Chapter VIII (2)

_Tuesday, 13th February._—Lord M. spoke of the apparent cruelty, when a person is dying and is suffering dreadfully, and anything to hasten the end would be mercy and relief, that _that_ is not allowed, and is considered unjustifiable by law. I mentioned to Lord Melbourne a case in which it had been done; he told me an anecdote of Napoleon respecting this; when his great favourite and friend Duroc was so frightfully wounded, the lower part of his body being carried away—Napoleon came to him, and Duroc implored him to give him laudanum to alleviate his sufferings and hasten his end, but Napoleon would not do it, and said he could not sanction such a thing. Lord Melbourne observed, “If they get the habit of doing such a thing” (hastening the end) “when a person is in a hopeless state, why, they _may_ do it when a person is _not_ in a hopeless state.” Spoke of Lord Leveson[395] who is such a very odd-looking young man; Lord Melbourne said that Lady Granville “was always very ugly,” and that “she is _now_ better looking than she used to be.” Spoke of large dogs, which Lord Melbourne thinks dangerous pets, as you are always so completely at their mercy if they choose to do you harm. Spoke of Lady Lilford,[396] Lord and Lady Holland; the latter, Lord Melbourne says, always thinks _first_ of herself and then of Lord Holland, who quite obeys her. I asked Lord Melbourne if Lord Glenelg was at all obstinate; he said not now, but that he had been, and had given great trouble in ’30 or ’31, when he alone opposed in the Cabinet £25,000 being proposed as an outfit for the Queen Dowager; and that Lord Grey had been obliged to go and tell the King that he could not propose it, as Lord Glenelg was so much against it; Lord Melbourne said that neither the King or Queen ever forgave this and that the King could not _bear_ Lord Glenelg; he could neither bear Lord John Russell, who, Lord Melbourne said, he always called “that young man”; he also disliked Sir John Hobhouse, and Mr. Poulett Thomson, and latterly Lord Palmerston, though in the beginning he liked him very much; Mr. S. Rice he liked pretty well; the Lord Chancellor[397] very much, and always told Lord Melbourne that the Lord Chancellor was “a kind good man”; Lord Dunraven[398] thought the King liked him (Ld. D.), but Lord Melbourne said he thought the King disliked him “at bottom,” though he was confidential with him. I asked Lord Melbourne if he did not see the King often? Lord Melbourne replied not often, and never at Windsor latterly; that he was always very civil to him, though not very open, and always very short. He said (that by the paper which Taylor wrote and gave me, and which Lord Melbourne has read) that the King had intended, in case the Ministry had resigned (which Lord Melbourne said they had declared they would, about the Irish Corporation Bill) to send a paper round to the Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel and Lord Melbourne calling upon them to form a Ministry. Lord Melbourne added: “He” (the late King) “was not at all a clever man; he was a very timid man; very easily frightened; in fact he was quite in Taylor’s hands; Taylor could turn him any way.” This I observed was a wrong thing; Lord Melbourne said certainly it was, “but considering the King’s character, and how difficult it was for him to take a resolution, one cannot say it was an unfortunate thing.” I observed that Taylor turned the King to the Tory side; Lord Melbourne said: “The Tories don’t at all consider Taylor a friend.” I spoke of the unfortunate day in August ’36, when the King came to Windsor (after having prorogued Parliament) in a great passion. Lord Melbourne said this was caused by the King having set his mind upon having a Marine executed who was recommended to mercy; Lord Minto (whom the King neither liked) came to Lord Melbourne in great distress and said: “The King will have this man hanged.” The King hated the Speaker, and told Lord Melbourne that all the time the Speaker was addressing him in the House of Lords: “Shocking voice he has.”

