Chapter XIX (2)

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 Duchesse 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 assembled before dinner, to all
of whom we were presented--the Duchesse 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
Duchesse 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
assembled, 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 Mass 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.]

[Page Head: HENRY TAYLOR ON ABOLITION OF SLAVERY.]

It seems that the Government project (or perhaps only the fact that they have one) about West Indian emancipation has got wind, and the West Indians are of course in a state of great alarm. They believe that it will be announced, whatever it is to be, in the King's Speech, though I doubt there being anything but a vague intention expressed in it. Of all political feelings and passions--and such this rage for emancipation is, rather than a consideration of interest--it has always struck me as the most extraordinary and remarkable. There can be no doubt that a great many of the Abolitionists are actuated by very pure motives; they have been shocked at the cruelties which have been and still are very often practised towards slaves, their minds are imbued with the horrors they have read and heard of, and they have an invincible conviction that the state of slavery under any form is repugnant to the spirit of the English Constitution and the Christian religion, and that it is a stain upon the national character which ought to be wiped away. These people, generally speaking, are very ignorant concerning all the various difficulties which beset the question; their notions are superficial; they pity the slaves, whom they regard as injured innocents, and they hate their masters, whom they treat as criminal barbarians. Others are animated in this cause purely by ambition, and by finding that it is a capital subject to talk upon, and a cheap and easy species of benevolence; others have satisfied themselves that slavery is a mistaken system, that the cruelty of it is altogether gratuitous, and that free labour will answer the purpose as well or better, and get rid of the odium; and thousands more have mixed feelings and opinions, compounded of some or all of the above in various degrees and proportions, according to the bent of individual character; but there are some persons among the most zealous and able of the Abolitionists who avail themselves of the passions and the ignorance of the people to carry this point, while they carefully conceal their own sentiments as to the result of the experiment. I say some because, though I only know (of my own knowledge) of one, from the sagacity of the man and the conformity of his opinions with those of others on this and other topics, I have no doubt that there are many who view the matter in the same light. I allude to Henry Taylor,[6] who rules half the West Indies in the Colonial Office, though with an invisible sceptre. Talking over the matter the other day, he said that he was well aware of the consequences of emancipation both to the negroes and the planters. The estates of the latter would not be cultivated; it would be impossible, for want of labour; the negroes would not work--no inducement would be sufficient to make them; they wanted to be free merely that they might be idle. They would, on being emancipated, possess themselves of ground, the fertility of which in those regions is so great that very trifling labour will be sufficient to provide them with the means of existence, and they will thus relapse rapidly into a state of barbarism; they will resume the habits of their African brethren, but, he thinks, without the ferocity and savageness which distinguish the latter. Of course the germs of civilisation and religion which have been sown among them in their servile state will be speedily obliterated; if not, as man must either rise or fall in the moral scale, they will acquire strength, with it power, and as certainly the desire of using that power for the amelioration of their condition. The island (for Jamaica may be taken for example, as it was in our conversation) would not long be tenable for whites; indeed, it is difficult to conceive how any planters could remain there when their property was no longer cultivable, even though the emancipated negroes should become as harmless and gentle as the ancient Mexicans. Notwithstanding this view of the matter, in which my friend has the sagacity to perceive some of the probable consequences of the measure, though (he admits) with much uncertainty as to its operation, influenced as it must be by circumstances and accidents, he is for emancipating at once. 'Fiat justitia ruat coelum'--that is, I do not know that he is for immediate, unconditional emancipation; I believe not, but he is for doing the deed; whether he goes before or lags after the Government I do not at this moment know. He is, too, a high-principled man, full of moral sensibility and of a grave, reflecting, philosophical character, and neither a visionary in religion nor in politics, only of a somewhat austere and uncompromising turn of mind, and with some of the positiveness of a theorist who has a lofty opinion of his own capacity, and has never undergone that discipline of the world, that tumbling and tossing and jostling, which beget modesty and diffidence and prudence, from the necessity which they inculcate of constant compromises with antagonist interests and hostile passions. But what is the upshot of all this? Why, that in the midst of the uproar and confusion, the smoke and the dust of the controversy, one may believe that one sees a glimmering of the real futurity in the case--and that is a long series of troubles and a wide scene of ruin.

[6] [Afterwards Sir Henry Taylor, K.M.G., author of 'Philip
van Artevelde.' Nearly forty years later Sir H. Taylor
continued to fill the same position described by Mr.
Greville in 1833. He resigned in 1872.]

January 30th, 1833 {p.349}

The intentions of Government with regard to the West Indies (or rather that they have intentions of a nature very fatal to that interest) having got wind, the consternation of the West India body is great. A deputation, headed by Sir Alexander Grant, waited upon Lords Grey and Goderich the other day, and put certain questions to them, stating that the prevalence of reports, some of which had appeared in the newspapers, had greatly alarmed them, and they wished to ascertain if any of them had been authorised by Government. Lord Grey said 'certainly not; the Government had authorised nothing.' They asked if he would reappoint the Committees. He would give no pledge as to this, but they discussed the propriety of so doing, he seeming indisposed. To all their questions he gave vague answers, refusing to communicate anything except this, that nothing was decided, but a plan was under the consideration of the Cabinet in which the interests of all parties were consulted. He added that he could not pledge himself to give any previous intimation of the intentions of Government to the West India body, nor to disclose the measure at all until it was proposed to Parliament. There are in the meantime no end of reports of the nature and extent of the proposed measure, and no end to the projects and opinions of those who are interested.

