The Greville Memoirs, Part 1 (of 3), Volume 3 (of 3) / A Journal of the Reigns of King George IV and King William IV

by Charles Greville

1834.

Belvoir Castle, January 7th, 1834

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 BELVOIR CASTLE. 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, which plays the whole evening in the hall. On the Duke’s birthday there was a great feast in the Castle; 200 people dined in the servants’ hall alone, without counting the other tables. We were about forty at dinner. When the cloth was removed, Esterhazy proposed His Grace’s health, who has always a speech prepared in which he returns thanks. This time it was more simple than usual, and not at all bad. To-night there is a ball for the servants, which could not take place on the real birthday, as it fell on a Saturday.

I have had snatches of talk with the Duke of Wellington, and yesterday morning he retired with Matuscewitz, and had a long conference with him. The absolute Courts have a great hankering after the Duke, though their Ministers here can hardly look for his return to office; nor do I believe that if he was to come back he would be found indulgent to the projects of Russia, though he might be disinclined to continue so very intimate as we now are with France. He told me this morning he thought the French King’s speech to his Chambers exceedingly good. He of course disapproves of all our foreign policy, particularly in the Peninsula. He says he sees no daylight whatever through the Portuguese affair. The Spanish may terminate in the success of the Queen, but only by her opposing Liberalism. He is convinced that if she introduces Liberal principles she will be lost. He says that the Spanish Government will be too happy to interfere in the Portuguese contest (as in fact I know that they have offered to do), but that we never can allow this, which besides the consequences of interference (as a principle) would necessarily make Portugal dependent on Spain. Arbuthnot, who is here, told me (and he hears these things from the Duke) that Matuscewitz had expressed the greatest contempt for Palmerston, and not the less for Lord Grey; and that, with regard to the latter, he had been much struck with his ignorance. I do not know on what points he meant, but it must be in history or diplomacy, which I am surprised at, because I thought he was a man of a cultivated mind and general information, who would be found, as far as knowledge goes, competent to any discussion. He likewise said that he found him slow of comprehension.

Belvoir, January 8th, 1834

There was a ball for all the servants and tenants on Monday, which the Duke of Rutland opened with Lady Georgina Fane, and the Duke of Wellington followed with Lady Brownlow. Yesterday half the people went to Belton; it was nearly impossible to get any talk with the Duke. He told me that the Russians were in no hurry to do any overt act in Turkey, and that their policy was as it had always been—to work very gradually. I asked him if he thought they really intended a permanent occupation of Turkey. He said certainly not; that they could not bear the expense of a war, which in that case would ensue; that the difference of the expense between their own and a foreign country was as between 10d. and 4s. a man.

To-day I have been all over this Castle; the arrangements are admirable, and the order and cleanliness of every part of the offices and the magnitude of the establishment are very remarkable, and such as I have never seen elsewhere. This afternoon Gosh [Mr. Arbuthnot] came and sat with me, and talked over all matters, which I have heard from him before, though he has forgotten it, which he well may, for his intellect, never very bright, seems to be almost entirely obscured. I daresay I have put down these things before, but as they are curious scraps of history they may as well go down again. It all relates to the break-up of Lord Grey’s Government in ’32, and the abortive attempts of the Duke to form an administration.

The King had given his word that he had never promised to make a single peer. Doubts arose whether he had not told a lie; they pressed him on this point (Wellington and Lyndhurst); he persisted in his denial, upon which they requested Taylor might be sent for, and all the correspondence produced, when they found he was pledged up to the throat, and without reserve. The King then attempted to get out of it by saying he had consented to call up the sons of DUKE OF WELLINGTON AND MR. PEEL. Scotch peers and give to Irish peers English peerages, which he did not consider a creation of peers!

When the Duke accepted the commission to form a Government, it was resolved to prorogue Parliament, and Lyndhurst was desired by the King to go to Lord Grey and tell him such was his pleasure. Lyndhurst forgot it! In after times, those who write the history of these days will probably discuss the conduct of the great actors, and it will not fail to be matter of surprise that such an obvious expedient was not resorted to, in order to suspend violent discussions. Among the various reasons that will be imagined and suggested, I doubt if it will occur to anybody that the real reason was that it was forgotten.

Arbuthnot says they know that Lyndhurst was intriguing with the Whigs when the Duke was turned out in ’30, and that it had been settled that he was to remain their Chancellor; and so he would have been if Brougham would have consented to be Attorney-General, and had not run restive, and given clear indications of his resolution to destroy the Government if he was left out of it. He says that notwithstanding the duplicity of Peel’s conduct in 1832, he and the Duke are always on good terms, and no great question is ever agitated without Peel’s coming to the Duke and talking it over with him; that Peel is determined to have nothing to do with the Whigs, and told him (Arbuthnot) so very lately, but the High Tories are just as unmanageable as ever. Chandos came to the Duke the other day, and told him he thought they ought to get up petitions against the malt tax. The Duke said he would countenance no such thing; that he thought the revenue of the country should be supported; for if it failed, recourse must be had to a property tax, which would fall on the aristocracy; and so he persuaded him to let the malt tax alone.

January 26th, 1834

I left Belvoir on Friday, the 10th, and went to Mrs. Arkwright’s,[6] at Stoke, where I found nobody but her own family. I was well enough amused for two days with her original conversation and her singing, and her cousin, Miss Twiss, who, with a face of uncommon plainness and the voice of a man, is sensible and well informed. Then they both liked to have me, and that is a great charm; a little agreeableness goes a great way in the Peak, and it is not difficult to procure a triumph to one’s vanity from people who, with a good deal of power of appreciation, have very little opportunity for comparison, and are therefore easily satisfied. Arkwright told me that it was reported by those who were better informed than himself of his father’s circumstances, that he is worth from seven to eight millions. His grandfather began life as a barber, invented some machinery, got a patent, and made a fortune. His son gave him offence by a marriage which he disapproved of, and he quarrelled with him, but gave him a mill. Arkwright, the son, saw nothing of his father for many years, but by industry and ability accumulated great wealth. When Sir Richard served as Sheriff, his son thought it right to go out with the other gentlemen of the county to meet him, and the old gentleman was struck with his handsome equipage, and asked to whom it belonged. Upon being informed, he sought a reconciliation with him, and was astonished to find that his son was as rich as himself. From that time they continued on good terms, and at his death he bequeathed him the bulk of his property.

[6] [Mrs. Arkwright was a Kemble by birth, and had much of the musical and dramatic genius of that gifted family. Her singing was most touching, and some of her musical compositions were full of originality and expression.]

Mrs. Arkwright told me the curious story of Sir Thomas Lawrence’s engagements with her two cousins, the daughters of Mrs. Siddons. They were two sisters, one tall and very handsome, the other little, without remarkable beauty, but very clever and agreeable. He fell in love with the first, and they were engaged to be married. Of course under such circumstances he lived constantly and freely in the house, and after some time the superior intelligence of the clever sister changed the current of his passion, and she supplanted the handsome one in the affection of the artist. They concealed the double treachery, but one day a note which was intended for his new love fell into the hands of the old love, A MURDER NEAR RUNTON. who, never doubting it was for herself, opened it, and discovered the fatal truth. From that time she drooped, sickened, and shortly after died. On her deathbed she exacted a promise from her sister that she would never marry Lawrence, who firmly adhered to it. He continued his relations with her with more or less intimacy up to the period of her death, the date of which I do not recollect.

From Stoke I went on Monday, 13th, to Drakelow, which Sir Roger Gresley has lent to Craufurd, and stayed there two nights. It is a miserable place, with the Trent running under the windows, and Lord Anglesey’s land close to the door. Thence on Wednesday to Runton Abbey—Lord Lichfield’s—who has added to it a farm-house, and made a residence in the midst of his property, where he has the best shooting in England. He and I went out the day after I got there, and killed 41 pheasants, 74 hares, 24 rabbits, 8 woodcocks, and 8 partridges. He is a fine fellow, with an excellent disposition, liberal, hospitable, frank and gay, quick and intelligent, without cultivation, extravagant and imprudent, with considerable aptitude for business; between spending and speculating, buying property in one place, selling in another, and declining to sell in a third, he has half ruined a noble estate.

Just before I got there a murder had been committed close to his house under very curious circumstances, of which some notice appeared in the newspapers. A soldier in the Artillery got a legacy of 500ℓ., with which he bought his discharge, went down to the village near Runton, and took a very pretty girl of indifferent character to live with him. He gave her shawls and trinkets, and spent a good deal of money on her. Having addicted himself immoderately to drink, he soon spent all his money, and, to supply himself with the means of getting drunk, he began robbing his mistress of the articles he had given her. It happened that about this time somebody in the village who had been robbed consulted a cunning man of great repute in the neighbourhood, and so alarmed was the thief at the bare idea of what this oracle might utter, that the stolen property was secretly restored. The girl upon hearing of this restitution resolved to have recourse to the cunning man, and invited her lover to escort her to his abode. After endeavouring in vain to dissuade her they set out together, but he was so overcome with terror as he went along that he stopped short in the road and refused to proceed. On this the girl said that it was easy to see who was the thief, and that the reason he would not face the conjuror was that he was conscious of his own guilt. Upon this they fell to high words, then to blows, and he finished by murdering her. He did not attempt to escape, but repaired to a public-house, where he was soon after taken into custody. He acknowledged the crime, and said he was weary of life, and deserved to be hanged. Here is an example of the miserable effects of good fortune upon a man who was unfit to use it, and of the strange superstition of the common people. The murderer will be tried at the next assizes.

I stayed at Runton till Sunday, 19th, when I came here,[7] where there was nobody but the family and Ralph Sneyd. The place is exceedingly beautiful, and arranged with excellent taste. It has been very agreeable. Lady Harrowby is superior to all the women I have ever known; ‘her talk is so crisp,’ as Luttrell once said of her. She has no imagination, no invention, no eloquence, no deep reading or retentive memory, but a noble, straightforward, independent character, a sound and vigorous understanding, penetration, judgment, taste. She is perfectly natural, open and sincere, loves conversation and social enjoyment; with her intimate friends there is an abandon and unreserved communion of thoughts, feelings, and opinions which renders her society delightful. Of all the women I ever saw she unites the most masculine mind with the most feminine heart. Lord Harrowby[8] has all the requisites of disagreeableness, a tart, short, provoking manner, with manners at once pert and CHARACTER OF LORD HARROWBY. rigid; but he is full of information, and if made the best of may yield a good deal of desirable knowledge. Though not illiberal in politics, he has fallen into the high Tory despondency about the prospects of the country, and anticipates every evil that the most timid alarmist can suggest. Still, justice should be rendered to Lord Harrowby; a purer and more disinterested statesman never existed. He was always devoid of selfishness and ambition, honourable and conscientious to a degree which rendered him incapable of a sordid or oblique action. Always acute, but sometimes crotchety, he had the same fault in politics which was the reproach of Lord Eldon in law—indecision; and this in no small degree impaired both his efficacy and his authority. His great idol was Pitt, and, after him, he was the friend and admirer of Perceval. Bred in their school, and a Tory by taste, by habit, and in opinion, it is not a little to his honour that he was able to comprehend the mighty changes which time and circumstances had effected, and to perceive that an inflexible adherence to high Tory maxims was dangerous, because their practical operation was no longer possible; but justice must be rendered to him hereafter, for he will never obtain it in his own time. By endeavouring to steer between two great and exasperated factions he became thoroughly obnoxious to both. After having refused the post of Prime Minister, no one can doubt the sincerity of his desire to retire from public life, and in the consciousness of rectitude, the disgust of parties, and a calm and dignified philosophy, he finds ample consolation for all the obloquy with which he has been assailed.

[7] [This must have been written at Sandon, Lord Harrowby’s seat in Staffordshire, but the entry is not dated.]

[8] [Dudley Ryder, second Baron and first Earl of Harrowby, born in 1762; married in 1795 Susan, a daughter of the Marquis of Stafford.]

Burghley, January 28th, 1834

Came here yesterday, and found Lady Clinton, Lady Frederic Bentinck, Lyne Stephens and Irby, not amusing. Captain Spencer came to-day. I had almost forgotten the house, which is surprisingly grand in all respects, though the living rooms are not numerous or handsome enough. I just missed Peel, who went to Belvoir yesterday. I heard wonderful things of railroads and steam when I was in Staffordshire, yet by the time anybody reads what I now write (if anybody ever does), how they will smile perhaps at what I gape and stare at, and call wonderful, with such accelerated velocity do we move on. Stephenson, the great engineer, told Lichfield that he had travelled on the Manchester and Liverpool railroad for many miles at the rate of a mile a minute, that his doubt was not how fast his engines could be made to go, but at what pace it would be proper to stop, that he could make them travel with greater speed than any bird can cleave the air, and that he had ascertained that 400 miles an hour was the extreme velocity which the human frame could endure, at which it could move and exist.

February 1st, 1834

Lord Wharncliffe has been here and is gone. He, like Harrowby, is very dismal about the prospects of the country, and thinks we are gravitating towards a revolution. He says that the constituency of the great towns is composed of ultra-Radicals, and that no gentleman with really independent and conservative principles can sit for them, that the great majority of the manufacturers and of the respectable persons of the middle class are moderate, and hostile to subversion and violent measures, but that their influence is overwhelmed by the numerical strength of the low voters, who want to go all lengths. He says that he has received greater marks of deference and respect in his own county, and especially at Sheffield, where a short time ago he would have been in danger of being torn in pieces, than he ever experienced, but that he could no more bring a son in for Sheffield than he could fly in the air. Sir John Beckett is just gone to stand for Leeds, and certainly the catechism to which he was there forced to submit is very ominous. A seat in the House of Commons will cease to be an object of ambition to honourable and independent men, if it can only be obtained by cringing and servility to the rabble of great towns, and when it shall be established that the member is to be a slave, bound hand and foot by pledges, and responsible for every vote he gives to masters who are equally tyrannical and unreasonable. I know nothing more difficult than to form a satisfactory opinion upon the real state and prospects of the country amidst the conflicting STATE OF SPAIN. prejudices and impressions of individuals of different parties and persuasions, and there are so many circumstances that tell different ways, that at this moment my judgment is entirely suspended on the subject.

George Villiers gave a deplorable account of the state of Spain, but he (unlike the Duke of Wellington) thinks that the only chance of safety for the Queen is to make common cause with the Liberals. He has been greatly instrumental to Zea’s removal, having conveyed to the Queen Regent that England by no means considered his continuance in the Ministry indispensable, and this intimation, together with the storm which assailed him from all parts, determined her to dismiss him. Palmerston has never written to George Villiers once since October. I heard the same thing of him in some other case, I forget which.

February 6th, 1834

Returned to town yesterday from Newmarket, which I took in my way from Burghley. Parliament had opened the day before, with a long nothingy (a word I have coined) speech from the throne, in which the most remarkable points were a violent declaration against O’Connell, that is, against Irish agitation, and strong expressions of amity with France. It is comical to compare the language of the very silly old gentleman who wears the crown, in his convivial moments, and in the openness of his heart, with that which his Ministers cram into his mouth, each sentiment being uttered with equal energy and apparent sincerity. Lord Grey is said to have made a very good speech on the Address. The House of Commons has commenced with all the dulness imaginable, but it was enlivened last night by a squabble on the Hill and Sheil business[9] (dragged on by O’Connell), and the ultimate arrest of Althorp and Sheil by the Serjeant-at-arms, a very foolish affair, which must end as it began, in much declaiming and swearing, and no positive conviction, though complete moral certitude. It afforded much amusement, as everything personal does. The present expectation is that the session will go off rather quietly.

