It was in London, in 1822, that I wrote the longest successive instalment of my Memoirs, containing my voyage to America, my return to France, my marriage, my crossing to Paris, my emigration to Germany with my brother, and my residence and misfortunes in England from 1793 to 1800. There will be found my description of England as it was; and when I revisited it all during my embassy in 1822, the changes which had taken place in the manners and people since 1793, at the century’s end, struck me forcibly; I was naturally drawn to compare what I saw in 1822, with what I had seen during my seven year exile across the Channel.

Thus the things which I would have set down here, under the appropriate dates covering my diplomatic mission, have already been anticipated. The prologue to Book VI told you of my emotion, the feelings recalled by the sight of those places dear to my memory; but perhaps you have not read that book? You have done well. It is enough now that I have told you of the place where the gaps which must exist in this present recital of my London embassy have been filled. Behold me then, writing in 1839, among the dead of 1822, and the dead who preceded them in 1793.

In London, in the month of April 1822, I was a hundred and fifty miles from Madame Sutton. I walked in KensingtonPark, bearing my recent impressions, and the distant past of my youth: confusions in time which produced in me confusions of memory; life which consumes itself mingles, like the burning of Corinth, the molten bronze of the statues of the Muses and of Love, the tripods and the tombs.

The parliamentary vacation was in progress when I reached my residence on Portland Place. The Under-Secretary of State, Monsieur Planta, invited me, on behalf of the Marquis of Londonderry, to dinner at North Cray, the noble lord’s estate. That villa, with a large tree before the windows on the garden side, overlooked the meadows; woody undergrowth on the hills distinguished this site from the ordinary English view. Lady Londonderry was very fashionable in her role as a Marchioness and the wife of the Prime Minister.

My despatch of the 12th of April, no.4, details my first meeting with Lord Londonderry; it touched on matters which were to concern me.

‘London, 12th of April 1822.

Monsieur le Vicomte,

I went, the day before yesterday, Wednesday the 10th, to North Cray. I have the honour to send you an account of my conversation with the Marquis of Londonderry. It lasted an hour and a half, before dinner, and we resumed later, but less informally, since we were not alone.

Lord Londonderry first asked for news of the King’s health, with an insistence which visibly declared a political interest; reassured by me on that point, he passed to the government: “It is strengthened,” he said to me. I replied; “It was never weakened, and as it adheres to party, it will remain in control as long as that party dominates the two Chambers.” That led us to discuss the elections: he seemed struck by what I said regarding the advantage of a summer session in order to restore order to the financial year; he had not fully understood till then the state of the matter.

The war between Russia and Turkey then became the subject of our conversation. Lord Londonderry, in speaking to me of soldiers and arms, appeared to me to hold the opinion of our previous government regarding the danger to us represented by massing our troops; I rejected that idea, and maintained that there was nothing to fear by our sending French soldiers into combat; that none would be disloyal faced with the enemy flag; that our army had just been strengthened; that it would be tripled tomorrow, if that were necessary, without the least trouble; that indeed some junior officers might shout “Long Live the Charter!” in their garrisons, but that our grenadiers always shouted “Long Live the King!” on the battlefield.

I do not know if high politics has made Lord Londonderry forget about the slave trade; he said not a word to me about it. Changing the subject, he spoke to me of a message from the President of the United States committing Congress to recognise the independence of the Spanish Colonies. “Commercial interests,” I said, “may draw some benefit from it, but I doubt that political interests will find the same profit in it: there are enough Republican ideas in the world already. To add to the weight of those ideas, is to compromise further the fate of the European monarchies.” Lord Londonderry concurred with me, and said these notable words: “As for us (the English), we are not disposed to recognise revolutionary governments.” Was he being sincere?

It was necessary, Monsieur le Vicomte, to relate so important a conversation to you verbatim. However, we should not mislead ourselves: the English will sooner or later recognise the independence of the Spanish Colonies; public opinion and foreign trade will require it. They have already gone to considerable expense, in the last three years, establishing secret relations with the insurgent provinces north and south of the Isthmus of Panama.

In summary, Monsieur le Vicomte, I found the Marquis of Londonderry a man of intellect, of doubtful frankness perhaps; a man still imbued with the old system of government; a man accustomed to diplomatic subservience and surprised, without being offended, by a nobler mode of speech from France; a man finally who cannot avoid a kind of astonishment in speaking to one of those Royalists who, for the last seven years, have been represented to him as fools or madmen.

I have the honour, etc.’

With these general matters were mixed, as in all embassies, specific transactions. I had to attend to a request from the Duke of Fitzjames, regarding the proceedings of the boat Eliza-Ann, the depredations of Jersey fishermen among the Granville oyster-beds, etc. etc. I regretted being obliged to dedicate a small compartment of my brain to claimants’ dossiers. Though one rummages one’s memory, it is hard to recall Messieurs Usquin, Coppinger, Deliège and Piffre. But, in a few years time, will we be any more well-known than these gentlemen? A certain Monsieur Bonnet having died in America, all the Bonnets in France wrote to me to claim the succession; those tormenters write to me yet! They might have left me in peace, by now. I have replied politely to them that the small accident of the fall of the throne having occurred, I am no longer concerned with all that: they stick tight, and wish to inherit at all costs.

As for the East, it was a matter of recalling the various ambassadors from Constantinople. I foresaw that the English would not follow the actions of the Continental Alliance: I told Monsieur de Montmorency so. The rupture that had been feared between Russia and the Porte did not occur: Alexander’s moderation delayed the event. I expended in this regard a vast amount of to-ing and fro-ing, sagacity and reason; I wrote many despatches, which are mouldering in our archives, giving an account of events that did not happen. I had at least the advantage over my colleagues of placing no importance on my efforts; I saw them, unconcernedly, swallowed in oblivion with all the lost thoughts of men.

Parliament began its session once more on the 17th of April; the King returned on the 18th, and I was presented to him on the 19th. I gave an account of this presentation in my despatch of the 19th; it ended thus:

‘His Majesty, with his rich and varied conversation, did not leave me room to say anything of those matters with which our King has specially entrusted me; but the imminent and favourable opportunity of a fresh audience presents itself.’