_Wednesday, 14th February._—Lord M. told me that Lord John had written to him that he would be unable to attend the House of Commons next day, when this _anxious_ Ballot Question comes on. Lord Melbourne said he did not think it quite a bad thing that Lord John would be away when this Ballot Question came on, as he thinks there will be less irritation if he is absent, and as Lord John is unwell and “worried about the child,” Lord Melbourne observed he “might say something imprudent.” I think this all very true. Lord Melbourne was very funny about caps and bonnets; he looked round the table and said, “There is an amazing cargo of bonnets and things come from Paris, I fancy,” which made us laugh; and he observed Lady Caroline’s hat and said he imagined that was something quite new. He spoke of Mdlle. Laure; we (Lady Durham and I) laughed very much and asked him how he knew about her; “They tell me of her,” he added, “and I fancy she has beautiful things.” The Duke of Wellington was in very good spirits, but it strikes me he is a good deal aged, particularly in appearance. Lady Francis Egerton[399] is a clever, agreeable little person; and, though much altered, is still very pretty. I sat on the sofa with Lady Francis and Lady Durham[400]; Lord Melbourne sitting near me the whole evening; and Lord Francis not far from him; the other ladies were seated round the table. We (Lord Melbourne, Lord Francis and I) spoke about German literature—the weather—fires, the fire at Paris, &c., &c. Lord Francis is rather a silent person and it is not easy _de le mettre en train de parler_. I asked Lord Melbourne what the Duke of Wellington had told him that made him (Ld. M.) laugh so much; Lord Melbourne then told me the following anecdote of George IV., which caused the laughter. When George IV. returned from Ireland, he was very sick and suffered a good deal; and he stopped and rested at Badminton; upon this the Judge, who was sitting at the Assizes at Gloucester, imagined that he could not have a man executed when the King was in the County without asking him about it, came over to Badminton and wished the King to hear the case, which put the King into the greatest passion and he exclaimed, “What! am I to be followed all over the country with the Recorder’s report?...” Spoke to Lord Melbourne about Lord John’s child, and the anxiety of having one child only. I observed to him however that I did not think having more than one child lessened the anxiety about them; for if persons loved their children, they would be just as anxious if _one_ of the many was ill, and would feel the loss of _one_ as much as if he or she had but that one. Lord Melbourne said he thought quite so too; but that somehow or other “if there are many, they have seldom anything the matter with them.” He added “it is not the right affection for a child, if they love them only as being their heir, or for keeping up their name.” He said he was going home after he had left the Palace, as he had a great deal to do. He thinks his sister had better go out of town, as she is not well, and out of spirits since she is in London. I spoke of sons-in-law and daughters-in-law and observed that I thought daughters-in-law seldom got on well with their mothers-in-law, in which Lord Melbourne quite agreed; whereas the sons-in-law they generally were fond of. I asked him how his sister agreed with the young Lady Cowper. “Pretty well,” he replied, “but I don’t think she forms any exception to the rule.” Lady Ashley and Lady Fanny, he said, liked their sister-in-law, but had also a certain feeling about it; “they don’t like to see her in the same place where they used to see their mother.” Spoke of the very strange custom in Russia that on Easter Sunday _everybody_ who chooses is allowed to _kiss_ the Empress, saying at the same time “Christ is risen.” Lord Melbourne told me an anecdote of the Emperor of Russia. “He said to a sentinel, ‘Christ is risen,’ and the man answered, ‘No, he is not’; the Emperor started and repeated, ‘Christ is risen’; the man again said, ‘No, he is not, for I am a Jew.’ The Emperor said, ‘You are quite right.’” I was quite happy to see the very amicable and friendly terms on which the Duke and my excellent friend were; it is impossible for Lord Melbourne to be otherwise almost with anybody, and the Duke having behaved very well lately, and being likewise an open, frank man, it renders it easy for them to be so....

_Thursday, 15th February._—I sat on the sofa with the Duchess of Sutherland, the Duke of Sutherland and Lord Durham sitting near us. Lord Durham spoke of the King of Greece[401]; says he is _remarkably_ plain and mean-looking, very shy and awkward in society, and _en fin_ unable to do _anything_. The Sultan,[402] whom he also saw, he describes as a fine-looking but not “thorough-bred” looking man; short and dark, with an expression of treachery in his eyes....