[9] [Mr. Hill, a member of Parliament, had stated in a speech that some of the Irish members most vehemently opposed to the Coercion Bill in the House of Commons had nevertheless privately stated to members of the Government that they were glad the Act should be renewed. This charge was denied with great heat by the Irish members in the House when Parliament met. But upon Mr. Sheil’s calling upon Lord Althorp to state whether he was one of the members alluded to, Lord Althorp replied that the honourable gentleman was one of them. Sheil immediately denied it in the most solemn and emphatic terms; and as it was feared that a hostile meeting might ensue between him and Lord Althorp, they were both taken into custody by the Serjeant-at-arms. Further explanations ensued, and Lord Althorp subsequently withdrew the charge, stating that he believed Mr. Sheil’s asseveration, and that he must himself have been misinformed.]

February 13th, 1834

It is observed by everybody that there never was a session of Parliament which opened with such an appearance of apathy as this. After the violent excitement which has almost incessantly prevailed for the last two years or more, men’s minds seem exhausted, and though the undergrowl of political rancour is still heard, and a feeble cry of the Church is in danger, on the whole there is less bitterness and animosity, and a tolerably fair promise that things will go on in a smooth and even course. The storm that impended over Europe has blown off, and there seems to be no danger of any interruption of the peace. Esterhazy and Madame de Lieven both told me last night that they thought so now, and the former that he had told Palmerston that we might rely upon Austria’s not being an indifferent spectator of the political conduct of Russia, and if we would place confidence in them, they would not only prevent any dangerous aggression on the part of Russia in Europe, but would take such measures as should contribute largely to the security of our Eastern dominions, though that was no object of immediate interest to them. Madame de Lieven told me that it was impossible to describe the contempt as well as dislike which the whole corps diplomatique had for Palmerston, and pointing to Talleyrand, who was sitting close by, ‘surtout lui.’ They have the meanest opinion of his capacity, and his manners are the reverse of conciliatory. She cannot imagine how his colleagues bear with him, and Lord Grey supports him vehemently. The only friend he has in the UNPOPULARITY OF LORD PALMERSTON. cabinet is Graham, who has no weight. His unpopularity in his own office is quite as great as it is among the foreign ministers, and he does nothing, so that they do not make up in respect for what they want in inclination. George Villiers complains that for above three months he has not received a single line from him, and he is a young minister, unpractised in the profession, to whom is committed the most delicate and difficult mission in Europe. He spends his time in making love to Mrs. P—— whom he takes to the House of Commons to hear speeches which he does not make, and where he exhibits his conquest, and certainly it is the best of his exploits, but what a successor of Canning, whom by the way he affects to imitate. What would be Canning’s indignation if he could look from his grave and see these new Reformers, who ape him in his worst qualities, and who blunder and bluster in the seat which he once filled with such glory and success. It must be owned that we are in a curious condition, and if the character of the Government, moral and intellectual, be analysed, it will exhibit a very astonishing result: with a great deal of loose talent of one sort or another scattered about it, but mixed with so much alloy, that, compounded as it is, the metal seems very base. However, we are not likely to get anything better, and these people will very likely hammer on tolerably well.

Since Parliament met, the foolish business of Sheil and Hill has been the sole topic of discussion, to the unspeakable disgust of every sensible person in and out of the House. All feel the embarrassment, the ridicule, the disgrace of such an occupation, and the members of Parliament are provoked that the affair was not strangled at the outset. The Speaker is now generally blamed for not having prevented Althorp from answering O’Connell’s question, which he ought to have done, at least ought to have warned the House of the consequences, when undoubtedly the matter would have been stifled. They say Althorp did what he had to do very well, like a gentleman and man of honour, and in excellent style and taste, though many think he need not have said so much. The committee began to sit yesterday; it was not a secret committee, but they agreed to request members not to come in; however, the tail would go in, and they found it would be a difficult matter to exclude them, for which reason, and because Sheil had no friend on the committee, they unanimously agreed that the House should be invited to add O’Connell to it, and after some difficulty raised by John Russell, this was consented to.

February 14th, 1834

Last night at Miss Berry’s met Mrs. Somerville, the great mathematician. I had been reading in the morning Sedgwick’s sermon on education, in which he talks of Whewell, Airy, and Mrs. Somerville, mentioning her as one of the great luminaries of the present day. The subject of astronomy is so sublime that one shrinks into a sense of nothingness in contemplating it, and can’t help regarding those who have mastered the mighty process and advanced the limits of the science as beings of another order. I could not then take my eyes off this woman, with a feeling of surprise and something like incredulity, all involuntary and very foolish; but to see a mincing, smirking person, fan in hand, gliding about the room, talking nothings and nonsense, and to know that La Place was her plaything and Newton her acquaintance, was too striking a contrast not to torment the brain. It was Newton’s mantle trimmed and flounced by Maradan.

February 17th, 1834

In the House of Commons the Sheil committee came to a sudden termination. It was a silly and discreditable business, and people were glad it ended. The course adopted was this: they took the ‘Examiner’ newspaper, containing the paragraph inculpatory of Sheil, and they called on Hill to prove his case. Hill called witnesses, one of whom, Macaulay, refused to speak. He said he would not repeat what had passed in private conversation. The committee approved, and Hill threw up his case, held out his hand ‘with strong emotion’ to Sheil, made ample apologies, and Sheil was acquitted. Then came the apologies in the House of Commons. Peel told me that he was convinced Sheil really had never said what was imputed to him; but that he said something tantamount, though very loosely, O’CONNELL’S ATTACK ON BARON SMITH. is probable, and the people who had told Althorp would not come forward to bear him out, so that he was forced to apologise too, but he did it very reluctantly. The Irishmen, however, had not done, and O’Dwyer (formerly a reporter) attacked Pease, asked for explanations, his card and address. Pease, who is a Quaker, said ‘he gave no explanations but on his legs in the House of Commons, had no card and no address.’

But there was a more serious matter than Sheil and Hill’s trash—O’Connell’s attack upon Baron Smith, the circumstances of which exemplify the way the House of Commons is managed under Althorp’s auspices, and the general mode of proceeding of the Government there. O’Connell gave notice of a motion for an address to the Crown to remove the Baron. Government resolved to oppose it. Littleton authorised Shaw to write to him and say so, and that he would say nothing in the debate offensive to him, though he could not but disapprove of his charge. Nobody thought of any support the motion would receive beyond that of the tail. The Ministers came down to the House in this mind. Stanley and Graham went away for some purpose or other, and when they came back they found that O’Connell had altered the terms of his motion, and that Althorp, Littleton, and the Solicitor-General had agreed to support it; in short, that O’Connell had laid a trap for them, and they had gone ding-dong into it. Stanley was very angry and much annoyed, but the thing being done he knocked under, and tried to bolster up the business. Graham would not, and in a maudlin, stupid sort of speech declared his opposition, which was honest enough. All this annoyed the Government very much, and now O’Connell is said to be quite satisfied with what he has done, and does not want to have a committee, but (having thrown a slur on the Judge by the vote of Parliament) to let the matter drop. Spring Rice also voted against the Government, and said that he had never known a worse case since he sat in Parliament, and that nothing could be more mischievous than the effect such a vote would produce in Ireland. Scarlett, Peel, and Spankie made very good speeches; Stanley, John Russell, and Campbell as bad.

The same night Althorp made his financial statement, exhibiting a surplus revenue and reduction of taxation, all very flourishing and promising; but in announcing his intended reduction of the House Tax, he said without any disguise that he did not think it an objectionable tax, but that he took it off on account of the clamour against it. Here are three exhibitions in one week, and this is the Minister of our finances and organ of Government in the House of Commons. No matter how he blunders in word or deed, he smiles in dogged good-humour at ridicule or abuse; his intentions are good, his mind is straightforward, and his conscious rectitude, his personal popularity, enable him to commit his blunders with impunity; but the authority of Government suffers in his hands; maxims get into vogue which are incompatible with good and strong government, and the effects of his weakness and facility may be felt long after the cessation of their immediate operation.

February 19th, 1834

Last night Whittle Harvey’s motion on the Pension List. He made admirable speeches; but had a majority of nine against him. This division is not a bad exemplification of the state of parties and of the House of Commons. Some of the Tories voted (in the majority of course), many others would not. I asked one of them (Henry Hope, a man of no consequence, certainly) if he was not going to vote. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I shall not vote, the Government must manage their own business as they can.’ He would not vote against a proposition he must regard with the greatest aversion, because he would thereby be supporting the Government and prefers the chance of giving a victory to the Radicals, establishing a dangerous principle, and doing a great injury to a host of individuals, the greater part of whom are of his own party or among his own friends, because he thinks that the result may be productive of some embarrassment to Ministers. This is one of the cases in which the conduct of Government has been such as their bitterest enemies must applaud, when they risk their popularity to support a very STATE OF THE TORY PARTY. unsightly list of pensions, not granted by themselves, or to their friends, from a sense of justice; and yet these high Tories will not support them even in fighting such a battle as this. On the other hand, the Government reject their support when they might avail themselves of it against the Radicals and ultra-Whigs, in such a case as that of Baron Smith the other night; and so ill blood is constantly increasing between them, while O’Connell and his tail and the Radical blackguards sit by and chuckle at the evils these mutual jealousies and antipathies produce. Richmond told me yesterday that Stanley was greatly annoyed at Baron Smith’s affair; but finding the mischief done, and feeling the embarrassment that would arise from his opposing Althorp, he threw himself into the breach; said he had advised him never to do so again. The conduct of Althorp, Littleton, and Campbell is inconceivable, unless it were to give a fresh triumph to O’Connell (he has just carried Dungarvan, Jacob v. Barron; ‘it is the voice of Jacob but the hand of Esau’), who has had his own way hitherto in this Parliament. In this business and in Sheil’s he has done just what he pleased, and made the Government appear in as pitiful a light as he could possibly desire. O’Dwyer told the Speaker that O’Connell had never expected or even wished that Ministers should give way to him to the extent they did.

Knatchbull has given notice of a motion to reverse the decision for a committee on the case of Baron Smith, and in conjunction with Peel. It must embarrass the Government, but it is not, I think, judicious, because it is not the same question, and affords them the opportunity of treating it on different grounds. In the division last night the three Lennox’s all voted with the minority, brothers of a Cabinet Minister, and all their sisters being on the Pension List. Molyneux was going out, and was forcibly retained by Stanley. It looks as if the whipping in was very unskilfully managed. Notwithstanding the present prosperity and tranquillity, it is impossible not to be disturbed at the mode in which business is conducted in the House of Commons, and at the state and animus of parties, and above all at Althorp being the leader there. His character is peculiarly fitted to do mischief in these times, and his virtues are unfortunate, for they serve to bolster him up, and to keep him where he is in spite of his blunders. His temper is so admirable, his personal popularity so great, that there is an impression that the House will be led by him more easily than by Stanley, who alone, of the present Government, could aspire to that post. Nobody imputes to Althorp a spark of ambition, and ample credit is given him for the most disinterested motives, and for making a great personal sacrifice in retaining his present situation. The consciousness of this makes him comparatively indifferent to victory or defeat, and careless of that nice management which formerly was indispensable in a leader. He seems totally blind to the consequences of his errors, and the advantage that is taken of them by those who not only meditate mischief to the Administration, but to the great interests they are bound to protect. Occurrences and circumstances that would have filled former leaders with vexation, and their followers with dismay, seem to pass over him without ruffling his serenity or alarming his mind. He acts as if in utter unconsciousness of a restless spirit of popular aggrandisement, as if the House of Commons was an innoxious and manageable machine, as if it was sufficient to mean well, and he lets matters take their chance, without any of that vigilant and systematic direction which, if guided by a nice discrimination, might regulate the movements and check the eccentricities of this vast and unruly body. Since the opening of this session, all that he has said and done has proved his utter unfitness for the place he occupies. First, his imprudent answers to O’Connell, and the turn he gave to that affair. Then, in bringing forward his financial statement, the naïveté with which he admitted that he had submitted to the clamour against the House Tax, and withdrawn it contrary to his own judgment; then the facility with which he gave in to O’Connell’s motion about the Irish Judge, and threw over his colleagues and his party without an apparent reason or motive. It produces a LORD ALTHORP’S DEFECTS AS LEADER. feeling allied to despair, all security is at an end, for that which would be produced by his good intentions is destroyed by reflecting on his miserable judgment; half republican in his principles, and incredulous of any danger to be apprehended from the continual increase of popular influences in the House of Commons, he does not perceive how much the authority of a leader is diminished in his hands, and how difficult it will be for any successor of his to gain that sort of ascendency which is indispensable for the effective conduct of public business, and the moral character of the Government. To effect this, besides great talents, great tact, discretion, sagacity, and temper will be required; more, I fear, than fall to the share of Stanley, who is better qualified to be a debater than a leader. Moderate men, who do not approve of this Government, but who do not desire to turn them out, if they would only act upon tolerably conservative principles, are thrown into despair by the behaviour of Althorp, and regard with consternation the inevitable increase of anarchy in the House of Commons, and consequent prevalence of Radical principles, from the sluggish, inert, vacillating, unforeseeing character he displays.[10]

[10] [These remarks made at the time are not altogether just to Lord Althorp, and it is now well known from other sources, equally authentic, that he was more conscious than anyone else was of his own shortcomings, and passionately desirous to be released from office. But it was notorious that the retirement of Lord Althorp from the leadership of the House of Commons would be the signal for the dissolution of Earl Grey’s Government, and so within a few months the result proved.]

February 22nd, 1834

Went to the House of Commons last night, where I have not been for many years. A great change, and hardly a human being whose face I knew. I heard the end of the debate on Chandos’ motion, when Peel gave O’Connell a severe dressing, and I heard the debate on rescinding the order for a committee on Baron Smith. Shaw, who held the Baron’s brief, made a very fine speech, but afforded a memorable example of the danger of saying too much, and of the importance of knowing when to stop. Not contented with a very powerful and eloquent appeal, which he wound up with an energetic peroration, he suffered himself to be led away into a tirade about O’Connell’s enmity to religion, and instead of ending as he might have done with shouts of applause, was coughed and ‘questioned’ to the close. Stanley made a wretched speech; O’Connell very bad, affecting to be moderate, he was only dull. Peel spoke very shortly, but very well indeed. Peel’s is an enviable position; in the prime of life, with an immense fortune, facile princeps in the House of Commons, unshackled by party connections and prejudices, universally regarded as the ablest man, and with (on the whole) a very high character, free from the cares of office, able to devote himself to literature, to politics, or idleness, as the fancy takes him. No matter how unruly the House, how impatient or fatigued, the moment he rises all is silence, and he is sure of being heard with profound attention and respect. This is the enjoyable period of his life, and he must make the most of it, for when time and the hour shall bring about his return to power, his cares and anxieties will begin, and with whatever success his ambition may hereafter be crowned, he will hardly fail to look back with regret to this holiday time of his political career. How free and light he must feel at being liberated from the shackles of his old connections, and at being able to take any part that his sense of his own interests or of the public exigencies may point out! And then the satisfactory consciousness of being by far the most eminent man in the House of Commons, to see and feel the respect he inspires and the consideration he enjoys. It is a melancholy proof of the decadence of ability and eloquence in that House, when Peel is the first, and, except Stanley, almost the only real orator in it. He speaks with great energy, great dexterity—his language is powerful and easy; he reasons well, hits hard, and replies with remarkable promptitude and effect; but he is at an immense distance below the great models of eloquence, Pitt, Fox, and Canning; his voice is not melodious, and it is a little monotonous; his action is very ungraceful, his person and manner are vulgar, and he has certain tricks in his motions which exhibit that vulgarity in a manner almost offensive, and which is only redeemed SIR ROBERT PEEL’S FUTURE. by the real power of his speeches. His great merit consists in his judgment, tact and discretion, his facility, promptitude, thorough knowledge of the assembly he addresses, familiarity with the details of every sort of Parliamentary business, and the great command he has over himself. He never was a great favourite of mine, but I am satisfied that he is the fittest man to be Minister, and I therefore wish to see him return to power. Stanley told me yesterday how very glad they were at having been defeated on Baron Smith’s case, and that they were thereby relieved from a great embarrassment. Times are mightily altered, when such defeats and such scrapes produce no effect upon Government, and when they can go on upon two majorities of 4 and 8 and one defeat.