I dined at Lord Bathurst's yesterday, and sat next to Lord Ellenborough, who said that he was convinced the best thing the proprietors could do would be to agree instantly to stop their orders, which he believes would compel Government to arrest their course. I am not enough acquainted with the subject to judge how far they might operate, but I doubt it, or that in the temper of the people of this country, or rather of those zealots who represent it, and with the disposition of this Government to yield to every popular cry, the fear of any consequences would prevent their going on. It would, I believe, only give them and the House of Commons a pretext for refusing them pecuniary compensation. I was much amused with a piece of vanity of Ellenborough's. We were talking of the war between the Turks and the Egyptians, and the resources of Egypt, &c., when he said, 'If I had continued at the Board of Control I would have had Egypt, got at it from the Red Sea; I had already ordered the formation of _a corps_ of _Arab guides_!'

February 1st, 1833 {p.351}

[Page Head: RUSSIA AND TURKEY.]

The Reformed Parliament opened heavily (on Tuesday), as Government think satisfactorily. Cobbett took his seat on the Treasury Bench, and spoke three times, though the last time nobody would stay to hear him. He was very twaddling, and said but one good thing, when he called O'Connell the member for _Ireland_.

Saw Madame de Lieven the day before yesterday, who fired a tirade against Government; she vowed that nobody ever had been treated with such personal incivility as Lieven, 'des injures, des reproches,' that Cobbett, Hunt, and all the blackguards in England could not use more offensive language; whatever event was coming was imputed to Russia--Belgium, Portugal, Turkey, 'tout etait la Russie et les intrigues de la Russie;' that she foresaw they should be driven away from England. With reference to the war in Asia Minor, she said the Sultan had applied to the Emperor for assistance, 'et qu'il l'aurait, et que le Sultan n'avait pas un meilleur ami que lui,' that the Egyptians would advance no farther, and a great deal more of complaint at the injustice evinced towards them and on their political innocence. In the evening I told all this to Mellish of the Foreign Office, who knows everything about foreign affairs, and he said it was all a lie, that Russia had offered her assistance, which the Sultan had refused, and she was, in fact, intriguing and making mischief in every Court in Europe. George Villiers writes me word that she has been for months past endeavouring to get up a war anywhere, and that this Turkish business is more likely than anything to bring one about.[7]

[7] [The state of the Ottoman Empire was most critical. In
the latter months of 1832 the victorious troops of
Mehomet Ali had forced their way across the Taunus; the
peace of Koniah was concluded early in 1833 with the
Egyptians; and the Treaty of Unkiar Skelessi with the
Russians in July 1833.]

February 2nd, 1833 {p.351}

Dinner at Lord Lansdowne's for the Sheriffs; soon over and not particularly disagreeable, though I hate dining with the Ministers; had some conversation with Goderich about Jamaica; he says Mulgrave has done very well there, perhaps rather too vigorously, that the dissolution of the Assembly under all circumstances is questionable, but he must be supported; he hopes nothing from another assembly, nor does Mulgrave, who says that they are incorrigible. The fact is their conduct paralyses the exertions of their friends here, if, indeed, they have any friends who would make any exertions.

February 4th, 1833 {p.352}

At Court for the King's Speech and the appointment of Sheriffs. Lord Munster and Lord Denbigh were sworn Privy Councillors. The West Indians have taken such an attitude of desperation that the Government is somewhat alarmed, and seems disposed to pause at the adoption of its abolitionary measures. George Hibbert told me last night that if they were driven to extremities there was nothing they were not ready to do, and that there would be another panic if Government did not take care, and so Rothschild had told them.

I dined with Madame de Lieven yesterday, who is in the agonies of doubt about her remaining here. It turns upon this: Stratford Canning has been appointed Ambassador at St. Petersburg, and the Emperor will not receive him. Palmerston is indignant, and will not send anybody else. If the Emperor persists, we shall only have a Charge d'Affaires at his Court, and in that case he will not leave an Ambassador at ours. There seems to be at present no way out of the quarrel. Stratford Canning's mission to Madrid cannot last for ever, and when it is over the point must be decided.

The people of Jamaica have presented a petition to the King (I don't know exactly in what shape, or how got up), praying to be released from their allegiance. Goderich told me that it was very insolent. Mulgrave's recent _coup de theatre_ is severely condemned. Nothing can save these unhappy colonies, for all parties vie with each other in violence and folly--the people here and the people there, the Government here and the Government there.

February 10th, 1833 {p.353}

[Page Head: DEBATE ON THE ADDRESS.]

