that, when he entered the House of Commons on the 7th of June (I think it was) last year on his return from St. Omer’s, his fixed intention was to sacrifice her that night by renouncing all further support of her, and that he was prevented from doing so by finding Bennett and myself taking the part we did on that occasion. . . . I enclose you a copy I have taken of a letter from Lady Glengall to Mrs. Taylor—very curious and entertaining. You know she has been Lady Conyngham’s ‘nearest and dearest’ in former times. . . . You know she is an Irishwoman—a niece of old Lord Clare—was at the head of Dublin in the days of all its polished and profligate society; and nothing can be so natural, think, as her criticism upon it in its present degraded state. In her days, Conyngham was in poverty, and Lady Conyngham owed her first introduction to Dublin high life exclusively to Lady Glengall. . . .”

“Now then, to perform my promise! but it would require the wit of a Creevey, the pen of a Pindar* or the pencil of a Gilray to do justice to the scene. Bedlam broke loose would be tame and rational to the madness of this whole nation; for persons of all ranks are collected from all parts to add their madness and loyalty to that of this mad-tropolis. The first sight that struck my eyes on landing out of the steamboat was the print of his sacred feet cut in the stone, well turned in, thus [figure]. I proceeded a little further, when a triumphal arch struck my astonished eyes. It was worthy and only fit for Jack-in-the

* I.e. John Wolcott, who, under the pseudonym of “Peter Pindar,” wrote The Lousiad, and a great quantity of occasional, satirical, and often scurrilous poems.

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Green on a May Day. Rags hung from every window which are called flags, but which would be taken by any one in their senses for the sign of a dyer’s shop. Not one human being in mourning, and when I appeared in sables at a ball, and was asked who I mourned for, I was called a Radical! He was dead drunk when he landed on the 12th of August—his own birthday. They drank all the wine on board the steamboat, and then applied to the whiskey punch, till he could hardly stand. This accounts for his eloquent speech to Lord Kingston, which you may have seen in the papers:—‘You black-whiskered rascal!’ etc. They clawed and pawed him all over, and called him his Ethereal Majesty. . . . They absolutely kiss his knees and feet, and he is enchanted with it all. Alas! poor degraded country! I cannot but blush for you. Think of their having applauded Castlereagh! It is exactly as if a murderer were brought to view the body of his victim, and that he was to be applauded for his crime; for Dublin is but the mangled corpse of what it was; and he—the man whom they huzza—the cut-throat who brought it to its present condition.

“Lady C[onyngham] shows but little in public. She lives at the King’s own lodge at the Phoenix Park. He returned from Slane* this day and report says he is to pay another visit there. It is much talked of by all ranks, and many witticisms are dealt forth. . . . Ye Gods! how they will fight next week. The persons who are most active and forward in managing the fêtes will be undone, as the money subscribed cannot be collected. It is a melancholy farce from beginning to end, and they have voted him a palace! In short, palaces in the air and drunkards under the table are the order of the day. Ireland, I am ashamed of you! He never can stand it: his head must go. Indeed, were I to tell you half, you would say that it was already going, but in all in which she is concerned, I wish to be silent. . . . Far from doing good to this wretched country, his visit is making people spend money which they don’t possess. . . . Nothing is so indecent as the total neglect of mourning. He

* The Marquess Conyngham’s seat in county Meath.

1821.]

END OF THE ROYAL VISIT.

31

appeared at his private levee, the day after his arrival, in a bright blue coat with the brightest yellow buttons* . . .

“. . . The King I find has cut his voyage short by landing at Milford. He was strongly advised to go quietly to Holyhead, but Sir Watkin† had refused to receive a certain part of his cortège, saying that his wife did not know the ladies. . . . I never saw Lady C. in higher spirits or beauty. She went little into public, and the King hurried over all the sights, as he could not bear to be away from her five minutes.‡ Old Sidmouth was never sober: the newspapers are perfectly accurate on this, as on many other occasions. . . . The Catholics think they are quite triumphant and sure of their emancipation, whilst his Majesty’s nods and winks to the High Churchmen have quite set their friends at ease with regard to his intentions. It is humbug!! and on every side; but the Duke of Leinster, Lord Meath and the Irish Whigs are become quite as well educated courtiers as your Devonshires and others that shall be nameless. . . .”

“. . . My little friend, the youngest Copley,§ can never resist touching up John George [Lambton] for

* “Blomfield tells me that the King intends to wear mourning at his private levee, and crape round his arm for the rest of the time. It was not easy, I learn, to persuade him to this” [The Croker Papers, i. 201]. Mr. Croker was present with the King in Dublin. † Sir W. W. Wynn, 4th baronet of Wynnstay. ‡ “The King went minutely through the Museum and other parts of the interior. Whether this tired him or that he was too impatient to get to Slane, I cannot tell—perhaps both; but he did not appear on the lawn for above four minutes. . . . Great disappointment, and some criticism, which five minutes more would have prevented” [The Croker Papers, i. 206]. § Afterwards married to 3rd Earl Grey.

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one of his sublimities. The first day he was here he said he considered £40,000 a year a moderate income—such a one as a man might jog on with. This was when we were alone; but it was too good to be lost, and . . . yesterday at breakfast, when we were discussing Lord Harewood’s fortune, little Cop said with becoming gravity ‘she believed it exceeded a couple of jogs.’”*

“. . . As you are all soldiers in your hearts, I send you a letter I got from Sefton last Sunday, with his opinion touching the Life Guards. By the by, Lambton sent up £500 from Cantley as his subscription for buying Wilson an annuity equal to the pay he has lost. . . .”

“. . . Let me know what you are at. I take it for granted you are red hot against the Life Guards; if so, I don’t agree with you; and if I had followed my inclination, I should have subscribed for them. I think they are always infamously treated by the mob, and are always much too forbearing; but never so much as on the recent occasion. As for the Government, they ought to be impaled, and I hope they will. What will become of Brougham’s silk gown? . . . I hear the Whigs have great hopes of coming in. I sincerely hope they will be disappointed. . . .