February 25th, 1834

There has been a meeting at Althorp’s to-day, numerously attended, in which he talked with some effect as it is said, the audience having gone away in a humour to support Government. He took occasion, on somebody hinting at the disunion among themselves, to say that though there might exist differences of opinion on some minor points, he believed there never had existed a Cabinet of which the members were more firmly knit together by private friendship and political concurrence.

It was Methuen who harangued, and who said that the meeting was very unsatisfactory. Althorp began by saying that unless gentlemen would more regularly and consistently support the Government it could not be carried on, when Paul[11] rejoined that the Government did not support itself, and that they seemed divided. Moreover, that when the Chancellor of the Exchequer himself talked with so much doubt and uncertainty about reducing particular taxes, he must not be surprised if everybody tried to get what they could for themselves in the general scramble.

[11] [Paul Methuen, Esq., M.P. for Wiltshire. It was to him that O’Connell made the memorable but somewhat profane retort, ‘Paul, Paul, why persecutest thou me?’]

There are letters from George Villiers to-day (not to me, but to his mother), in which he gives a deplorable account of Spain, that Carlos has a large party in the north, where the Queen’s person is odious, the monks have persuaded the people that she is atheistical and republican, that she has not force enough to crush the rebellion, and what she has is scattered on different points, without being able to make any combined or vigorous efforts, that she has no money. The Cortes is to be assembled, but they (I suppose the Ministers) have rejected all good advice on this subject, and nobody can anticipate the effect that will be produced by 300 or 400 individuals meeting in a legislative capacity. If Miguel had resolved to give effectual aid to Carlos, and dashed into Spain, he might certainly have placed him on the throne, and then secured him as a powerful ally to himself in his own contest. Miguel’s own case he (George Villiers) by no means considers hopeless, thinks him much better off than Pedro was when at Oporto. The stories of the Queen’s[12] gallantries are true. He does not say so totidem verbis, because he does not dare, but he manages to convey as much in answer to a question his mother asked him. He thinks that the great probability is that universal anarchy will convulse that country with civil war of the most destructive character, and that the provinces, kingdoms, and districts will be arrayed against each other. The Carlists of Spain being in the north, and those of France in the south, it is very likely they will endeavour to make common cause, in which case it will be difficult for France not to interfere, so he thinks; so do not I, and am more disposed to believe that Louis Philippe is too prudent to run his head into such a hornet’s nest, and that he will content himself with keeping matters quiet in France, without meddling with the Spanish disputes. He had not yet received any letters from Palmerston.[13]

[12] [Queen Christina the Regent is here meant. Queen Isabella II. was a young child.]

[13] [Within a few days of the date of this note the Ministry of March 1st was formed in France, with M. Thiers (for the first time) at the head of it. The avowed object of that Minister was to induce the King to interfere more actively in Spain in conjunction with England, ‘Nous entraînerons le Roi’ was a boast he was heard to utter. But he utterly failed. Mr. Greville’s prediction turned out to be correct, and in a few months Thiers was again out of office.]

February 26th, 1834

HORNE AND BROUGHAM. Horne, the late Attorney-General, seems likely to fall between the stools. When Brougham proposed to him to take a puisne judgeship, he said he had been an equity lawyer all his life, and had no mind to enter on a course of common law, for which he was not qualified, and proposed that he should not go the circuits, and be Deputy-Speaker of the House of Lords. Brougham told him there would be no difficulty, and then told Lord Grey he had settled it with Horne, but did not tell him what Horne required. The general movement was made, and when Horne desired to see Lord Grey he told him that his terms could not be complied with, so he became a victim to the trickery and shuffling of the Chancellor, who wanted to get him out, and did not care how. I hear that his colleagues are quite aware of all his tricks and his intrigues, and have not the slightest confidence in him. He thinks of nothing but the establishment of political power on the basis of patronage, and accordingly he grasps at all he can. All the commissions of enquiry which are set on foot afford him the means of patronage, but I doubt all will not do. He is emasculated by being in the House of Lords, and he will hardly get anybody to do his business for him in the House of Commons.

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CHAPTER XXIII.

Spain — Russia and Turkey — Sir R. Peel’s Pictures — Peel and Stanley — Lord Brougham’s Judicial Changes — Lord Brougham’s Defence — Admission of Dissenters to the Universities — Lord Denman’s Peerage — Growing Ascendency of Peel — An Apology for Lord Brougham — Personal Reflections — Crime in Dorsetshire — Spain and Portugal — Procession of the Trades’ Unions — Lady Hertford’s Funeral — Petition of the London University for a Charter — Repeal of the Union — Excitement of the King — Brougham and Eldon at the Privy Council — Duke of Wellington’s Aversion to the Whigs — Lord Brougham and Lord Wynford — Fête at Petworth — Lord Brougham’s Conduct on the Pluralities Bill — Crisis in the Cabinet — Prince Lieven recalled — Stanley, Graham, and the Duke of Richmond resign on the Irish Church Bill — History of the Crisis — Ward’s Motion defeated by moving the previous question — Affairs of Portugal — Effects of the late Change — Oxford Commemoration — Peel’s Declaration — Festival in Westminster Abbey — Don Carlos on his way to Spain — Stanley’s ‘Thimble-rig’ Speech — Resignation of Lord Grey — Mr. Greville’s account of the Causes of his Retirement — The Government reconstituted by Lord Melbourne — Lord Duncannon Secretary of State.

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March 12th, 1834

I have been laid up with the gout for the greater part of a fortnight, but went to Newmarket for two days to get well, and succeeded. Weather like summer, nothing particularly new, a long debate on the Corn Laws, which being called an open question, the Ministers voted different ways—that is, all the Cabinet voted one way, but the underlings took their own course. Half the Ruralists are furious with Government for their indecision and way of acting on this question, but I am so totally ignorant upon it that I cannot enter into their indignation, or exactly understand from what it proceeds. It was pretty to see Graham and Poulett Thomson, like two game-cocks got loose from one pen, pecking at and spurring one another. RUSSIA AND TURKEY. Everybody agrees that the debate was very dull, and that is all they do agree upon.

George Villiers writes to his family from Spain, that nothing can be worse and more unpromising than the state of that country. Notwithstanding his Liberal opinions and desire to see a system of constitutional freedom established in the Peninsula, he is obliged to confess that Spain is not fit for such a boon, and that the materials do not exist out of which such a social edifice can be constructed. He regards with dismay and sorrow the tendency towards irremediable confusion and political convulsions, and sees no daylight through the dark prospect. He appears to regret Zea, to whose removal he contributed, and finds more difficulties in dealing with the present Ministers than he had with him.

March 14th, 1834

There is a fresh démêlé with Russia on account of a new treaty concluded by Achmet Pacha at St. Petersburg. By this Russia agrees to remit six millions of the ten which Turkey owes her, and to give up the Principalities, but she keeps the fortress of Silistria and the military road, which gives her complete command over them. The Sultan, ‘not to be outdone in generosity,’ in return for so much, kindly cedes to Russia a slip of sea-coast on the Black Sea, adjoining another portion already ceded by the Treaty of Adrianople as far south as Poti. This territorial acquisition is not considerable in itself, but it embraces the line of communication with Persia, by which we have a vast traffic, and which Russia will be able at any time to interrupt. This new transaction, so quietly and plausibly effected, has thrown our Government into a great rage, and especially his Majesty King William, who insisted upon a dozen ships being sent off forthwith to the Mediterranean. Nothing vigorous, however, has been done, and Palmerston has contented himself with writing to Lord Ponsonby, desiring him to exhort the Sultan not to ratify this treaty, and rather to pay (or more properly, continue to owe) the whole ten millions than accede to the wily proposal. This advice will probably seem more friendly than disinterested, and I have not the slightest idea of the Sultan’s listening to it. He has, in fact, become the vassal of Russia, and his lot is settled in this respect, for from Russia he has most to fear and most to hope. The conduct of our Government in this question, has been marked by nothing but negligence and indecision, vainly blustering and threatening at one moment and tamely submitting and acquiescing at another, ‘willing to wound and yet afraid to strike,’ treating Russia as if she was the formidable foe of Turkey, and allowing her so to act as to make Turkey think her an ally and protectress, and finally to throw herself into Russia’s arms.

I went yesterday morning to Peel’s house, to see his pictures; since we met at Buckenham we have got rather intimate. The fact is that, though I have never been a great admirer of his character, and probably he is not improved in high-mindedness, I am so sensible of his capacity, and of the need in which we stand of him, that I wish to see him again in power, and he is a very agreeable man into the bargain. His collection is excellent, and does honour to his taste. We talked of various matters, but the thing that struck me most was what he said had passed between him and Stanley the night before indicative of such good feeling between them. It was about the job of Lord Plunket’s with regard to the Deanery of Down (concerning which they say there is a very good case; not that it will do, be it ever so good, for Plunket has a bad name, and public opinion will not pause or retract in any concern of his). He and Stanley met at Madame de Lieven’s ball, and Peel said to him, ‘Why did you let that appointment take place?’ Stanley replied, ‘The fact is, I could not give the true and only excuse for Plunket, viz., that he had signed the report, but had never read it.’ Peel said, ‘You had better give him some other deanery and cancel this appointment.’ They talked for a long time, but this tone and this advice exhibit a state of sentiment by no means incompatible with a future union, when matters are ripe for it. I found Peel full of curiosity to know for what purpose Brougham and Denman had been hunting each other about the County of Beds. The Chief Justice was on the circuit at Bedford, and the Chancellor LORD BROUGHAM’S JUDICIAL CHANGES. sent to him by special messenger to appoint a meeting. The Chancellor went to Ampthill, and then to Bedford. The Chief Justice had left Bedford in the morning, and went towards London. Brougham had left his carriage at Ampthill and hired a job one, that he might enter Bedford incognito. Somewhere between Barnet and St. Albans they met, and returned to town together in the Chancellor’s job coach. They went to Lord Grey’s, and the next day Denman returned to the circuit, which he had left without notice to his brother judge or to anybody—a mystery.

March 16th, 1834

Heard last night the explanation of the above. Brougham found that Williams would not do in the Exchequer, so he shuffled up the judges and redealt them. Williams was shoved up to the Common Pleas, Bosanquet sent to the King’s Bench, and James Parke put into the Exchequer. I thought this was odd, because the Exchequer is an inferior court; but I was told that Parke likes to be with Lord Lyndhurst, who has now made the Court of Exchequer of primary importance. 48,000 writs were issued from the Exchequer last year, and only 39,000 from the King’s Bench. I forget what the proportions used to be, but enormously the other way. It is quite ludicrous to talk to any lawyer about the Chancellor; the ridicule and aversion he has excited are universal. They think he has degraded the profession, and his tricks are so palpable, numerous, and mean, that political partiality can neither screen nor defend them. As to the separation of the judicial from the ministerial duties of his office, it is in great measure accomplished without any legislative act, for nobody ever thinks of bringing an original cause into his Court. He has nothing to hear but appeals, which must come before him, and lunacy and other matters, over which he has sole jurisdiction.

March 19th, 1834

The night before last Sheil brought on a debate on the Turkish question, when Palmerston made a wretched speech, and Peel attacked him very smartly, as it is his delight to do, for he dislikes Palmerston. Talleyrand said to me last night, ‘Palmerston a très-bien parlé.’ I told him everybody thought it pitiable. He certainly took care to flatter France and not to offend Russia. In the Lords Brougham took occasion, in replying to some question of Ellenborough’s, to defend himself from the charges which have been brought against him of negligence and incapacity in his judicial office, and he made out a good case for himself as far as industry and despatch are concerned. Nobody ever denied him the merit of the former quality. The virulent attacks of the Tory press (that is, of the ‘Morning Post,’ by Praed, for the ‘Standard’ rather defends him) have overshot their mark, and, though the general opinion of the Bar seems to condemn him as a bad Chancellor, he is probably not near so bad as they endeavour to make him out. A mind so vigorous as his will master difficulties in a short time at which an inferior capacity would in vain hammer away for years; but his life, habits, and turn of mind seem all incompatible with profound law-learning. He said to Sefton, after he had spoken, ‘They had better leave me alone. I was afraid that when Londonderry was gone nobody would attack me, and I did not think Ellenborough would have been damned fool enough.’ They certainly can’t get the best of him at the gab.

George Villiers continues to give a deplorable account of Spanish affairs—of the imbecility of the Government, and of the conduct of the Queen, about whom the stories of gallantry are quite true, and he says it has done irreparable injury to her cause. An embassy had arrived from Pedro, with a proposition that they should concert a combined operation for crushing the Miguelites and the Carlists both, beginning with the former. George Villiers seems to think it feasible, but doubts if the Spanish Government has sufficient energy and courage to undertake such an operation.

March 25th, 1834

Dined with Peel on Saturday; a great dinner with the Duke of Gloucester and the Ambassadors. The day before, in the House of Lords, Lord Grey presented a petition from certain members of the University of Cambridge, praying for the admission of Dissenters to take degrees, which he introduced with a very good speech. The DINNER AT SIR ROBERT PEEL’S. Duke of Gloucester, who, as Chancellor of the University, ought properly to have said whatever there was to say, was not there (in which Silly Billy did a wise thing), so the Duke of Wellington rose to speak in his stead. It may have been that considering himself to stand in the Duke of Gloucester’s shoes, he could not make too foolish a speech, and accordingly he delivered one of those harangues which make men shrug their shoulders with pity or astonishment. It is always a matter of great regret to me when he exposes himself in this manner. After dinner at Peel’s I talked to Lyndhurst about it, who said, ‘Unlucky thing that Chancellorship of Oxford; it will make him commit himself in a very inconvenient manner. The Duke is so very obstinate; if he thought that it was possible to act any longer upon those High Church principles it would be all very well, but you have transferred power to a class of a lower description, and particularly to the great body of Dissenters, and it is obvious that those principles are now out of date; the question is, under the circumstances, What is best to be done?’ Lord Ellenborough entirely threw the Duke over, and made a very good speech, agreeing to the prayer of the petitioners, with the reservation only of certain securities which Lord Grey himself approves of. I dined with him the day following, and he said so, adding at the same time, ‘though I dare say they will consider them as an insult, and make great complaints at their imposition. However, I don’t care for that, and if they don’t choose to accept what is offered them on such conditions, they may go without it.’ There are two things which strike one (at least strike me) in the discussion—that of the two principal actors the Duke of Wellington is incomparably a man of a more vigorous understanding, and of greater firmness, energy, and decision than Lord Grey, but that Lord Grey appears like an accomplished orator, and prudent, sagacious, liberal statesman, while the other exhibits bigoted, narrow-minded views, ignorance almost discreditable, and nothing but a blind zeal in deference to the obstinate prejudices of the academical body with which he has connected himself. Who would imagine (who heard the two men and knew nothing more of them) that the latter is in reality immensely superior to the former in mind and understanding? Nor must it be supposed that the Duke of Wellington, if he came into power, would act in a manner corresponding with his declared opinions. Very far from it; he would do just as he did with regard to the Test Act and the Catholic question, and if he was at the head of the Government, he would calculate what sort and amount of concession it was necessary to make, and would make it, without caring a farthing about the University of Oxford or his own former speeches. The ‘Times’ in its remarks on his speech was very insolent, but excessively droll.