After four days' debate in the House of Commons (quite unprecedented, I believe) the Address was carried by a large majority.[8] Opinions are of course very various upon the state of the House and the character of the discussion. The anti-Reformers, with a sort of melancholy triumph, boast that their worst expectations have been fulfilled. The Government were during the first day or two very serious, and though on the whole they think they have reason to be satisfied, they cannot help seeing that they have in fact very little power of managing the House. Everybody agrees that the aspect of the House of Commons was very different--the number of strange faces; the swagger of O'Connell, walking about incessantly, and making signs to, or talking with, his followers in various parts; the Tories few and scattered; Peel no longer surrounded with a stout band of supporters, but pushed from his usual seat, which is occupied by Cobbett, O'Connell, and the Radicals; he is gone up nearer to the Speaker.

[8] [The first Reformed Parliament met and was formally
opened on the 29th of January, 1833. After the election
of the Speaker (Manners Sutton) the King delivered his
Speech from the Throne on the 5th of February.]

The whole debate turned upon Ireland. O'Connell pronounced a violent but powerful philippic, which Stanley answered very well. Macaulay made one of his brilliant speeches the second night, and Peel spoke the third. It was not possible to make a more dexterous and judicious speech than he did; for finding himself in a very uncomfortable position, he at once placed himself in a good one, and acknowledging that his situation was altogether different from what it had been, he contrived to transfer to himself personally much of the weight and authority which he previously held as the organ and head of a great and powerful party. He pronounced an eulogium of Stanley, declared that his confidence in Government was not augmented, but that he would support them if they would support law and order. The Government were extremely pleased at his speech, though I think not without a secret misgiving that they are likely to be more in his power than is pleasant. But the benefit resulting from the whole is that the Radicals all opposed the Government, while Peel supported them; so that we may hope that a complete line of separation is drawn between the two former, and that the Government will really and boldly take the Conservative side. On the whole, perhaps, this bout may be deemed satisfactory.

February 14th, 1833 {p.354}

[Page Head: CHARACTER OF PEEL.]

The night before last Althorp brought forward his plan of Irish Church Reform, with complete success. He did it well, and Stanley made a very brilliant speech. The House received it with almost unanimous applause, nobody opposing but Inglis and Goulburn, and Peel, in a very feeble speech, which scarcely deserves the name of opposition; it will be of great service to the Government. O'Connell lauded the measure up to the skies; but Sheil said he would bite his tongue off with vexation the next morning for having done so, after he had slept upon it. It was clear that Peel, who is courting the House, and exerting all his dexterity to bring men's minds round to him, saw the stream was too strong for him to go against it, so he made a sort of temporising, moderate, unmeaning speech, which will give him time to determine on his best course, and did not commit him. Poulett Thomson said to me yesterday that Peel's prodigious superiority over everybody in the House was so evident, his talent for debate and thorough knowledge of Parliamentary tactics, gained by twenty years of experience, so commanding, that he must draw men's minds to him, and that he was evidently playing that game, throwing over the ultra-Tories and ingratiating himself with the House and the country. He, in fact, means to open a house to all comers, and make himself necessary and indispensable. Under that placid exterior he conceals, I believe, a boundless ambition, and hatred and jealousy lurk under his professions of esteem and political attachment. His is one of those contradictory characters, containing in it so much of mixed good and evil, that it is difficult to strike an accurate balance between the two, and the acts of his political life are of a corresponding description, of questionable utility and merit, though always marked by great ability. It is very sure that he has been the instrument of great good, or of enormous evil, and apparently more of the latter. He came into life the child and champion of a political system which has been for a long time crumbling to pieces; and if the perils which are produced by its fall are great, they are mainly attributable to the manner in which it was upheld by Peel, and to his want of sagacity, in a wrong estimate of his means of defence and of the force of the antagonist power with which he had to contend. The leading principles of his political conduct have been constantly erroneous, and his dexterity and ability in supporting them have only made the consequences of his errors more extensively pernicious. If we look back through the long course of Peel's life, and enquire what have been the great political measures with which his name is particularly connected, we shall find, first, the return to cash payments, which almost everybody now agrees was a fatal mistake, though it would not be fair to visit him with extraordinary censure for a measure which was sanctioned by almost all the great financial authorities; secondly, opposition to Reform in Parliament and to religious emancipation of every kind, the maintenance of the exclusive system, and support, untouched and unconnected, of the Church, both English and Irish. His resistance to alterations on these heads was conducted with great ability, and for a long time with success; but he was endeavouring to uphold a system which was no longer supportable, and having imbibed in his career much of the liberal spirit of the age, he found himself in a state of no small perplexity between his old connections and his more enlarged propensities. Still he was chained down by the former, and consequently being beaten from all his positions, he was continually obliged to give way, but never did so till rather too late for his own credit and much too late for the interest at stake. Notwithstanding, therefore, the reputation he has acquired, the hold he has had of office, and is probably destined to have again, his political life has been a considerable failure, though not such an one as to render it more probable than not that his future life will be a failure too. He has hitherto been encumbered with embarrassing questions and an unmanageable party. Time has disposed of the first, and he is divorced from the last; if his great experience and talents have a fair field to act upon, he may yet, in spite of his selfish and unamiable character, be a distinguished and successful Minister.