gard to the Treaty: 'We do not remonstrate, because we
admit your right to make what treaties you think fit; but we give
you notice, that if any attempt is made to enforce the stipulations
of it against us, we shall not endure it, and you must be prepared
for the consequences.'

[5] The treaty of Unkiar Skelesi.

* * * * *

1834.

Belvoir Castle, January 7th, 1834 {p.046}

[Page Head: BELVOIR CASTLE.]

After many years of delay, I am here since the 3rd, to assist at
the celebration of the Duke of Rutland's birthday. The party is
very large, and sufficiently dull: the Duke of Wellington,
Esterhazy, Matuscewitz, Rokeby, Miss d'Este (afterwards Lady
Truro), and the rest a rabble of fine people, without beauty or
wit among them. The place is certainly very magnificent, and the
position of the castle unrivalled, though the interior is full of
enormous faults, which are wholly irretrievable. This results from
the management of the alterations having been entrusted to the
Duchess and Sir John Thurston (the former of whom had some taste
but no knowledge), and they have consequently made a sad mess of
it. There is immense space wasted, and with great splendour and
some comfort the Castle has been tumbled about until they have
contrived to render it a very indifferent house; no two rooms
communicating, nor even (except the drawing-room and dining-room,
the former of which is seldom or never inhabited) contiguous. The
gallery, though unfinished, is a delightful apartment, and one of
the most comfortable I ever saw. The outside of the Castle is
faulty, but very grand; so grand as to sink criticism in
admiration; and altogether, with its terraces and towers, its
woods and hills, and its boundless prospect over a rich and
fertile country, it is a very noble possession. The Duke lives
here for three or four months, from the end of October till the
end of February or March, on and off, and the establishment is
kept up with extraordinary splendour. In the morning we are roused
by the strains of martial music, and the band (of his regiment of
militia) marches round the terrace, awakening or quickening the
guests with lively airs. All the men hunt or shoot. At dinner
there is a different display of plate every day, and in the
evening some play at whist or amuse themselves as they please, and
some walk about the staircases and corridors to hear the band,