Memorandum on 'The Greville Memoirs,' and on the death of Charles Greville, 1865
On January 7th, 1865, I received from Mr. Greville, I being at Torry Hill, a note requesting me to call on him for a matter, as he expressed it, not very important, but partly of a personal and partly of a literary character. I answered directly that being out of town I could not call immediately, but would not fail to do so as soon as I returned to London.
I returned to London on the afternoon of Monday, the 9th, and called in Bruton Street about 11 A.M. on Tuesday the 10th. I thought Mr. Greville looked thin, but not ill, and he was free from gout. He said, however, that he was seriously unwell in other ways. The truth was (although he did not then tell me so) that he had an effusion of water on the heart. I know not how long it had been coming on; but in the preceding week he had been staying at the Grenfells' at Taplow, where Lady Colvile had the scarlatina. From Taplow he proceeded to Savernake; but Lady Ailesbury had so violent a fear of the infection that she sent a servant to stop Greville's fly on the way from the station to the house, on the ground that she could not receive him. He was therefore compelled to go to sleep at the inn at Marlborough, where, besides being excessively annoyed, he caught a bad cold. The next day he returned to Taplow, saying to Grenfell, 'I come back here because no one will receive me!' and he soon afterwards came back to Bruton Street. This was the history of the malady of which he died; but whether it was brought on by the cold he caught, or by any other cause, I do not know.
When I saw him on the 10th he was in no pain, and apparently not seriously ill. He began by talking about Privy Council affairs; he then gave me an account of the Windham papers, which Mrs. Henry Baring is preparing for publication; but I saw that these were not the subjects on which he wished to see me, and there was evidently a nervousness in his manner as he approached it. At last, sitting down in his easy-chair, he said—'And now I want to speak to you about my own affairs. Reeve, I am getting devilish old, and I think in all probability I have not long to live. I have therefore been considering what I ought to do with the journals I have kept on all important occasions for so many years of my life. They amount, I think, to ninety volumes [Footnote: These are now in the British Museum.], and extend over nearly fifty years. I left off writing them two years ago, finding that since I withdrew from the office I knew less of the course of events. Let us look at them.' He then opened the lower part of a bookcase in which I saw these volumes in a row. He then added, 'Now, will you take charge of them? I have been thinking a great deal of what I can do with them. They contain a good deal of curious matter, as you know, which may be of interest hereafter. I can do nothing better than leave them in your hands. You will be the judge whether any part of them, and what, can be published.'
To this I replied, that I was very much touched by so great a mark of his confidence and friendship; that as for the journals, he was quite right in supposing that I should set as much store by them as he did himself, and that in whatever I did with them hereafter, I should conform to what I might suppose to be his wishes; that it appeared to me that a broad distinction exists between the earlier half, including the reigns of George IV. and William IV., and the latter half, subsequent to the Queen's accession, and that if the former part might to a certain extent be published soon, the other part could not. That the person I should naturally consult in such a trust would be Lord Clarendon; but that at present it was not necessary to take any steps, as I hoped he would still be with us some years; that I would read the journals through, with his permission, and tell him what I thought.
To all this he assented. He said, 'They are all full of Clarendon, who has always been so intimate with me. I will bring you down a dozen of the volumes the first day I go out in my carriage; and if my life should be spared a few years, we will talk them over.'
He then spoke of his letters, particularly of his own letters to the late Duke of Bedford, which had been recently sent back to him. He said he would read them over; that some of them might serve to fill up and complete passages in the journals. To this I remarked, 'Do you mean, then, these letters are to go with the journals?' He replied, 'That requires consideration.' He did not therefore give me any power over the letters.
I was going that day (January 10th) to Ampthill, to see Lord Wensleydale; and on the 14th to the Grove. This led me to say, 'Am I at liberty to mention to Lord Clarendon what has passed on this subject?' He answered 'No. I had rather it should be entirely confidential.' I therefore of course said nothing to anyone.
On Monday, the 16th, I returned to town from the Grove, and went in the evening, about five, to Bruton Street. Lady Sydney and Lady Enfield were with him. He looked somewhat weaker, and complained of total loss of appetite. As soon as the ladies were gone, he resumed the subject of the journals, and immediately said, 'Now you are come back to town, you can take some of them.' He rang for his servant to hold a light to the bookcase, and by his directions I took vols. v., vi., vii., and viii., and carried them home with me. He said he had lent the first four vols. to his brother Henry, but that I should have them soon. He then again said, 'When you have read these, you will see what you think can be published; but as you advance they become more interesting.' I read these volumes nearly through the same evening, beginning from the death of Lord Liverpool.
On Tuesday, January 17th, I returned to Bruton Street about six. He was alone. Another volume of the journals was on the table by him, which he gave me, saying, 'You will find this more interesting'—but this was as I was going away. I told him that I had read the former volumes greedily, and that he had treated George IV. with great severity. He replied, 'What I have said of him is not flattering; but that is what he was.' I then asked him about the passages in cipher. He said he had invented this cipher himself for the purpose of his journal; that he could read it, but nobody else. That he would read to me the passages in cipher if I would bring them to him; but he added, 'For that matter, the truth is the greater part of them had better be omitted, as they relate to things which are better forgotten.' He then mentioned that he had told Henry Greville that 'I was to have the journals.' And I afterwards found that he had intimated his intention to Mr. Baring and I think to Lord Granville.