Denman’s peerage is much abused; it is entirely the Chancellor’s doing. Denman has no fortune and a feeble son to succeed him, and it was hoped that the practice of making all the Chief Justices Peers would have been discontinued in his person. Brougham wrote to Lyndhurst, ostensibly to inform him of this event, but really to apologise for the misstatements he had made in his speech about the business he (Lyndhurst) had done in the House of Lords and in the Court of Chancery. Lyndhurst said (to me), ‘What nonsense it is. He has done all he could do, and so did his predecessors before him; he has sat as long as he could, and if he has not got through as much business it is because counsel have made longer speeches, for I am told his practice is never to interrupt them, to take away his papers, and come down a few days after and deliver a written judgment.’

On Sunday at dinner at Lord Grey’s I sat next to Charles Grey, who talked of the House of Commons, and said that there could be no question of Peel’s superiority over everybody there, that Stanley had not done so well this session, had displayed so much want of judgment now, as well as formerly, that he was evidently not fit to be leader. He owned that Peel’s conduct was very fair as well as prudent, and said that if his father was to resign, he himself, and he believed many others, would be willing to support a Government headed by Peel. It is remarkable how men’s minds are gradually turning to Peel. I was amused yesterday ADMISSION OF DISSENTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY. with Poulett Thomson, who told me that Peel had been very courteous to him, and that they had some important points of coincidence of opinion; that Peel did not like Graham, Palmerston, or Grant, but to the rest of the Government he was remarkably civil. I think he reckons without his host if he calculates upon Peel’s politeness extending to the offer of a place to our Vice-President in the event of his coming in.

March 29th, 1834

At the beginning of the week there was a discussion in the House of Commons which lasted for three mornings on the Cambridge petition. Spring Rice, O’Connell, Stanley, and Palmerston spoke for it; Goulburn, Inglis, and Peel against it. Old Cobbett made as mischievous a speech as he could to blow the coals between the parties. Peel spoke last, and as usual very well; but several people expected he would have supported it, and have abstained (from prudential motives) from saying anything likely to offend the Dissenters. I expected no such thing; he was not violent, and addressed his argument to the weak parts of his adversaries’ speeches rather than against the general principles of toleration; and I still think that when the great question of concessions to the Dissenters comes to be argued he will not be found in the ranks of their virulent and uncompromising opponents. It would have been an extraordinary thing indeed if he had all of a sudden stood forth in the character of an anti-Churchman, for such he especially would have been considered if he had united himself with the petitioners, and he would have disgusted and alienated all the High Churchmen and High Tories to a degree which must have made a fresh and irreconcilable breach between them. This would not have been judicious in his position, and I am satisfied that he took the most prudent course. I am the more satisfied of it from the circumstance that his speech by no means gave unalloyed pleasure to the ‘Standard,’ which is the organ of the High Church party. I feel it a strange thing to find myself the advocate and admirer of Peel; but there is such a dearth of talent, his superiority is so obvious, and it is so very desirable that something like strength should be infused into the Government, that I am compelled to overlook his faults without being the least blind to them. I ascribe to him no more elevation of character than I did before; but we must take what we can get and make use of the existing materials, and for this reason I watch with anxiety his conduct, because I am persuaded that he is under present circumstances our best and only refuge.

The Vice-Chancellor[1] called on me the other day, and talking over the business that had been done by Brougham, and the recent discussion about it, he said that he had taken the trouble to examine the returns of hearings, decrees, and orders, and he found that there was scarcely a shade of difference between what had been done severally by Eldon, Lyndhurst, and Brougham in equal spaces of time. (Eldon and Lyndhurst had the Bankruptcy business besides.) This is a clear case for the Chancellor, and it is only fair that it should be known. His friends think him much altered in spirits and appearance; he has never shaken off his unhappiness at his brother’s death, to whom he seems to have been tenderly attached. It is only justice to acknowledge his virtues in private life, which are unquestionably conspicuous. I am conscious of having often spoken of him with asperity, and it is some satisfaction to my conscience to do him this justice. When the greatest (I will not say the best) men are often influenced by pique or passion, by a hundred petty feelings which their philosophy cannot silence or their temperament obeys, it is no wonder that we poor wretches who are cast in less perfect moulds should be still more liable to these pernicious influences; and it is only by keeping an habitual watch over our own minds and thoughts, and steadily resolving never to be turned from considerations of justice and truth, that we can hope to walk through life with integrity and impartiality. I believe what I have said of Brougham to be correct in the main—that he is false, tricking, ambitious, and unprincipled, and as such I will show him up when PERSONAL REFLECTIONS. I can—but though I do not like him and he has offended me—that is, has wounded my vanity (the greatest of all offences)—I only feel it the more necessary on that account to be on my guard against my own impressions and prejudices, and to take every opportunity of exhibiting the favourable side of the picture, and render justice to the talents and virtues which cannot be denied him.

[1] [Sir Lancelot Shadwell, Vice-Chancellor of England.]

April 3rd, 1834

Yesterday I was forty years old, an anniversary much too melancholy to think of; and when I reflect how intolerably these forty years have been wasted, how unprofitably spent, how little store laid up for the future, how few the pleasurable recollections of the past, a feeling of pain and humiliation comes across me that makes my cheeks tingle and burn as I write. It is very seldom that I indulge in moralising in this Journal of mine; if anybody ever reads it, what will they care for my feelings and regrets? It is no reason, they will think, that because I have wasted my time they should waste theirs in reading the record of follies which are nothing more than the great mass of the world are every day committing; idleness, vanity, and selfishness are our besetting sins, and we are perpetually whirled about by one or other of them. It is certainly more amusing, both to other people and to myself (when I look back at what I have written), to read the anecdotes and events of the day than all this moral stuff (by which I mean stuff as applied to me, not as being despicable in itself), but every now and then the fancy takes me, and I think I find relief by giving vent on paper to that which I cannot say to anybody. ‘Cela fait partie de cette doctrine intérieure qu’il ne faut jamais communiquer’ (Stendhal). Jam satis est, and I will go to other things—the foreign or domestic scraps I have picked up.

Parliament being en relâche, there are few people in town. William Ponsonby, whom I met the other evening, told me he had just returned from the assizes at Dorchester, where some men had been convicted of illegal association. On the event of this trial, he said, the lower and labouring classes had their eyes fixed, and the conviction was therefore of great consequence; any relaxation of the sentence would have been impossible under the circumstances, and though a great disposition was evinced, partly by the press, by petitions, and by some speeches in Parliament, to get them left off more easily, Melbourne very wisely did not wait for more manifestations, but packed them off, and they are gone. William Ponsonby told me that the demoralisation in that part of the country is very great—the distress not severe, no political disaffection, but a recklessness, a moral obtuseness, exceedingly disgusting. There was a certain trial, or rather case (for the grand jury could not find a bill), in which a woman had murdered a child, got by her son out of a girl who lodged in her cottage. The only evidence by which she could have been convicted would have been that of the son himself, and he refused to speak. The crime went unpunished; but I mention this to introduce what grew out of it. One of the lawyers said that in the course of the investigations which this case had occasioned it had been discovered (though not in a way which admitted of any proofs being adduced and any measures adopted upon it) that there was a woman whose trade was to get rid of bastard children, either by procuring abortions or destroying them when born, and that she had a regular price for either operation.[2] I don’t suppose that the average state of morals is much worse in one county than in another; but it is very remarkable that while education has been more widely diffused than heretofore, and there is a strong Puritanical spirit at work and vast talk about religious observances, there should be such a brutish manifestation of the moral condition of the lower classes, and that they should be apparently so little humanised and reclaimed by either education or religion. In this country all is contrast—contrast between wealth the most enormous and poverty the most wretched, between an excess of sanctity and an atrocity of crime.

[2] [The same thing was proved more than thirty years later, on the trial of Charlotte Winsor, who eventually escaped the fate she deserved on the ground of some legal technicality which was taken up to the House of Lords, and though it was decided against the prisoner, the Government refused, after a considerable lapse of time, to have her executed.]

OXFORD ADDRESS TO THE KING. George Villiers and Howard write equally bad accounts from their respective Courts, neither seeing any hope of the termination of the Peninsular contests, and each of them alike disgusted with the men they have to deal with. Howard says that we could put an end to the Portuguese affair whenever we chose, and that they would submit to British power without thinking it a degradation; that Miguel is not popular in Portugal, but that the priests have made a crusade against Pedro and Liberal principles, and that they drive the peasantry into the Miguelite ranks by the terrors of excommunication; that the only reason why Pedro’s military operations are successful is that he has got an English corps, against which the Portuguese will not fight.

April 21st, 1834

At Buckenham and Newmarket for the last fortnight, and all things forgotten but racing. Seymour Bathurst’s sudden death called me up to town on Tuesday night, to go to Court on Wednesday. Then I saw the Duke of Wellington march up at the head of the Doctors to present the Oxford petition, attired in his academical robes; and as I looked at him thus bedight, and then turned my eyes to his portraits in the pictures of his battles which adorn the walls, I thought how many and various were the parts he had played. He made a great boggling of reading his petition, for it was on a long and broad parchment, and he required both hands to hold it and one to hold his glasses. This is the day for the procession of the Trade Unions, and all London is alive with troops, artillery and police. I don’t suppose anything will happen, and so much has the general alarm of these Unions subsided that there is very little apprehension, though some curiosity to see how it goes off.

April 23rd, 1834

Nothing could go off more quietly than the procession on Monday. There were about 25,000 men, mostly well dressed, no noise or tumult, a vast crowd. It was a failure altogether; Melbourne’s answer was good. They say 250,000 men are enrolled in the Unions, and the slang name for those who won’t belong to them is ‘dungs;’ the intimidation used is great. There was quite as great a crowd assembled yesterday to see old Lady Hertford’s funeral go by. The King sent all the royal carriages, and every other carriage in London was there, I believe—a pompous piece of folly, and the King’s compliment rather a queer one, as the only ground on which she could claim such an honour was that of having been George IV.’s mistress. Brougham made one of his exhibitions in the House of Lords the other night about the Cambridge petition, quizzing the Duke of Gloucester with mock gravity. It was very droll and very witty, I fancy, but very unbecoming his station. Last night O’Connell spoke for five hours on the repeal of the Union.

April 25th, 1834

Yesterday the Privy Council met to hear the London University petition, praying for a charter, and the counter-petitions of Oxford and Cambridge and the medical bodies. The assemblage was rather curious, considering the relative political position of some of the parties. All the Cabinet Ministers were summoned; Lords Grey and Holland were there, the Chancellor, Denman, Lyndhurst, Eldon, the two Archbishops, and the Bishop of London. Old Eldon got a fall as he came into the house and hurt his head. Brougham and the rest were full of civilities and tenderness, but he said ‘it was of no consequence, for the brains had been knocked out long ago.’ Wetherell made an amusing speech, and did not conclude. It is seldom that the sounds of merriment are heard within those walls, but he made the Lords laugh and the gallery too. There were Allen of Holland House and Phillpotts sitting cheek by jowl to hear the discussion.

May 11th, 1834

More than three weeks, and rebus Newmarketianis versatus, I have written nothing. The debate on the repeal of the Union was more remarkable for the length than the excellence of the speeches, except Spring Rice’s, which was both long and good, and Peel’s, the latter supereminently so. O’Connell spoke for five hours and a quarter, and Rice for six hours; each occupied a night, after the manner of American orators. The minority was much smaller than was expected. Since that the only question of consequence in the House of Commons has been the Pension LONDON UNIVERSITY CHARTER. List, on which Government got a larger majority than they had hoped for, and such an one as to set the matter at rest for some time. Peel again spoke very well, and old Byng made a very independent, gentlemanlike speech. Independence now-a-days relates more to constituents than to the governing power. Nobody is suspected of being dependent on the Crown or the Minister, and the question is if a man be independent of the popular cry or of his own constituency.

The King has been exhibiting some symptoms of a disordered mind, not, however, amounting to anything like actual derangement, only morbid irritability and activity—reviewing the Guards and blowing up people at Court. He made the Guards, both horse and foot, perform their evolutions before him; he examined their barracks, clothes, arms, and accoutrements, and had a musket brought to him, that he might show them the way to use it in some new sort of exercise he wanted to introduce; in short, he gave a great deal of trouble and made a fool of himself. He was very angry with Lord de Saumarez for not attending Keat’s funeral, and still more angry because he would begin explaining and apologizing, first at the levee and then at the drawing-room; and he reprehended him very sharply at both places. An explanation afterwards took place through Lord Camden, to whom he said that he was angry because de Saumarez would prate at the levee, when he told him that it was not a proper place for discussing the subject.

The debate at the Council Board terminated after two more days’ speaking. It was tiresome on the whole. Brougham is a bad presiding judge, for he will talk so much to the counsel, and being very anxious to abbreviate the business, he ought to have avoided saying pungent things, which elicited rejoinders and excited heat. The extreme gravity and patient attention of old Eldon struck me forcibly as contrasted with the air of ennui, the frequent and audible yawns, and the flippant and sarcastic interruptions of the Chancellor. Wetherell made a very able speech, which he afterwards published. The most striking incident occurred in an answer of Bickersteth’s to one of the Chancellor’s interruptions. He said, talking of degrees, ‘Pray, Mr. Bickersteth, what is to prevent the London University granting degrees now?’ to which, he replied, ‘The universal scorn and contempt of mankind.’ Brougham said no more; the effect was really fine. There was a little debate upon Portugal in the House of Commons on Friday, in which Palmerston got roughly handled by Baring. A report was believed that Don Carlos had sailed for England, and that an agreement had been concluded between Miguel and Pedro, but it turned out to be false. Nobody, however, doubts that the quadruple alliance will settle the Portuguese business, if not the Spanish.

May 12th, 1834

There was a report yesterday that Palmerston was out and Durham in his place. The latter was under the gallery when Palmerston made that woful exhibition the other night, and must have been well satisfied. I met Peel at dinner yesterday, and after it he talked to me of this report, which he concluded was not true; but he said that Palmerston had seemed bereft of his senses, and that in his speech he had attempted a new line quite unusual with him—that of humour—and anything so miserable he had never heard. He then talked of Stanley; expressed his indignation at hearing O’Connell bepraised by the men he is always vilifying, especially by Stanley himself, of whom he had spoken in the early part of the same night in such terms as these: ‘The honourable gentleman, with his usual disregard of veracity, ...’ and again ‘he attacked him, but took care how he attacked others, who he knew were not restrained by obligations such as he was under to bear with his language;’ in other words, calling him a liar and a coward; and after this Stanley condescended to flatter him and applaud his speech. He said that he had expected better things of Stanley, and was really distressed to hear it.

I dined with the Duke of Wellington on Saturday. Arbuthnot was there, and he said the Duke is in a state of unutterable disgust with the present Government and their proceedings, particularly with their foreign policy, which he fancies they shape in systematic and wilful opposition to his DUKE OF WELLINGTON AND THE WHIGS. own. This, of course, is merely his imagination, and rather a preposterous notion. He says the Duke does not think well of the state of the country, but that he grasps with eagerness at any symptoms of returning or increasing prosperity, and (what is rather inconsistent with his bad opinion of affairs) he is always telling the foreigners (i.e. the Ambassadors) who talk to him that they will fall into a great error if they think the power or resources of England in any way impaired. His antipathy to the Whigs, is, however, invincible, and of very ancient date, as this proves. Arbuthnot said that he was looking over a box of papers the other day, and hit upon the copy of a letter he had written to Lord Liverpool, by desire of some of his principal colleagues, to dissuade him from quitting office, which, he thought of doing at the time of the first Lady Liverpool’s death. With it there was a scrap on which was written, ‘Taken down from the Duke of Wellington’s own lips;’ and this was an argument that, in the event of his refusing, he (the Duke) should think himself at liberty to join any other party or set of men, but that his great object was to keep the Whigs out of power, as he was convinced that whenever they got in they would ruin the country. Lord Liverpool said that they (The Tories) had been too long in possession of the Government.

