February 23rd, 1830

Dined with Lord Bathurst and a dull party; but after dinner Lady Bathurst began talking about the King, and told me one or two anecdotes. When the account of Lord Liverpool’s seizure reached the King at Brighton, Peel was at the Pavilion; the King got into one of his nervous ways, and sent for him in the middle of the night, desiring he would not dress; so he went down in his bedgown and sat by the side of the King’s bed. Peel has got an awkward way of thrusting out his hands while he talks, which at length provoked the King so much that he said, ‘Mr. Peel, it is no use going on so (taking him off) WINDSOR CASTLE and thrusting out your hands, which is no answer to my question.’

Went to Esterhazy’s ball; talked to old Rothschild, who was there with his wife and a dandy little Jew son. He says that Polignac’s Government will stand by the King’s support and Polignac’s own courage; offered to give me a letter to his brother, who would give me any information I wanted, squeezed my hand, and looked like what he is.

February 25th, 1830

Yesterday at Windsor for a Council; the first time I have seen one held in the new rooms of the Castle. They are magnificent and comfortable, the corridor really delightful—furnished through its whole length of about 500 feet with the luxury of a drawing-room, and full of fine busts and bronzes, and entertaining pictures, portraits, and curious antiquities. There were the Chancellor, the Duke, three Secretaries of State, Bathurst, and Melville. The King very blind—did not know the Lord Chancellor, who was standing close to him, and took him for Peel; he would not give up the point, though, for when he found his mistake he attributed it to the light, and appealed to Lord Bathurst, who is stone-blind, and who directly agreed.

February 26th, 1830

Intended to go to the House of Lords to hear the debate on Lord Stanhope’s motion (state of the nation), but went to see Fanny Kemble in ‘Mrs. Beverley’ instead. She had a very great success—house crowded and plenty of emotion—but she does not touch me, though she did more than in her other parts; however, she is very good and will be much better.

The debate in the Lords was not lively, and the Duke, they say, made a most execrable speech. The fact is that he is not up to a great speech on a great question; he wants the information and preparation, the discipline of mind, that is necessary, and accordingly he exposes himself dreadfully, and entirely lost all the advantages he had gained by the excellent speeches he had previously made on other and more confined questions. He was very angry with the Duke of Richmond, whose opposition to him is considered by the Duke’s adherents as a sort of political parricide. Old Eldon spoke very well, and Radnor; the rest but moderate.

February 27th, 1830

Dined at Lord Lansdowne’s; Moore, Rogers, J. Russell, Spring Rice, Charles Kemble, Auckland, and Doherty; very agreeable, but Rogers was overpowered by numbers and loud voices. Doherty told some good professional stories, and they all agreed that Irish courts of justice afforded the finest materials for novels and romances. The ‘Mertons’ and ‘Collegians’ are both founded on facts; the stories are in the ‘New Monthly Magazine;’ they said the author had not made the most of the ‘Collegians’ story. Very odd nervousness of Moore; he could not tell that story (of Crampton’s), which I begged him to do, and which would not have been lugged in neck and shoulders, because everybody was telling just such stories; he is delighted with my note of it. Charles Kemble talked of his daughter and her success—said she was twenty, and that she had once seen Mrs. Siddons in ‘Lady Randolph’ when she was seven years old. She was so affected in ‘Mrs. Beverley’ that he was obliged to carry her into her dressing-room, where she screamed for five minutes; the last scream (when she throws herself on his body) was involuntary, not in the part, and she had not intended it, but could not resist the impulse. She likes Juliet the best of her parts.