5th.—I dined at Lady Downshire’s, and Lord and Lady Aylesbury came in the evening. I heard that Lord Proby intends to move for the reformation of courts-martial. Lord Castlereagh arrived yesterday from Vienna viâ Paris. The discontent about the Corn Bill continues.
6th.—I walked out in the evening, but heard nothing particular. I dined with Miss Tisdall[[19]] and her brother, and passed the evening with Lady Aylesbury, where I heard much, as I had likewise at dinner, of the mob, which had been attacking houses[[20]] in different parts of the town, on account of the Corn Bill. A loaf steeped in blood had been placed on Carlton wall. The Horse Guards were out all day. I heard from Mr. ——, who has lately returned from Brussels, that the Flemings by no means like the Dutch—rather despise them; that the nobility and commonalty are for their old government, and the middle class for the French; that the Prince of the Netherlands has only been able to get together an army of five thousand Dutch, and must trust entirely to English and Hanoverians, who, in fact, command the country; that the only thing which reconciles the Flemings to the business is the prospect of having a Court of their own, and that they are, therefore, still looking forward to the marriage of the Princess Charlotte. The Sovereign, they hear, is to divide his time between the Hague and Brussels, and the Hereditary Prince to live constantly at the latter place. He is good humoured and civil, but has no dignity. When the Flemings come in with proper etiquette, and stand near the door, they are surprised to see his English aides-de-camp run up to him and slap him on the back—all but Lord March, who preserves his good breeding. The Hereditary Prince at first took no notice of any but English, which offended the people of the country. He now invites two or three of them every day to dine with him, but he is evidently partial to the English. He has a bad cook, and his dinners are dull.
7th.—The riots still continue. My servant tells me he has just come from Old Burlington-street, where they are pulling up the iron rails before a house which he heard was that of the Chancellor’s private secretary, but which was Mr. Robinson’s,[[21]] and they were only finishing the work they began last night. In the evening they knocked at Prince Castelcicala’s door, where I dined, and asked who lived there, inquiring for some person whose name I could not learn. They went away quietly after this; but I have since heard they did much mischief to a house in Harley-street, and to Lord Bathurst’s, in Mansfield-street. The Horse Guards are on constant duty, and I hear the 16th Light Dragoons are ordered into town from Hounslow.
8th.—I heard that Lord Uxbridge has the command of the military force,[[22]] which increases hourly, but does not seem to prevent the people from doing what they like. Two persons were, however, killed at Mr. Robinson’s by officers, as it is said, firing from the house: one, a young midshipman, lies to be owned. In the evening, about eight, I went to Weymouth-street, to Mrs. Egerton’s, and met with no mob going or coming from thence to Lady Charleville’s, in Piccadilly, where, however, the party was rather small, many being afraid to venture out, and others uneasy on account of their relations or friends in America, despatches having been received from thence with an account of the failure of Sir Alexander Cochrane and Sir Edward Pakenham’s expedition,[[23]] the death of Sir Edward, and that of General Sir Samuel Gibbs, with great loss of officers and men. Mrs. Egerton had happily received intelligence from Sir John Malcolm, that her brother, Sir Thomas Troubridge, was safe, and that he had distinguished himself on shore, where, following the steps of his father, he had fought with the land forces. Sir Pulteney Malcolm, Sir John’s brother, being second in command of the fleet, wrote this home to him. When I returned home, I heard that the people had broken the windows of Mr. Ponsonby,[[24]] in Curzon-street, and had apologised for breaking one window by mistake in the adjoining house. Lord Yarmouth had a strong guard of soldiers to prevent anything happening where he lives, at no great distance from Mr. Ponsonby’s. I saw written on the walls on Tuesday, “Guy Faux for ever!”
9th.—I saw Dr. F., who brought me a message from the Duke of Sussex, to say that he heard Princess Charlotte had been prevailed on to write a letter to her mother, but not one so strong as was wished, and that it had, therefore, not given satisfaction at Carlton House. I went out to call on Lady Aylesbury, the Duchess of Leeds, and a few others, and came home round by the Park, but did not meet any rioters. I dined at Baron Montalembert’s, where I met the French Ambassador, Count de la Châtre, a worthy old nobleman, who had been for many years serving his master faithfully, though secretly, in that capacity at our Court, and was, therefore, justly placed in the ostensible situation, with a salary of 10,000l. a year, as soon as Louis XVIII. recovered his throne, in preference to others of more weight and of more brilliant talents. He had been introduced to me one evening at Carlton House by the Count de Blacas. M. and Madame de Rayneval also dined there; a Colonel Murphy, a Spaniard of an Irish family; and a Mr. Cheverix, a celebrated chemist. Rayneval is a young man of great talents; he was secretary to Caulincourt[[25]] in Russia, where he married a modest and amiable Polish lady. Previous to this he was secretary of embassy and chargé d’affaires at Lisbon, when Lord St. Vincent was there in 1806, and though attached to the French Government of that time, acted always in an honourable manner. He is now one of the secretaries of embassy and consul-general.
In the evening there was a very good party, and a man named Kalkbrenner[[26]] played very finely on the pianoforte. Baron Montalembert and M. de Rayneval sang an Italian and a French duet. They are both excellent musicians, and sing particularly well. I saw no riot in the streets, going or coming, but met many soldiers, and all night I heard the trampling of cavalry. The 10th Hussars, as well as several other regiments, are come to guard the metropolis. Madame de Lieven told me Miss Mercer Elphinstone returned this morning from Cranbourne, where she had been staying some days. She left Princess Charlotte by no means well.
10th.—I saw Lady Cardigan, Miss Rainsford, Mrs. Anderson, and others. Reports are spread of coalheavers coming in large bodies to town, of Bonaparte having escaped from the island of Elba[[27]] with eleven hundred followers, and going to the south of France, with other alarming stories, for which there is probably no foundation. London is full of soldiers. The depôt is in Manchester-square, and Bedford-square[[28]] looks like a “place d’armes.” People are so full of these riots that very little mention is made of the failure at New Orleans.
11th.—The account of Bonaparte landing at Frejus is confirmed; and it is added that he has been joined by Masséna and Augereau, but the only official intelligence is his landing. The King has published an edict declaring him a traitor and a rebel,[[29]] and the Duke de Berri and the Duke d’Orleans are gone against him.
12th.—It appears that Bonaparte landed at Cannes, near Antibes, and that he has not been joined by any one; that the great towns have shown the most loyal spirit; and that Masséna has written a letter to Paris in the same sense; that Bonaparte is now (or was when the last accounts came away) taking the road of Digny and Gap in Haut Dauphiné. The King of France has written a very satisfactory letter to the Regent. I dined at Lady Downshire’s, where I met the Macclesfields, Talbots, and some more, all of whom seemed to be of opinion that Bonaparte’s invasion was not to be considered of serious consequence.
13th.—I called on Lady Louisa Stuart, and dined early at Mr. Hallam’s, after which we went to Drury Lane Theatre, to see the performance of “Richard the Second,” a play which has just been revived after not having been acted for a hundred years. Kean[[30]] is greatly admired, but his figure and voice are so bad that his mode of speaking and gesticulations suffer considerable disadvantage.