_Wednesday, 21st February._—At about a ¼ p. 2 I went into the Throne room for the Levee with my Ladies &c., and all the Household and the Ministers being in the room. The only person who I was very anxious to see and whom I was much interested to have seen, was _O’Connell_, who was presented, and of course, as everybody does when they are presented, kissed hands. He was in a full wig as one of the Queen’s Councillors in Ireland, and not in the brown Brutus wig he generally wears. He is very tall, rather large, has a remarkably good-humoured countenance, small features, small clever blue eyes, and very like his caricatures; there were likewise two of his sons, Morgan and John O’Connell; his son-in-law, Mr. Fitzsimon, and his nephew John Morgan O’Connell. Lord Melbourne told me that one of my pensioners, a Sir John Lade,[403] one of George IV.’s associates, was dead; spoke of him, of another called George Lee; of old Mrs. Fox, who Lord Melbourne knew formerly; he said of Mr. Fox, “he took great notice of me.” Mr. Fox died on the 13th of September 1806. Spoke of Nelson, &c., &c. He spoke of the Committee on the Pensions which was going on; that it was a very fair Committee, and that there had only been a difficulty about one case, which was a curious one, and which is a pension given to two French ladies, Madame de Rohan and Madame de Longueville, daughters of the Duc de Biron. Lord Melbourne told me how they came to get it, which is as follows, and in telling which he became quite affected and his eyes filled with tears. When Lord Rodney went to Paris just before he obtained his great victory, he was arrested for debt, as (Lord Melbourne said) he was always without a shilling in the world; and the Duc de Biron said, “Though we are enemies, still it is too bad that a great English officer should be arrested for debt here,” and he paid his debts for him. Afterwards when the Duc de Biron’s daughters, Mmes. de Rohan and Longueville, who are the first nobility in France, got into distress, they sent a statement to George III. of what their father had done for Lord Rodney, and George III. gave them a pension. Spoke of O’Connell, and George IV., to whose Levee in Dublin he (O’Connell) went; Lord Melbourne said that O’Connell declared he heard George IV. distinctly say (when he passed) to some one, “God damn him.” Lord Melbourne said that George IV. was in a very awkward position when he was in Ireland, for that the whole country was in a ferment of enthusiasm believing the King to be for the Catholic Emancipation, whereas in his heart he was against it. I said to Lord Melbourne that there was rather a disagreeable business about Lord Durham’s wishing me to receive Lady —— at Court, which, if she had been refused at the late Court, it would, I feared, be impossible for me to do. Lord Melbourne said, “It will not do for you to reverse a sentence passed by the late Court in the beginning of your reign; I quite agree with you that you cannot do this.” He said that in general with respect to receiving people it was better to go according to what had been determined by a Court of Justice and if there was nothing against them there, to receive them and not to inquire into what their early lives had been[404]....

_Friday, 23rd February._—I lamented my being _so_ short, which Lord M. smiled at and thought no misfortune. Spoke to him of the Levée, the place where I stood which some people objected to, which led him to speak of the old Court in the time of George III., when a Levee and also a Drawing-room was like an Assembly; the King and Queen used to come into the room where the people were already assembled, and to walk round and speak to the people; they did not speak to everybody, and it was considered no offence, he said, if they did not. He said Queen Charlotte spoke English with a little accent, but that it was rather pretty. I asked him when he first went to Court; he said in the year 1803, he thought; it was at the time when everybody volunteered their services and when he was in a Volunteer Corps. Spoke of Lord Howe, his remaining about the Queen[405]; and when he was made to resign. Lord Melbourne said he (Ld. H.) seldom voted but that when he voted against the Reform Bill, Lord Grey was urged by an outcry from “his people” to press his (Ld. Howe’s) removal, which Lord Melbourne said was very unwise; Lord Grey went down to Windsor, and told the King of it, which alarmed the King a good deal; they (the King and Lord Grey) discussed with Taylor how it should be done; Lord Grey proposed his seeing the Queen upon it, which Taylor said never would do, and that the only way was to send for Lord Howe and make him resign, which he (Ld. H.) said he would do. Lord Melbourne said that the Queen had just come home from riding and was half undressed when Lord Howe sent to say he must see the Queen; she said she would see him when she was dressed; whereupon Lord Howe sent again to her saying the affair was so urgent that he must see her immediately; she buttoned up her habit again and saw him; he gave her the key and said he must resign, which Lord Melbourne said made the Queen very angry and rendered her still more hostile to Lord Grey’s Government than she already was....