May 23rd, 1834

Newmarket, Epsom, and so forth. Nothing remarkably new. In the House of Commons the Poor Law Bill has been going on smoothly; in the House of Lords little of note but one of Brougham’s exhibitions. Old Wynford brought in a very absurd Bill for the better observance of the Sabbath (an old sinner he, who never cared three straws for the Sabbath), which Brougham attacked with excessive virulence and all his powers of ridicule and sarcasm. His speech made everybody laugh, very heartily, but on a division, the Bishops all voting with Wynford, the latter carried the second reading by three in a very thin House. The next day the Chancellor came down with a protest, written in his most pungent style, very smart, but more like a bit of an article in the ‘Edinburgh Review’ than a Parliamentary protest. Wynford was in the House when he entered his protest, and he called out to him, ‘Holloa, Best, look at my protest!’

There is a very strong impression abroad that the King is cracked, and I dare say there is some truth in it. He gets so very choleric, and is so indecent in his wrath. Besides his squabble with old Lord de Saumarez, he broke out the other day at the Exhibition (Somerset House). They were showing him the pictures, and Sir Martin Shee (I believe, but am not sure), pointing out Admiral Napier’s, said, ‘That is one of our naval heroes; to which his Majesty was pleased to reply that if he served him right he should kick him downstairs for so terming him. But the maddest thing of all is what appeared in the ‘Gazette’ of Tuesday—the peerage conferred on ——. She is a disreputable, half-mad woman! he, perhaps, thought it fair to give her this compensation for not being Queen, for he wanted to marry her, and would have done so if the late king would have consented.

On Monday last I went to Petworth, and saw the finest fête that could be given. Lord Egremont has been accustomed some time in the winter to feast the poor of the adjoining parishes (women and children, not men) in the riding-house and tennis court, where they were admitted by relays. His illness prevented the dinner taking place; but when he recovered he was bent upon having it, and, as it was put off till the summer, he had it arranged in the open air, and a fine sight it was; fifty-four tables, each fifty feet long, were placed in a vast semicircle on the lawn before the house. Nothing could be more amusing than to look at the preparations. The tables were all spread with cloths, and plates, and dishes; two great tents were erected in the middle to receive the provisions, which were conveyed in carts, like ammunition. Plum puddings and loaves were piled like cannon balls, and innumerable joints of boiled and roast beef were spread out, while hot joints were prepared in the kitchen, and sent forth as soon as the firing of guns announced the hour of the feast. Tickets were given to the FÊTE AT PETWORTH. inhabitants of a certain district, and the number was about 4,000; but, as many more came, the old Peer could not endure that there should be anybody hungering outside his gates, and he went out himself and ordered the barriers to be taken down and admittance given to all. They think 6,000 were fed. Gentlemen from the neighbourhood carved for them, and waiters were provided from among the peasantry. The food was distributed from the tents and carried off upon hurdles to all parts of the semicircle. A band of music paraded round, playing gay airs. The day was glorious—an unclouded sky and soft southern breeze. Nothing could exceed the pleasure of that fine old fellow; he was in and out of the windows of his room twenty times, enjoying the sight of these poor wretches, all attired in their best, cramming themselves and their brats with as much as they could devour, and snatching a day of relaxation and happiness. After a certain time the women departed, but the park gates were thrown open: all who chose came in, and walked about the shrubbery and up to the windows of the house. At night there was a great display of fireworks, and I should think, at the time they began, not less than 10,000 people were assembled. It was altogether one of the gayest and most beautiful spectacles I ever saw, and there was something affecting in the contemplation of that old man—on the verge of the grave, from which he had only lately been reprieved, with his mind as strong and his heart as warm as ever—rejoicing in the diffusion of happiness and finding keen gratification in relieving the distresses and contributing to the pleasures of the poor. I thought how applicable to him, mutatis mutandis, was that panegyric of Burke’s on the Indian kings: ‘delighting to reign in the dispensation of happiness during the contracted space of human life, strained with all the reachings and graspings of a vivacious mind to extend the dominion of his bounty ... and to perpetuate himself from generation to generation as the guardian, the protector, the nourisher of mankind.’

May 24th, 1834

The Chancellor, who loves to unbosom himself to Sefton because he knows the latter thinks him the finest fellow breathing, tells him that it is nuts to him to be attacked by noble Lords in the Upper House, and that they had better leave him alone if they care for their own hides. Since he loves these assaults, last night he got his bellyful, for he was baited by a dozen at least, and he did not come out of the mêlée so chuckling and happy as usual. The matter related to the Pluralities Bill, which he had introduced some nights before, in an empty House, without giving notice, and after having told many people (the Archbishop of York among others) that there was nothing more to be done that night. In short, he was at his tricks again, lying and shuffling, false and then insolent, and all for no discernible end. The debate exhibits a detail of his misstatements, and of all his wriggling and plunging to get out of the scrape he had got himself into. It is because scarcely any or rather no motive was apparent that it is with difficulty believed that he meant to deceive anybody. But it is in the nature of the man; he cannot go straightforward; some object, no matter how trivial, presents itself to his busy and distempered mind, and he immediately begins to think by what artifice and what underhand work he can bring it about; and thus he exposes himself to the charges of dishonourable conduct without any adequate consideration or cause. He reminds me of the man in ‘Jonathan Wild’ who was a rogue by force of habit, who could not keep his hand out of his neighbour’s pocket though he knew there was nothing in it, nor help cheating at cards though he was aware he should not be paid if he won. It is thought that the exhibition of last night will not be without its influence upon the fate of this Administration.

May 27th, 1834

The Government is on the very brink of dissolution. The Irish Church Bill is the immediate cause, Stanley and Graham standing out against the majority of the Cabinet with regard to the Appropriation clause. Stanley, they think, would have knocked under if Graham had not been very fierce and urged him on to resistance. They attribute all the present bother to Graham, who pleads conscience and religious feelings. It is impossible to guess how it will SPLIT ON THE IRISH CHURCH. end, and there is a terrible turmoil. Stanley was with the King for two hours yesterday. The violent party evidently wish Lord Grey to let Stanley go out, and those who choose to go with him, and to reinforce the Cabinet with Durham, Mulgrave, and that sort of thing, and what they call ‘throw themselves on the House of Commons and the country.’ On the other hand the half-Tories and moderates wish the Government to adopt a moderate tone and course, and seek support from the House of Lords. As to the House of Commons, it is a curious body, supporting the Ministers through thick and thin one day and buffeting them the next. On the Bank question the night before last Althorp was beaten, after imploring everybody to come and support him and making the strangest declarations. I am very sorry that there should be a chance of a split on such a question as the Irish Church, which really is not tenable. His colleagues (or their friends at least) suspect that Graham kicks up this dust with ulterior views, and they think he aims at a junction with Peel—Stanley of course included—and coming into office with a moderate mixed party. It will be a great evil if the Government is broken up just now, but it is quite clear that they cannot go on long; it is a question of months. The Duke of Wellington told me yesterday that he could do nothing, and he will be rather shy of giving to the world a second volume of that old business in which he got so bedevilled two years ago.

The Lievens are recalled, which is a great misfortune to society. She is inconsolable. The pill is gilded well, for he is made governor to the Imperial Prince, the Emperor’s eldest son; but the old story of Stratford Canning, and Palmerston’s obstinate refusal to appoint anybody else, has probably contributed to this change. His colleagues have endeavoured to persuade him to cancel the appointment and name Mulgrave, whom they wish to provide for, but he will not hear of it. I can’t conceive why they don’t let him go out upon it; they would be the gainers in every way. We are now in what is called a mess; the Whigs have put matters in such a condition that they cannot govern the country themselves and that nobody else can govern it either. ‘Time and the hour run through the roughest day.’

May 28th, 1834

On returning from Epsom I heard that Stanley, Graham, and Richmond had resigned, and it was supposed Ripon would follow their example.[3] Althorp adjourned the debate till Monday next. Sefton ‘never was so happy in his life.’ It is a bad sign when he is happy—not meaning to be wicked, only very foolish and violent. I have rarely seen the effects of a neglected education and a vivacious temperament manifested in a more remarkable way than in Sefton, who has naturally a great deal of cleverness, but who, from the above causes and the absence of the habit of moral discipline and of calm and patient reflection, is a fool, and a very mischievous one. They will be forced to put Peers in the vacant places, because nobody can get re-elected. The rotten boroughs now seem not quite such abominations, or at all events they had some compensating advantages.

[3] [The members of the Grey Administration who seceded on the Appropriation Resolution (as it was termed), moved by Mr. Ward, were the Duke of Richmond, Postmaster-General; the Earl of Ripon, Privy Seal; Mr. Stanley, Cabinet Secretary; and Sir James Graham, First Lord of the Admiralty. The Marquis of Conyngham became Postmaster-General, the Earl of Carlisle Privy Seal, Lord Auckland first Lord of the Admiralty, and Mr. Spring Rice Colonial Secretary.]

June 1st, 1834

The arrangements rendered necessary by the recent resignations were pretty quickly made, but they have given universal dissatisfaction. Whigs, Tories, and Radicals join in full cry against them, and the ‘Times,’ in a succession of bitter, vituperative articles, very well done, fires off its contempt and disgust at the paltry patching up of the Cabinet. The most unpopular appears to be Lord Auckland’s appointment, and, though I like him personally, it certainly does appear strange and objectionable. He has neither reputation nor political calibre to entitle him to such an elevation, and his want of urbanity and forbidding manner seem to render him peculiarly unfit for the post they have conferred on him. [Auckland turned out a very popular THE IRISH CHURCH. and, I believe, very good First Lord of the Admiralty. I have heard many praises and not one complaint of him.—December 7th, 1834.] The general opinion is that this Cabinet, so amended, cannot go on long; but as they clearly mean to throw themselves upon the House of Commons, and as the House will at all events support them for the present, they will probably last some time longer; they will at any rate, scramble through this session, and during the recess it will be seen whether they can acquire public confidence and what chance they have of carrying on the government.

After much conversation with Duncannon, Sefton, Mulgrave, and others, I have acquired a tolerably correct understanding of the history of these inconvenient proceedings. The speech of Lord John Russell, to which all this hubbub is attributed, may have somewhat accelerated, but did not produce, the crisis. The difference has long existed in the Cabinet on the subject of the Irish Church, and was well known, for Althorp stated as much last year. Stanley and Graham were both vehemently opposed to any Parliamentary appropriation of the surplus revenues of the Irish Church, but not exactly on the same grounds. Stanley denies the right of Parliament to interfere at all; that is, he asserts that Parliament has no more right to deal with the revenues of the Church than it would have to deal with his estate. Graham does not deny the right, but contends that it is not expedient, that the connexion between the two countries is mainly held together by the Protestant Church, and that any meddling with the Establishment will inevitably lead to its downfall. He stands upon religious grounds. I confess myself to be lost in astonishment at the views they take on this subject; that after swallowing the camel of the Reform Bill, they should strain at the gnats which were perched upon the camel’s back, that they should not have perceived from the first that such reforms as these must inevitably be consequent upon the great measure, and, above all, that the prevalence of public opinion, abstract justice, and the condition of Ireland all loudly call for their adoption. However, such are their opinions, and doubtless very conscientiously entertained. Upon Ward’s motion being announced, it was proposed in the Cabinet that the difficulty should be waived for the present by moving the previous question, and to this the dissentients agreed; but on further investigation they discerned that if this was moved, in all probability it would not be carried, and under these circumstances Stanley proposed at once to resign. In the Cabinet some were for accepting and others for refusing his resignation, and matters remained unsettled when Althorp went down to the House of Commons on the night of Ward’s motion. It was strictly true (as he said) that he was informed while Ward was speaking that they had resigned. The King accepted their resignations at once, and appears to have expressed his opinion that they adopted the proper course, but he told the Duke of Richmond that the four members of the Cabinet who had quitted it were the four whom he liked best of them all. When they were gone it was to be settled how their places were to be supplied. Ellice and Spring Rice were indispensable; the Radicals wanted Durham; the Whigs wanted Radnor, Abercromby, and Hobhouse; Lord Lansdowne was wavering, for he is likewise opposed to any meddling with the Church, though not perhaps to the extent that the seceders are, or to such a degree as to make his resignation imperative. However, he haggled, and they appear to have thought him of consequence enough to bribe him high to remain. He made Durham’s exclusion a sine quâ non, but I believe all the others were equally opposed to his re-admission. Spring Rice and Auckland are Lansdowne’s personal friends and firmest adherents, and their promotion is very agreeable to him (if he did not insist upon it). Mulgrave so entirely expected to come in that he told me on Epsom racecourse on Thursday last that he was to be one of the new Ministers, though he did not know which place he was to have. Great, therefore, was his disgust when they only offered him the Post Office without the Cabinet. He refused it with some indignation, and thinks himself very ill used. I do not yet know what are the reasons which induced them to make the arrangements they HISTORY OF THE CRISIS. have done, and deterred them from applying to any of the above-mentioned men. It certainly has given great disgust, and will not serve to make the Administration more popular than before. Durham is of course furious, and if Abercromby and the others did not expect or desire to come in, they will nevertheless resent being passed over, and in favour of such people.

June 2nd, 1834

Yesterday I dined with Stanley; there was a vast deal of fine company, outs and ins, Richmond, who would not stay in the Post Office, and Mulgrave who would not come into it, Auckland, Palmerston, &c. After dinner Stanley talked to Mulgrave and me about the whole business; he said that above three weeks ago, in consequence of the difference in the Cabinet, which everybody knew, he had pressed his resignation on his colleagues, who refused to take it, that he had agreed to vote for the previous question on Ward’s motion, but they were informed it would not be carried. He then said, ‘Why don’t you take my resignation?’ Still they demurred, and on that day nothing was settled. He then saw the King, who agreed to accept his resignation conditionally, provided Lord Grey could make other arrangements, and desired Stanley to go down to his colleagues and talk it over. He replied that it was too late, that he ought then to be in his place in the House of Commons, as the debate was going on. He went down, saw Lord Grey, settled with him that he should resign, and then sent into the House of Commons to Althorp to let him know that it was so settled. In such hurry, uncertainty, and confusion was this business done. Stanley talked not with acrimony, but with something like contempt of the strange situation in which the Government, and particularly Lord Grey, is placed, and he ‘hoped’ they might be able to go on in a tone which, implied great doubt if they would. He said ‘that Lord Grey continues to preside over a Cabinet which is to a certain degree committed to the principle of a measure of which he disapproves, and he accepts the resignation of the colleagues with whom he agrees; that if in the House of Commons to-night no concession is made to the principle of the measure under discussion, it will appear strange and unaccountable why the seceders have been suffered to go. If any be made, it will be inconsistent with the letter which Lord Grey has just written to Ebrington, in a strain as conservative as the King’s speech to the bishops.’ Thus Lord Grey appears to be tossed on the horns of a very inconvenient dilemma. This speech of the King’s, which Stanley alluded to, has made a great noise, and is matter of considerable triumph to the Conservatives. It is reported in the papers as it was really delivered, except some absurdities with which it was mixed. It is by no means a bad speech, and very decided in its tone; but what matters decision and a peremptory tone from a man so easily led or misled as the King? Lord Grey’s letter was addressed to Ebrington in reply to an address signed by many supporters of Government, and has been lying on the table at Brookes’ for public inspection.

June 3rd, 1834

Lord Althorp summoned a meeting yesterday in Downing Street, which was numerously attended, though some of the usual supporters of Government stayed away as followers of Stanley. He invited them to support the previous question, when there was a good deal of speaking for and against, chiefly among county members, and a good deal of cheering at his saying he hoped he had their confidence; but the meeting broke up without any satisfactory conclusion, and at five o’clock the general impression was that Government would be beaten, and this in spite of a conviction that they would resign if they were. In the morning I met Graham, who said that he did not know whether he and Stanley would speak or not, that they could not support the previous question without repudiating the declaration with which it was to be accompanied, that he considered the question to involve the fate of the Irish Church, and with it the connexion between the two countries. I told him we differed entirely, but that I would not enter upon any argument on the subject; that it was very unfortunate, and I thought the Government would not stand. He said a MR. STANLEY IN OPPOSITION. tremendous contest must ensue upon the great question, and so we parted.

