[Appendix A. Defences of the Country] 481
[Appendix B. The Anti-Papal Agitation] 486
[INDEX] 493
A JOURNAL
OF THE
REIGN OF QUEEN VICTORIA.
FROM 1837 TO 1852.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Death of Mr. Thomas Grenville—Russian Measures in Poland—French Overtures to England—The Confidential Correspondence on the Spanish Marriage—Relations with France—Hostility of Lord Palmerston to France—Visit to Paris—Princess Lieven's Version of the Transaction—Lord Cowley's Opinion—Conversation with M. Guizot—M. Duchâtel's Opinion—The exact Truth as to the Spanish Marriage—Conversation with M. Thiers—A Dinner at M. Thiers'—Further Argument with M. Guizot—Character of Queen Christina—Papers laid before the Chamber—Relations of the British Embassy with the French Opposition—At the Tuileries—Mr. Baring's Opinion—Debate in the Chamber of Deputies—Mrs. Austin's Salon in Paris—Debates in England—Bad Effect of Lord Normanby's Intrigues with Thiers—Another Misunderstanding—M. de Tocqueville—Ball at the Hôtel de Ville—Animosity of Guizot and Lord Palmerston—A Call at the Sorbonne and at the Hôtel Lambert—Change of Government in Spain—Farewell Visit to M. Guizot—Effect of the English Blue Book—Conversation with M. Thiers.
CHARACTER OF MR. THOMAS GRENVILLE.
December 19th, 1846.—On Thursday evening at seven o'clock Mr. Grenville died, after a week's illness which was no more than a severe cold or influenza. If he had lived till the 31st of this month, he would have completed his ninety-first year. I had only known him with any sort of intimacy for the last five or six years, during which I saw a good deal of him. He was a remarkable man, not so much from great ability as from a singular healthiness of mind and body and the greenness of his old age. I never saw so old a man in possession of such mental and bodily faculties; his only infirmity was deafness; till about a year ago he used to walk vigorously; he never had an illness till the one with which he was attacked the year before last, and from which he recovered entirely though with strength somewhat impaired. His memory was remarkable; his cheerfulness, vivacity, and kindness of disposition delightful. He evinced an affection for his relations and a cordiality to his friends that were pleasant to behold, and he was not only entirely free from the moroseness and captiousness which so often attend old age, but he blended an extreme suavity of manner and sweetness of temper with the high-bred politeness of the more ceremonious age in which he had flourished. He was certainly the most amiable and engaging specimen of an old man I ever beheld. I do not conceive that his abilities were ever first-rate, and latterly (whatever may have been the case early in life) he entertained very strong prejudices and often very unreasonable ones; these prejudices caused him to act in some instances in a manner inconsistent with the urbanity of his disposition. He never could endure the Reform Bill or forgive its authors; he never would set his foot in Holland House after that measure; and he estranged himself from all his old political friends, even those with whom he had been the most intimate, not indeed absolutely quarrelling with them, but desisting from all intimacy. He was a scholar and a well-informed man, and he retained till the last all his literary tastes and habits; he loved the society of literary men, and to the last entered with zest and spirit and unimpaired intelligence into all questions both of literature and politics. It is difficult to say what the exact colour of his political opinions was. He used to be a Whig; but he was, at all events latterly, a moderate anti-reforming Whig, with a horror of organic changes and not fond of any changes, disliking free trade and disliking Cobden more; favourable to Catholic emancipation and the establishment of a Catholic Church, but abhorring O'Connell who was his bête noire, and in his eyes the incarnation of all evil and mischief. He never was married, but when he was young he was desperately in love with the Duchess of Devonshire, and he never married because her image remained enthroned in his breast, and he never could find any other woman to be compared with her. For many years he was a poor man, and he never became a rich one till the death of Lord Glastonbury, who left him an estate and a great deal of money; the estate, which was entailed on his nephew George Neville, he generously gave up to him at once. He lived hospitably and handsomely, and was, I am told, very generous and charitable. His greatest expense was in books; he had collected a library of extraordinary value, and which for the size of it has always been reckoned the most complete of any private collection. It continued to interest and occupy him to the last, and he never ceased to add to it as occasion offered; he was, indeed, one of the last of the great collectors, of the bibliomaniacs; he collated every book himself, and placed in the title-page of each, in his own handwriting, an account of the book, where purchased, and its history when of any interest. His society in latter years was restricted, and he was not fond of making new acquaintances unless he fell in with them by accident, when he was easily approachable and always disposed to carry them on. He had constantly dinners and very agreeable ones, and it was wonderful to see him at ninety years old doing the honours of his table with all the energy, gaiety, and gallantry of a man in the prime of life. A happier life and an easier death it would be difficult to discover; his life was extended to nearly a century without any intermission of bodily health, any decay of mental faculties, and, what is more extraordinary and more valuable, without any deadness or coldness of human affections. He was blessed with affluence, with the love of rational and elevating pursuits, and with ample leisure and power to enjoy them. He was a philosopher, a gentleman, and a Christian, and he lived in constant social intercourse with the relations to whom he was attached, or the friends of his predilection, to all of whom he was an object of the deepest respect and affection. A life so tranquil and prosperous was terminated by a death no less easy and serene; his indisposition was not such as to interfere with his usual habits; he rose at his accustomed hour and dressed himself to the last, even on the day of his death. He had always a book, latterly the Prayer Book, before him, and his mind was undisturbed and unclouded. He dined and went to sleep in his chair, and from that sleep he never awoke.