_Tuesday, 27th February._—I said to Lord Melbourne that Uncle Leopold was amazingly frightened when the Prince of Orange came over with his sons, as he always imagined that the late King had _some intentions_ about that; (meaning a marriage between me and one of the young Princes.) “And so he had,” said Lord Melbourne decidedly. “He sounded me about it,” and Lord Melbourne wrote to him (the late King) to say that in a political point of view, he did not think it a desirable thing; that the country would not like a connection with Holland; the King was much disappointed at this, Lord Melbourne said; he (the King) had always a fear about a marriage; he was afraid Mamma had intentions, which I observed she certainly had; and that the King therefore thought “he must _dévancer_ her”; that Lord Melbourne told him, if he wished such a thing he had better be sure first if the _Parties_ themselves liked it; for that he never could force such a thing; of which Lord Melbourne said the King never seemed sensible; at which I laughed. He said that the Prince of Orange also came to him (Ld. M.) from the King, and asked him if he or the Government had any objection to such a connection. “Personally,” Lord Melbourne said to him, “there could be no objection; no more than to any other Prince in Europe”; but at the same time he must tell him that his (the Prince’s) country was so situated that it would be constantly involved in war if any war was to break out; “I told him as much as that,” Lord Melbourne said, “and that I could not say anything until we saw it in some sort of shape or other.” This was all very curious and interesting for me to hear.

_from a portrait by Stone_]

INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO CHAPTER IX

The early months of the year 1838 found Lord Melbourne’s Government
in considerable difficulties. For legislative purposes the
Parliamentary majority was impotent. It was just able to keep the
Ministry afloat. “The Queen,” wrote Lord Palmerston, “is as steady
to us as ever, and was in the depth of despair when she thought we
were in danger of being turned out.”

This was a year of grave trouble in Canada, but, as it turned out,
a year full of promise for the subsequent welfare of that great
Dominion, and for her connection with the Mother-country. The Queen
was undoubtedly attracted by Lord Durham, the Governor-General,
who, although impulsive and impatient of restraint, possessed
charms of manner and appearance, together with intellectual gifts,
which rendered his personality agreeable to those with whom he was
brought in contact. The Queen showed great kindness to him and Lady
Durham before their departure for Canada. She regretted his return,
and was grieved by the quarrel between him and her Ministers.

Although during this year the Queen was in the habit of taking long
rides into the country, which were found to be very beneficial to
her health, she worked hard, and she laboriously read, under Lord
Melbourne’s guidance, masses of despatches and correspondence. At
no time during her reign was she more persistent in following the
course of public business.

She was now brought a good deal into contact with Lord Palmerston,
and was undoubtedly attracted by his great gifts, although at
a later period of her reign his administrative methods and
high-handed independence occasioned her much anxiety and led to
strong remonstrance.

In the month of April, King Leopold was engaged in suggesting to
the Queen the possibility of a union between her and Prince Albert
of Saxe-Coburg. He wrote constantly to her upon this topic, laying
stress upon the young Prince’s goodness and distinction, and upon
his great anxiety to see his intellectual and moral training
perfected under the auspices of Baron Stockmar.

In the course of the spring the preparations for the Queen’s
Coronation were commenced, and she took keen interest in the detail
of that ceremonial. It was a somewhat delicate matter to avoid
having to invite her Uncle King Leopold and Queen Louise, but a
hint having been dropped to the King of the Belgians, he speedily
realised that the custom of not including crowned heads in the
invitations to a Coronation was sound and worth preserving. “On
mature reflection,” he wrote, “I think that a King and Queen at
your dear Coronation might perhaps be a _hors d’œuvre_.” To this
view the Queen graciously assented.