In the evening a very full House. Lord Althorp stated that the King had issued a Commission, or rather extended the powers of one that already existed, for the purpose of effecting the objects contemplated by the resolution, and begged Ward to withdraw his motion. He would not, and then Althorp moved the previous question, which, to the astonishment of everybody, was carried by a very great majority, all the Tories voting with Government. Stanley spoke, and spoke very well, but with considerable acrimony and in a tone which demonstrates the breach between him and his old colleagues to be irreparable. He was vociferously cheered by the Tories, especially at one passage of his speech about a Chancellor of the Exchequer and his clerical budget which, however pungent and smart, appears to me imprudent and worth nothing as argument. I am very sorry he has taken such a line upon this question. His scruples have come too late to be serviceable to the cause he espouses, and all he can do is to fan the flame of religious discord and throw innumerable embarrassments in the way of settling a very difficult question, the ultimate solution of which is no longer doubtful.

June 5th, 1834

The Portuguese business is over—that is, for the present—but Lord William Russell (whom I met at dinner at Richmond the day before yesterday) told me he did not think Pedro would be able to keep possession of the country, and that another revolution would probably take place whenever the foreign troops in his pay were disbanded; the party against him is too strong; he said that nothing but an inconceivable succession of blunders and great want of spirit and enterprise on the part of Miguel could have prevented his success, as at one time he had 70,000 men, while the other had not above 8,000 or 10,000 cooped up in Oporto, which is not a defensible place; that Miguel might at any moment during the contest have put an end to it. The country is in a dreadfully ruined state from frequent exactions and the depression of commerce and cultivation, but Carvalho, Pedro’s Minister of Finance, told Lord William he should have no difficulty with his budget, and could find money to discharge all the claims upon Government. The source from which he expects to derive his assets is the confiscated Church property, which is very great. Money, however, is so plentiful here, that the Portuguese Government have been offered a loan of a million at eighty, which they have declined[4].

[4] [The Quadruple Treaty for the pacification of the Peninsular kingdoms was signed in London on the 22nd of April; and on the 9th of May a decisive battle had been gained by the troops of Don Pedro over those of Don Miguel. Don Carlos and Don Miguel soon afterwards withdrew from the Peninsula.]

June 7th, 1834

I was in the House of Lords last night to hear a long debate on the Commission, when Goderich made a very good speech, defending himself for his resignation and attacking the instrument; like other people, as soon as he got out of office he spoke with greater energy and force. I thought Lord Grey was rather feeble, though energetic enough in declaration and expression. Phillpotts I did not hear, but he was wretchedly bad, they told me. The Chancellor, to the surprise of everyone, made the strongest declaration of his resolution not to permit a fraction of the revenues of the Irish Church to be diverted to Catholic purposes—the purposes, in my mind, to which they ought to be diverted, and to which they in the end must and will be. The Government is now reformed, and will scramble and totter on for some time. Things are not ripe for a change, but people will continue more and more to look for a junction between Peel and Stanley. God forbid, however, that we should have two parties established upon the principles of a religious opposition to each other; it would be the worst of evils, and yet the times appear to threaten something of the sort. There is the gabble of ‘the Church in danger,’ the menacing and sullen disposition of the Dissenters, all armed with new power, and the restless and increasing turbulence of the Catholics, all hating one another, and the elements of discord stirred up first by one and then another.

June 9th, 1834

Melbourne said to me on Saturday night, ‘You DUKE OF WELLINGTON AT OXFORD. know why Brougham made that violent declaration against the Catholics in his speech the other night, don’t you?’ I said, ‘No.’ Then he added, ‘That was for Spring Rice’s election, to please the Dissenters.’ However, Duncannon says he does not believe it was for that object, but certainly thrown out as a sop to the Dissenters generally, who are violently opposed to any provision being made for the Catholic Clergy. Duncannon added that ‘those were his (Brougham’s) opinions as far as he had any, as they were not very strong on any subject.’

June 15th, 1834

Ascot races last week; many people kept away at Oxford, which seems to have been a complete Tory affair, and on the whole a very disgraceful exhibition of bigotry and party spirit; plenty of shouting and that sort of enthusiasm, which is of no value except to the foolish people who were the object of it, and who were quite enraptured.[5] The reception of the Duke, however vociferous, can hardly on reflection have given him much pleasure when he saw Newcastle, Winchelsea, Wetherell, and hoc genus omne as much the objects of idolatry as himself. Peel very wisely would have nothing to do with the concern, and they are probably very angry with him for absenting himself. The resentment he must feel towards the University on account of their conduct to him must afford full scope to all the contempt these proceedings are calculated to excite. There was a vast mob of fine people, Mrs. Arbuthnot among the rest. The Duke made rather indifferent work of his Latin speeches. As usual he seemed quite unconcerned at the applause with which he was greeted; no man ever courted that sort of distinction less.

[5] [The Duke of Wellington was installed as Chancellor of the University of Oxford on the 10th of June.]

June 18th, 1834

Lord Conyngham and George Byng are to be Postmaster and a Lord of Treasury, Abercromby is to be Master of the Mint, and Cutler Fergusson Judge Advocate, appointments sneered and laughed at. When Althorp announced the first in the House of Commons Hume said, ‘God bless us! is it possible?’ Some think Abercromby will be of use to them—that he is grave, practical, industrious, and carries weight in the House. I am unable to discover anything in him, except his consistency, to entitle him to any praise. An odd thing happened to Brougham the other day. He got a note from Althorp while he was sitting in his Court about the insolence and violence of the ‘Times,’ and that its lies and abuse of the Government ought to be put a stop to by some means. The Chancellor tore the note up, and after finishing his business departed. Two hours after Lemarchant got a note from the editor to say that the note had been picked up, put together, and was in his possession. Brougham was furious, and sent to ask the name of the person who gave it, promising to forgive him if it was given up, and threatening if it was not to dismiss every officer in his Court, and not to replace any of them till the culprit was discovered.

June 20th, 1834

The Tories are in arms and eager for the fray. There was a dinner of fifty at the Conservative Club on the 18th (Waterloo day), with healths and speeches, when Peel delivered himself of a speech half an hour long, to which vast importance is attached. People, however, hear things, as they see things, differently. Theodore Hook, who was present, told me ‘it was very satisfactory, a declaration of war; that he announced his having supported the Government while he could from a sense of duty, but that seeing they were resolved to attack the Church, he was prepared to act with, or lead (I forget which), any party which might be formed upon the principle of supporting the Establishment; that the Tories were few in numbers, but strong in character,’ and so on. Vesey Fitzgerald, who was likewise there, said it was no declaration of war whatever—a strong Conservative speech, but not violent in any way, nor indicative of any intended deviation from the course Peel has heretofore pursued. So his acts must show which report is the more correct. When we hear that his speech pleased Chandos and Falmouth, one can’t help believing it must have been somewhat fierce. I have great confidence in Peel’s watchful sagacity, but his game is a very difficult one, and with all his prudence he may make a false step. It is so much his interest to ascertain TORY WARFARE. the real disposition of the country that I am disposed to defer very much to his views and notions of probabilities, otherwise I can with difficulty believe that it is wise in him to encourage and head a High Church party and promote the senseless cry of the Church in danger. It is the contest itself as much as the triumph of any party that is to be deprecated, for nothing is like the exasperation of religious quarrels, and victory is always abused and moderation forgotten, whichever side has the ascendant. Every day, however, it becomes more apparent that this Government cannot last; living as I do with men of all parties, I collect a variety of opinions, some of them intrinsically worth little, except as straws show which way the wind blows, but which satisfy me that the present House of Commons has no great affection for them, and would not have much difficulty in supporting any other Administration that presented a respectable appearance, and would act upon principles at once liberal and moderate. The majority of the members dread a dissolution, knowing that the next elections must be fiercely contested, and be expensive and embarrassing in all ways. Altogether it is difficult to conceive a more unsettled and unsatisfactory state of things, nor one from which it appears more hopeless to emerge. In the state of parties and of the country the one thing needful—a strong Government—appears the one thing that it is impossible to obtain.

June 24th, 1834

Lord Auckland told me the other night that Government are prepared for the Dissenters Bill being thrown out in the House of Lords, and that they don’t care. He thinks it never will be carried, and will be a standing grievance of no great weight. The Chancellor made an admirable speech on secondary punishments, connecting with it the question of education. He told me he was called on to pronounce an essay without any preparation, and he did the best he could. I did not hear it, but was told it was excellent. He shines in this sort of thing; his views are so enlarged and philosophical, and they are expressed in such becoming and beautiful language.

June 26th, 1834

There was a good debate on Monday in the House of Commons on the Irish Tithes Bill. Peel made a very clever speech, attacking the Commission with great felicity, and John Russell made an excellent speech in reply, failing to excuse the Commission, which is inexcusable, but very good upon the question. Both he and Ellice spoke out. I was at the Abbey on Tuesday and yesterday for a performance and a rehearsal of the ‘Messiah.’ The spectacle is very fine, and it is all admirably managed—no crowd or inconvenience, and easy egress and ingress—but the ‘Messiah’ is not so effective as I expected, not so fine as in York Minster; the choruses are admirably performed, but the single voices are miserable—singers of extreme mediocrity, or whose powers are gone; old Bellamy, who was at Handel’s commemoration as a singing boy, Miss Stephens, &c.

June 27th, 1832

Lord William Russell told me last night that his brother John has frequently offered to resign, and they never would let him; at last he said he must speak out on this Church appropriation question, or positively he would not stay in, so that his speech was not blurted out, as I supposed, but was the result of a fixed resolution. This alters the case as far as he is concerned, and it can’t be denied that he was right in thinking it better that Government should make itself clearly understood, and that a break-up was preferable to going on without any real cordiality or concurrence amongst each other and the Administration an object of suspicion to all parties. William Russell said that Government were quite aware that Peel and the Duke could turn them out when they would, but that they would not know what to do next.

Don Carlos is coming to town to Gloucester Lodge. When they told him the Spanish Ambassador (Miraflores) was come to wait upon him, he replied, ‘I have no Ambassador at the Court of London.’ He will not take any money, and he will neither relinquish his claims to the Spanish throne nor move hand or foot in prosecuting them. ‘If chance will have me king, why let chance crown me, without my stir.’ (He was meditating evasion at this time, and got away undiscovered soon after.) They say he can get all the money he wants DON CARLOS ON HIS WAY TO SPAIN. from his partisans in Spain, and that there is no lack of wealth in the country. Strange infatuation when men will spend their blood and their money for such a miserable object. If he had anything like spirit, enterprise, and courage, he would make a fine confusion in Spain, and probably succeed; his departure from the Peninsula and taking refuge here has not caused the war to languish in the north. Admiral Napier is arrived, and has taken a lodging close to him in Portsmouth. Miraflores paid a droll compliment to Madame de Lieven the other night. She was pointing out the various beauties at some ball, and among others Lady Seymour, and asked him if he did not admire her. He said, ‘Elle est trop jeune, trop fraîche,’ and then, with a tender look and squeezing her hand, ‘J’aime les femmes un peu passées.’

July 4th, 1834

The other night Stanley made a fierce speech on Irish tithes, and plainly showed that no reconciliation between him and the Government is feasible. Last night Littleton made a melancholy exhibition with O’Connell. Formerly a Minister must have resigned who cut such a figure; now it is very different, for no matter how unfit a man may be, it is ten to one nobody better can be found to replace him. A more disgraceful affair never was seen; the Tories chuckled, the Government and their friends were disgusted, ashamed, and vexed; Durham sat under the gallery and enjoyed the fun.

I was at Woolwich yesterday to see the yacht in which the Queen is to sail to the Continent. Such luxury and splendour, and such gorgeous preparations. She will sail like Cleopatra down the Cydnus, and though she will have no beautiful boys like Cupids to fan her, she will be attended by Emily Bagot, who is as beautiful as the Mater Cupidinum. She will return to her beggarly country in somewhat different trim from that in which she left it, with all her earls and countesses, equipages, pages, valets, dressers, &c. The Duke of Wellington gave a great ball the other night, and invited all the Ministers. The Chancellor was there till three or four o’clock in the morning, and they say it was very amusing to see the Duke doing the honours to him. The Tories have had a great disappointment in the Finsbury election, which they fancied Pownall was sure of carrying the first day, but Tommy Duncombe beat him hollow the second. It is certainly a great exhibition of Radical strength in that metropolitan district, and may serve to sober the Tories a little, and bring some of them down from their high horses.

July 6th, 1834

When I wrote the above I had not read Stanley’s speech, and had only heard he had used very strong language. I was greatly astonished when I did read it, and fully concur in the nearly universal opinion that, however clever and laughable it may have been, it was a most injudicious and unfortunate exhibition, and is calculated to do him a serious and lasting injury. (This was the famous ‘thimblerig’ speech.) I do not know when I have read or heard so virulent and coarse an invective, and it is rather disgusting than anything else to see such an one fired off at the men with whom he has been acting for some years (up to three weeks ago), with whom he declared his entire concurrence on every other question, from whom he expressed the liveliest regret at separating, and to whom he was individually bound by the strongest ties of friendship and regard. (It will be seen that he made similar professions when he separated from Peel’s Government in ’46, and instantly rushed into a similar opposition.) The Tories cheered him lustily; and what must he on reflection think of such cheers, and of his position in the House—to be halloa’d on by the party which he has hitherto treated with the greatest contempt, and which he thinks the very essence of bigotry and prejudice, at least on all secular matters, against his old friends and colleagues, to whom he is still allied in opinion upon almost every great question of foreign or domestic policy? He availed himself of his knowledge that there was nobody on the Treasury Bench who could answer him to fling out this spiteful and intemperate invective. If Brougham could have been thrown for half an hour into the House, ‘like an eagle into a dovecot,’ what a grand opportunity there would have been for his tremendous sarcasm to vent itself. As it was, Stanley went away unscathed, for though Althorp was STANLEY’S THIMBLERIG SPEECH. not bad in the few words he said with great good-humour, and Littleton made a very tolerable speech, the former twaddled, and the latter has been too much damaged to allow of his saying anything with effect; besides, he quoted a speech of Stanley’s against him (at all times a poor argument) and did not quote the whole of it. I dare say Peel was not very sorry to hear Stanley’s speech, and justly estimated the value of the cheers with which it was hailed. It places him at an immeasurable distance below Peel, and puts an end to any pretensions of rivalship, if he ever entertained any. If a junction is to take place between them, Stanley must be content with a subordinate part; and, act with whomsoever he may, he will never inspire real confidence or conciliate real esteem. I entertain this opinion with regret, and could have wished he had cut a better figure. I dined with a Tory at the ‘Travellers’ yesterday, and he said, ‘Of course we cheered him as loudly as we could; we want to get him, but I must own that it was a very injudicious speech and very unbecoming.’ These are the sort of events in a man’s life which influence his destiny ever after; it is not that his political career will be marred, or that anything can prevent his talents rendering it on the whole important, and probably successful, but there is a revulsion in men’s minds about him, which cannot fail to produce a silent, but in the end a sensible effect upon his fortunes. It is remarkable that Lord Derby, who is a very shrewd and sagacious old man, never would hear of his grandson’s superlative merits, and always in the midst of his triumphs questioned his ultimate success.

July 10th, 1834

Came to town last night from Newmarket, and found things in a fine state. Althorp had resigned three days ago; his resignation was accepted, on which Lord Grey resigned too. Both of them explained in Parliament last night, Lord Grey, as they tell me, in a very moving and gentlemanlike speech, admirably delivered. The Duke of Wellington made a violent attack upon him in reply, which it is thought he might as well have omitted. (The Duke’s speech gave great disgust to many even of his own party, and was afterwards assigned as a reason by Stanley and his friends for not taking office with the Duke.) Nobody knows what is to happen. The King sent for Melbourne, and his nephew, John Ponsonby, told me last night he believed he would endeavour to carry on the Government; but whether he does or not it can’t last; the Whig Government is virtually at an end. The Tories, who were shouting the night before last, are considerably disappointed that the King did not instantly avail himself of Lord Grey’s resignation to send for them, or at least for Peel. I don’t suppose, however, that it is from any predilection for the Whigs that he tries to bolster up this Government, but he is said to have an exceeding horror of a dissolution, and it is just possible he may be acting under some good advice surreptitiously conveyed to him, for under all circumstances I think he is taking the most prudent part he can. It is very essential that he should have no hand in the dissolution of this Cabinet, and if he does his best to reconstruct it, and gives the remaining Ministers a fair trial, he will have a good right to call upon the House of Commons and the country to support him in any ulterior measures that circumstances may compel him to adopt.

Thus Littleton has been the instrument of breaking up this Government; a man powerless to serve his party has contrived to destroy it. It is curious to trace this matter from the outset. When Hobhouse threw up his office and his seat, it was extremely difficult to find a successor to him in the Irish Office, principally because not one man in fifty could procure a seat in Parliament, or his re-election if already there. In this emergency Littleton volunteered his services; he was sure of his seat, and he wanted eventually a peerage, so he wrote to Lord Grey, and said that if he thought him capable of filling the place he would undertake it.[6] Nothing better suggested itself; it was a way out of the CAUSES OF THE RETIREMENT OF LORD GREY. difficulty, and they closed with his offer. No man could be less fit for such a situation; his talents are slender, his manners unpopular, and his vanity considerable. When warned against O’Connell he said, ‘Oh, leave me to manage Dan,’ and manage him he did with a vengeance, and a pretty Tartar he caught. His first attempts at management were exhibited in the business of Baron Smith. When the Coercion question came to be agitated, he thought himself very cunning in beginning a little intrigue without the knowledge of his colleagues, and he wrote to Lord Wellesley for the purpose of prevailing upon him to recommend to the Cabinet that the Bill should pass without the strong clauses, and most unaccountably Lord Wellesley did so.[7] He stated that this omission was desirable on account of circumstances connected with the Government in England, and Lord Wellesley replied that if it was necessary on that account he would contrive to manage matters without the clauses. Upon this he put himself in communication with O’Connell, and never doubting that his and Lord Wellesley’s advice (in accordance as it was with the opinions of certain members of this Cabinet) would prevail, he gave O’Connell those expectations the disappointment of which produced the scene between them in the House of Commons. Lord Grey, however, was equally astonished and dissatisfied with this last recommendation of Lord Wellesley’s, which was directly at variance with the opinion he had given some time before, and he accordingly asked him to explain why he had changed his mind, and requested him to reconsider his latter opinion. He still replied that if it was necessary, he would do without the clauses. Upon this there was a discussion in the Cabinet, and Althorp, Grant, Ellice, Abercromby, and Rice were in a minority, who, however, ultimately gave in to the majority. All this time Littleton went on negotiating with O’Connell,[8] having told Althorp alone that he was doing so, though not telling him all that passed, and neither of them telling Lord Grey. Upon the blow-up which O’Connell made, Althorp very unnecessarily resolved to resign, and when he did Lord Grey followed his example.

[6] [This statement, though doubtless current at the time, is to my certain knowledge entirely inaccurate. Mr. Littleton was confined to his sofa at the time by an accident, and knew little of what was going on. Nobody was more surprised than himself to receive from Lord Grey a spontaneous and unexpected offer of the Chief Secretaryship of Ireland. He was fully aware of the extreme difficulties of the office, which was at that moment perhaps the most important in the Government. With equal modesty and candour he distrusted his own ability to fill it, and he still more distrusted his own want of caution and prudence, which was his weak point. He accepted it, however, to relieve the Government from embarrassment, but he accompanied his acceptance with a declaration to Lord Grey that he would gladly resign his office whenever a better man could be found to fill it. It had previously been offered to Mr. Abercromby, who refused to accept it without a seat in the Cabinet.]

[7] [These details are also far from accurate, as has now been demonstrated by the publication (1872) of Lord Hatherton’s own memoir on the subject, and of the original correspondence, which proves that the letter to Lord Wellesley was written at the instigation of the Lord Chancellor, and that it expressed the deliberate opinions of several members of the Cabinet. It must, however, be acknowledged that it was written without the knowledge of Lord Grey and in opposition to his views. The subsequent communication made by Mr. Littleton to O’Connell was made with the knowledge and concurrence of Lord Althorp, though Mr. Littleton said more to O’Connell than Lord Althorp had intended—an indiscretion which Mr. Littleton himself admitted: but O’Connell made a very base and ungenerous use of the confidence which had been extended to him.]

[8] [Mr. Littleton had but one conversation with O’Connell.]

The Tories have been mighty cock-a-hoop, but their joy is a good deal damped within the last twelve hours, for it is now universally believed that Althorp will be prevailed upon to remain, and will himself be at the head of the Government. His popularity is so great in the House of Commons, and there is such a dread of a dissolution, that if this arrangement takes place they will scramble on some time longer, and at this advanced period of the session it may be doubted whether the House of Lords will throw out any of their essential measures. I met Duncannon, Ellice, and John Russell this evening riding, and they seemed in very good spirits. I have no doubt Ellice and Duncannon have had a main hand in all this business, and that they urged on Littleton to do what he did. The House was adjourned till Monday, to afford time for the new arrangement. Brougham spoke like a maniac last night, and his statements were at direct variance with Althorp’s, the latter declaring that they were all out and the former that they were all still in office, and that Grey and Althorp had alone resigned.

July 12th, 1834

POPULARITY OF LORD ALTHORP. I went out of town yesterday morning, and did not return till seven o’clock; in the meantime affairs were materially altered. I met Duncannon riding with a face as long as the pictures of Hudibras, which at once told the tale of baffled hopes. Melbourne’s negotiation had failed entirely. ‘Jack,’[9] who was backed at even against the field the night before in the House of Commons, would have nothing to say to it. I have not yet heard in detail the circumstances of this failure, but it will probably turn out that the King insisted upon some Conservative conditions, or an attempt at coalition, which is a favourite plan of his. Yesterday it was generally expected that Peel would be sent for, or the Duke of Wellington. Peel called at Apsley House and was with the Duke a long time yesterday, and afterwards, as the Duke rode through the Park, Ellice, who was sitting on his horse talking to Sir Edward Kerrison, said, ‘There goes a man who knows more than he did an hour ago.’ It is expected that Peel, if called upon, will endeavour to form and carry on a Government; but opinions are greatly divided as to the support he would get in the House of Commons, and as to the effect of a dissolution, should he be driven to adopt that hazardous alternative. I think that almost everything depends upon the course which Althorp takes, as far as the rest of this session is concerned. His popularity in the House of Commons is very great, and even surprising; it is a proof of the influence which personal character may obtain when unadorned with great abilities and shining parts; his remarkable bonhommie, unalterable good nature and good temper, the conviction of his honesty and sincerity, and of his want of ambition, his single-mindedness, his unfeigned desire to get out of the trammels and cares of office, have all combined to procure for him greater personal regard, and to a certain degree greater influence, than any Minister ever possessed in my recollection. There is no such feeling as animosity against Althorp. Some detest his principles, some despise his talents, but none detest or despise the man; and he is said by those who are judges of such matters to have one talent, and that is a thorough knowledge of the House of Commons and great quickness and tact in discovering the bias and disposition of the House. If Althorp abstains from any rough opposition, and endeavours to restrain others, upon the principle of giving a fair trial to those who may have taken his place because he would not continue to hold it, it is probable that the majority will avail themselves of such an opportunity for avoiding a dissolution, and give a sulky and suspicious assent to the measures of the new Ministry, for a cordial support cannot be expected. This, however, must depend upon circumstances which are still in nubibus. To-day must, in all probability, decide who is to attempt the task of forming a Government. Stanley, it is supposed, if invited, will not join Peel, at least not at present; all, however, is speculation, curiosity, and excitement.

[9] [The cant name given at the time to John, Lord Althorp.]

July 13th, 1834

All yesterday nothing was done; the King remains very quietly at Windsor, still in communication with Melbourne, and I believe with the Chancellor. He declines talking upon the present state of affairs to anybody. What he wanted was, that some attempt should be made towards a coalition, but this the remaining Ministers would not consent to. Poulett Thomson called on me at my office in the afternoon, and told me that it was by no means true that Althorp would not on any terms take the Government; but that he would not unless he had carte blanche, in which case he could not refuse it; if he did refuse, Thomson added, that everybody ought to support Peel or any Tory Government. He is convinced that if Peel took the Government he would be driven out by the House of Commons instanter, unless he could show that he had done so in consequence of the King being deserted by the present men. I afterwards met Mulgrave, who had been riding with Althorp, who told him that though it would be very disagreeable to him on every account, and especially as regards Lord Grey, he might have it put to him in a way that left him no option. Lord Grey and his friends and family think that he has been extremely ill-used, and they are indignant with all LORD GREY AND STANLEY. the actors in the Littleton affair, and only burning with desire to expose those who are still concealed. Charles Grey talked to me for half an hour in the lobby of the Opera House last night, and said that Lord Wellesley ought to disclose all that was still secret in the transaction, and produce the private letters he had received from England, and by which his opinions and advice had been influenced. Such letters they know were written, and they believe by the Chancellor; this belief, whether it turns out to be true or false, is, I perceive, very general. It is inconceivable what a reputation that man has, and how universally he is distrusted, and despised as much as anybody with such great abilities can be. His political character is about on a par with Whittle Harvey’s moral character; his insolence and swaggering, bullying tone in the House of Lords have excited as much disgust out of the House as they have given offence in it, and the only excuse for him is—what many people believe—that there is a taint of madness about him. The other night, in his reply to the Duke of Wellington’s violent and foolish speech, he chose to turn upon Lord Rolle, a very old man and a choleric, hard-bitten old Tory. Rolle was greatly exasperated, and after he sat down went up to him on the Woolsack and said, ‘My Lord, I wish you to know that I have the greatest contempt for you both in this House and out of it.’

While Lord Grey has been very indignant against the plotters in his Cabinet he has been sorely wounded by the seceders, or rather by the chief of them, Stanley; but this has been all made up in a way soothing enough to his feelings, but not advantageous, though not discreditable, to Stanley. The latter wrote a letter to Lord Grey expressing his deep regret at having said anything to offend him, disclaiming the slightest intention of the kind, pouring forth the warmest protestations of gratitude, veneration, and attachment to him, and finishing by an assurance that he would take office under nobody else. After the gross attack he made it is honourable in him to make such an apology, but it only enhances the folly of his former conduct to find himself placed under the necessity of writing a penitential letter. Lord Grey replied in corresponding terms, and he says they shall be as good friends again as ever, and that Stanley’s speech shall henceforward be forgotten; but it will be very long before the effect produced by it will be forgotten, or that the recollection of it will cease to have an influence on Stanley’s reputation and prospects. His especial friends, the other seceders, were as much annoyed at it as anybody; and the Duchess of Richmond told me that her husband regretted it very bitterly. It is but justice to Richmond to own that he has acted a fair, open, and manly part in this business, and has satisfied all parties. Lord Grey was not annoyed at what passed between them in the House of Lords, and their friendship has never suffered any interruption.

July 15th, 1834

This interval of feverish anxiety has ended by the formation of the Administration being entrusted to Lord Melbourne. He refused to undertake it unless Althorp could stay with him. The King wanted Lord Grey to come back, and spoke to Taylor about it, but he told him it was out of the question, and therefore the King did not propose it, but he has constantly written to him in the most flattering terms, and desired he might be consulted in every step of these proceedings. Lord Grey has acted very cordially towards Melbourne, and pressed Althorp so earnestly to stay that he has consented, and last night the announcements were made to the two Houses. The Tories (the High and foolish) are down in the mouth, but Peel is himself well content not to have been mixed up in the concern. The present conjecture is that Abercromby will go to the Home Office and Durham to Ireland. Nobody thinks the Government will last long, and everybody ‘wonders’ how Melbourne will do it. He is certainly a queer fellow to be Prime Minister, and he and Brougham are two wild chaps to have the destinies of this country in their hands. I should not be surprised if Melbourne was to rouse his dormant energies and be excited by the greatness of his position to display the vigour and decision in which he is not deficient. Unfortunately his LORD DUNCANNON HOME SECRETARY. reputation is not particularly good; he is considered lax in morals, indifferent in religion, and very loose and pliant in politics. He is supposed to have consented to measures of which he disapproved because it suited his ease and convenience to do so, and because he was actuated by no strong political principles or opinions.

July 17th, 1834

Yesterday it was announced that Duncannon is to be Secretary of State and called to the House of Peers; Hobhouse in his place and in the Cabinet, and to stand for Nottingham. This completes the concern; Duncannon Secretary of State! Who could ever have thought of him in such a station? His proper element seemed to be the House of Commons, where he was a bustling, zealous partisan and a very good whipper-in; but he cannot speak at all, and though a tolerably candid talker, his capacity is slender; he has no pretensions of any sort to a high office, and nothing but peculiar circumstances could put him in one; but the difficulty has been how to deal with Durham, for the majority of the Cabinet were decided upon having nothing to do with him, although there were some few who wanted to take him in. By I know not what process of reasoning they arrived at the conclusion that Duncannon’s elevation was the only solution of this difficulty, but so it is, for I believe he would have preferred to stay in his old place. They are all in raptures with the King, and with his straightforward dealing on this occasion. In the first instance he desired Melbourne to write to the Duke, Peel, and Stanley, stating his wish that an Administration should be formed upon a wide and comprehensive plan. He wrote accordingly to each, and with his letters he sent copies of his own letter to the King, in which he gave his opinion that the formation of such a Government was impossible. The Duke and Peel each replied, with expressions of duty, to his Majesty, that they agreed with Lord Melbourne, but did not see any necessity for giving reasons for their opinions. The King, however, desired to have their reasons, which have since been sent to him by them. Stanley wrote a long letter, with a peremptory refusal to form part of any such Government. He appears anxious to pacify the Whigs by disclaiming any intention of connecting himself with the Tories. Though all the Grey family are very indignant, and by no means silent, at the way the Earl has been treated, he has behaved with great temper and forbearance, and has lent his old colleagues his cordial assistance in patching up the broken concern.

July 19th, 1834

Two angry debates in the Lords last night and the night before; I was present at the last, but not at the first. On Thursday Lord Wicklow made a virulent attack on the Government; the Duke of Buckingham was coarse, the Chancellor rabid, and a disgraceful scene of confusion and disorder arose. Melbourne made his first speech, declaration, and explanation, and is thought to have done it very well—a good beginning. Last night Wharncliffe moved for the production of Lord Wellesley’s letter, by which the opinion of the Cabinet had been shaken about the Coercion Bill. Lord Grey made a very handsome speech indeed, throwing his shield over his old colleagues, declaring he neither complained nor had he been ill-used, and entreated that the new Government might be fairly tried, and not embarrassed without cause in the outset. It was certainly the speech of a thorough gentleman, but the case is after all a bad one. The dates show what must have happened. It was on the 20th of June that Mr. Littleton told O’Connell there was a discussion going on in the Cabinet, and that the Coercion Bill was not yet settled. Now on the 20th of June it was settled, but on the 23rd of June came Lord Wellesley’s letter, which unsettled it.[10] It is clear, then, that a communication was made O’CONNELL AND THE COERCION BILL. to Lord Wellesley which it was confidently expected would elicit from him such a letter as would enable the authors of the communication to revive the discussion, and Littleton, not being able to wait for its arrival, anticipated it, and told O’Connell that the discussion was begun before the cause of it was in operation. There certainly never was a more complete underhand intrigue perpetrated than this, and although no official document, or demi-official will now be produced to reveal the name of the prime mover, everybody’s finger is pointed at Brougham, and the young Greys make no secret of their conviction that he is the man. But undoubtedly the greatest evil resulting from the proceedings and the termination of them (in the reconstruction of this Government, with its additions, and the alteration of the Bill) is the vast increase which must be made to the power and authority of O’Connell. He has long been able to make the Irish believe anything he pleases, and he will certainly have no difficulty in persuading them that he himself has brought about this state of things, that he has ousted Lord Grey, introduced Duncannon (who of all the Whigs has been his greatest friend), and expunged the obnoxious clauses from the Coercion Bill, and the fact is that all this is not very far from the truth. Between his dexterity in availing himself of circumstances and his betrayal of Littleton, between the folly of some men and the baseness of others, he has appeared the most prominent character in the drama. Even now I cannot make out why everybody wished the Bill to be thus emasculated, for there would have been no difficulty in passing it through both Houses. To the surprise of everybody Littleton is suffered to keep his place, probably by the protection of Althorp, who may have been as dogged about him on this occasion as he was about the Speakership, and as he is considered (on account of his character) so indispensable in the House of Commons, of course he can make his own terms.[11]

[10] [This again is not accurate. It was on the 23rd of June, after the arrival of Lord Wellesley’s letter, that Mr. Littleton saw O’Connell. The question was still under discussion on that day, and the opinions of different members of the Cabinet were much divided. Those Ministers (including the Chancellor) who were opposed to the renewal of the Coercion Bill in its integrity wished to secure the assent of Lord Wellesley to their views. After the receipt of Lord Wellesley’s letter of the 21st of June both Lord Melbourne and Lord Althorp declared that ‘it was impossible to ask Parliament for an unconstitutional power which the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland had been led to disclaim.’ (See Hatherton’s Memoir, p. 13.) The question was not finally settled till the Cabinet of the 20th of June. Mr. Littleton had been distinctly informed by Lord Althorp, on the same day that he saw O’Connell, that the matter was not settled, and that he (Lord Althorp) would resign rather than allow the disputed clauses to form part of the new Bill.]

[11] [This was so. Lord Althorp positively refused to hold office in the Melbourne Government, unless Mr. Littleton could be prevailed upon to resume and retain his office as Irish Secretary. Nothing could be more honourable to both parties than this conduct of Lord Althorp; but it was due to the fact that he had himself been a party to the communication made by Mr. Littleton to O’Connell, and that he knew Mr. Littleton had been exposed to more censure than he deserved.]

July 20th, 1834

At Court yesterday to swear in Duncannon Secretary of State. He told me he had made Stanley[12] (the man they call Sir Benjamin Backbite, and familiarly Ben) his under-secretary, telling him he must speak, for that he (Duncannon) could not. Auckland and Duncannon will not certainly add much to the oratorical splendour of the Government. Ellice was there, and told me about a grand case the Tories have got hold of against him, growing out of Lord Western’s evidence in Whittle Harvey’s Committee. It there came out that Western had applied to Ellice, then Secretary of the Treasury (at the time of the great Reform election), for money to assist at the Colchester election, and he sent 500ℓ. They want to make out that this was public money, but they won’t catch him. He says several individuals subscribed large sums, which were placed at his disposal to be employed to the best advantage for the cause. He will get out of it. He talked of the Government, said it was a great error to suppose it was inclined to movement principles, and that in point of fact there was very little difference, except on Church matters, between Sir Robert Peel and himself, that there never was so good a House of Commons for the Government, that in all this mess—for mess it was—the Tories could not succeed in getting up a feeling or a prejudice against the Government, and it was clear they were utterly powerless there, that the House only required to be a little cajoled, and was easily led; the word Reform was still potent there, and had only to be uttered on occasions to bring the majority round when they began to show a refractory disposition.

[12] [Afterwards Lord Stanley of Alderney.]

July 21st, 1834

The Chancellor and the Hollands urged Lord Grey to take the Privy Seal. This Sefton told me as a great secret yesterday, but the indignation of the Greys burst through all restraint, and they told it ‘à qui voulait les LORD MELBOURNE’S ADMINISTRATION. entendre,’ with every expression of rage and disgust, ‘adding insult to injury.’ Lord Grey was more philosophical, and rather smiled at the proposition, but he did not repress the pious resentment of his children. The Grey women would murder the Chancellor if they could. It certainly was a curious suggestion. The Hollands think of nothing on earth but how they may best keep the Duchy of Lancaster, and they fancied Lord Grey’s holding the Privy Seal might be of service to the Government, and if they could make him commit such a bassesse so much the better. It is not always easy to discover the Chancellor’s motives, but as he is as vindictive as he is false and tricking, he perhaps took this opportunity of revenging himself for the old offer of the Attorney-Generalship, which he has never forgiven.[13]

[13] [This view of the case is certainly unjust to Lord Brougham, who had more respect and regard for Lord Grey than for any other statesman of the time, as his correspondence with the Earl, now recently published in Brougham’s ‘Posthumous Memoirs’ sufficiently proves.]

[The first Administration of Lord Melbourne was thus constituted:

First Lord of the Treasury	Viscount Melbourne.
Lord Chancellor	Lord Brougham.
Lord President	Marquis of Lansdowne.
Home Secretary	Viscount Duncannon.
Foreign Secretary	Viscount Palmerston.
Colonial Secretary	Mr. Spring Rice.
Chancellor of the Exchequer	Viscount Althorp.
Admiralty	Lord Auckland.
Board of Control	Mr. Charles Grant.
Board of Trade	Mr. Poulett Thomson.
Duchy of Lancaster	Lord Holland.
Paymaster of the Forces	Lord John Russell.
Secretary-at-War	Mr Edward Ellice.
Lord Privy Seal	Earl of Mulgrave.
Postmaster-General	Marquis of Conyngham.
Irish Secretary	Mr. Littleton.]

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CHAPTER XXIV.

Taylor’s ‘Philip van Artevelde’ — Goodwood — Earl Bathurst’s Death — Death of Mrs. Arbuthnot — Overtures to O’Connell — Irish Tithe Bill — Theodore Hook’s Improvisation — Lord Westmeath’s Case in the Privy Council — First Council of Lord Melbourne’s Government and Prorogation — Brougham’s Vagaries — Lord Durham’s Exclusion — The Edinburgh Dinner — Windsor and Meiningen — Spencer Perceval — Lord Grey’s Retirement — The Westmeath Case again — The Queen’s Return — Melbourne and Tom Young — Holland House — Reflections — Conversation on the Poets — Miscellaneous Chat — Lord Melbourne’s Literary Attainments — Lord Holland’s Anecdotes of Great Orators — Execution of Charles I. — Lord Melbourne’s Opinion of Henry VIII. — The ‘Times’ attacks Lord Brougham — His Tour in Scotland — His Unpopularity — Cowper’s Secret — Canning on Reform — Lord Melbourne on Palmerston and Brougham — Canning and Brougham in 1827 — Senior — Lord Melbourne and the Benthamites — His Theology — Spanish Eloquence — The Harley Papers — The Turf — Death of Lord Spencer — The Westmeath Case heard — Law Appointments — Bickersteth — Louis Philippe’s Position.

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July 23rd, 1834

Brougham spoke for four hours on the Poor Law Bill on Monday, and made a luminous speech; Alvanley, to people’s amusement, spoke, and against the Bill; he spoke tolerably well—a grave speech and got compliments.

July 24th, 1834

Read Reeves’ ‘History of English Law,’ finished Henry Taylor’s ‘Van Artevelde,’ and read 250 lines of Virgil. ‘Philip van Artevelde’ is a poem of extraordinary merit, and the offspring of a vigorous and independent mind. The author, who is my particular friend, and for whom I have a sincere regard and a great admiration, took his work to Murray, who gave it to Lockhart to read. Lockhart advised Murray not to publish it, at least at his own risk, but he bestowed great encomiums on the work, and urged Taylor to publish it himself. He did so, without much DEATH AND CHARACTER OF LORD BATHURST. expectation that it would be popular, and has been agreeably surprised to find that in a short space of time a second edition is called for. With the vivacity of a sanguine disposition, and a confidence in the sterling merits of his poem, he now believes that edition will follow edition like wave upon wave, in which I fear he will be disappointed. [When the first edition was all sold, and a second called for, he made up his account with his publisher, and the balance was 37ℓ. against him.—November 29th.]

August 5th, 1834

At Goodwood for the races, so read nothing except half of Jacquemont’s Letters and a little book I picked up, the ‘History of the Grand Vizier Coprogli;’ called to town on Wednesday last for a Council, to swear in Mulgrave Privy Seal; went to Petworth on my way for one night. Stanley was at Goodwood, absorbed in racing, billiards, and what not; nobody would have guessed that all this rough and rustic gaiety covered ambition, eloquence, and powers which must make him one of the most eminent men, though his reputation is not what it was.

While I was there news came of Lord Bathurst’s death. He was a very amiable man and with a good understanding, though his talents were far from brilliant, a High Churchman and a High Tory, but a cool politician, a bad speaker, a good writer, greatly averse to changes, but unwillingly acquiescing in many. He was nervous and reserved, with a good deal of humour, and habitually a jester. His conversation was generally a series of jokes, and he rarely discussed any subject but in a ludicrous vein. His conduct to Napoleon justly incurred odium, for although he was only one of many, he was the Minister through whom the orders of Government passed, and he suffered the principal share of the reproach which was thrown upon the Cabinet for their rude and barbarous treatment of the Emperor at St. Helena. He had not a lively imagination, and his feelings were not excited by the contemplation of such a striking example of fallen greatness. I was Lord Bathurst’s private secretary for several years, but so far from feeling any obligation to him, I always consider his mistaken kindness in giving me that post as the source of all my misfortunes and the cause of my present condition. He never thought fit to employ me, never associated me with the interests and the business of his office, and consequently abandoned me at the age of eighteen to that life of idleness and dissipation from which I might have been saved had he felt that my future prospects in life, my character and talents, depended in great measure upon the direction which was at that moment given to my mind. He would probably have made me a Tory (which I should hardly have remained), but I should have become a man of business, and of the antagonist tastes which divided my mind that for literature and employment would have got the better of that for amusement and idleness, instead, as unfortunately happened, of the latter prevailing over the former. Though I knew Lord Bathurst so long, and was his private secretary for some years, and his family and mine have always been so intimate, I had no real intimacy with him. From what I have learnt from others I am disposed to rate his abilities more highly than the world has done. He was the friend and devoted admirer of Pitt, and a regular Tory of the old school, who felt that evil days had come upon him in his old age. When he left office with the Duke of Wellington he resolved upon finally quitting public life, and let what might happen, never to take office again. On coming to town yesterday I heard of another death—Mrs. Arbuthnot, after a short illness. The Duke of Wellington, with whom she had lived in the most intimate relations for many years, evinced a good deal of feeling, but he is accused of insensibility because he had the good taste and sense to smooth his brow and go to the House of Lords with a cheerful aspect. She was not a clever woman, but she was neither dull nor deficient, and very prudent and silent.

August 6th, 1834

To my office, then to the House of Lords and heard a discussion on foreign politics; not very amusing; Melbourne not so good as Grey would have been. The Duke spoke, but he looked very ill. Walked from the House with Lord Carnarvon, who is an intelligent man, but a great alarmist and very desponding; he thinks we are going on IRISH TITHE BILL. step by step to an utter subversion of all interests and institutions.

August 7th, 1834

Yesterday I met the Duke of Wellington, who talked to me of Mrs. Arbuthnot; I walked away from my office with Duncannon, who told me that O’Connell’s amendment in the Tithe Bill met with his concurrence (and in fact, though he did not exactly say as much, his connivance). He said he was sure this Bill was the only chance for the Irish Church, which he was very anxious to save and support; expressed great anxiety to make it up with O’Connell by giving him a great judicial situation, is convinced he is sincere (at the moment) in all he says, but that he is so vain and excitable and ambitious that when he returns to Ireland he forgets all he has promised or professed; the demon of agitation regains the ascendant, and he bursts into all those excesses which have made him so odious and formidable; but there is no chance of any arrangement with him, for the majority of the Government would not hear of it. I dined at the ‘Travellers;’ walked to a fire in Edward Street, where I amused myself with the strange figures and groups, the glare, bustle, and noise. There was Duncannon again, a Secretary of State jostling and jostled in the mob.

August 12th, 1834

On Saturday to Hillingdon, and back yesterday; passed the night at the House of Lords, to hear the debate on the Irish Tithe Bill.[1] At a meeting at Apsley House the Tory Lords came to an unanimous resolution to throw out the Bill, and at one or two meetings at Lambeth the bishops agreed to do the same. The debate was heavy; Melbourne very unlike Lord Grey, whose forte was leading the House of Lords and making speeches on such occasions. Ellenborough spoke the best, I think. I hardly ever heard such unbroken fluency, and a good deal of stuff, too, in his speech. Ellice and Spring Rice both told me that this decision was the most fatal and most important that had occurred for years; the latter said that no tithe would be paid, but that there would be no active resistance. Such tithe property as could be seized would not be sold, because there would be no purchasers for it. One thing is clear to me, that those Tories who are always bellowing ‘revolution’ and ‘spoliation,’ and who talk of the gradual subversion of every institution and the imminent peril in which all our establishments are placed, do not really believe one word of what they say, and, instead of being oppressed with fear, they are buoyed up with delusive confidence and courage; for if they did indeed believe that the Church—the Church of Ireland especially—was in danger, and that its preservation was the one paramount desideratum, they would gladly avert, as far as they might, that danger by a compromise involving a very small (if any) sacrifice of principle, and which would secure to the Irish clergy, as far as human prudence, legislative sanction, and the authority of law can secure it, a permanent and a competent provision, free from the danger and the odium which have for a long time past embittered the existence of every clergyman in the country. It is a curious speculation to see what the effect will be of this vote practically in Ireland on the condition of the clergy, and upon public opinion here.

[1] [The Irish Tithe Bill was thrown out by the House of Lords by 189 to 122.]

It is difficult to understand why the Lords did not alter the Bill in Committee and restore it to its original state, that which Ellenborough said he would not have opposed, and which had been already sanctioned by a great majority of the House of Commons upon the report of a Committee. If they had done this, either the Bill must have passed in this less obnoxious shape or the odium of its rejection would have been thrown upon the Commons, and the Lords would undoubtedly have had an excellent case to present to the country. But if there is a wall they are sure to run their heads against it, and if there is none they build one up for the purpose. What puzzles me most is the opposition of the clergy; they are the parties most immediately and most deeply interested in this Bill, and yet the great majority of them appear to be opposed totis viribus to it.

August 13th, 1834

Dined at Roehampton yesterday with Farquhar. Mrs. Norton and Mrs. Blackwood and Theodore THEODORE HOOK. Hook dined there among others. After dinner he displayed his extraordinary talent of improvisation, which I had never heard but once before, and then he happened not to be in the vein. Last night he was very brilliant. Each lady gave him a subject, such as the ‘Goodwood Cup,’ the ‘Tithe Bill;’ one ‘could not think of anything,’ when he dashed off and sang stanzas innumerable, very droll, with ingenious rhymes and excellent hits, ‘his eye begetting occasion for his excellent wit,’ for at every word of interruption or admiration, every look or motion, he indulged in a digression, always coming back to one of the themes imposed upon him. It is a tour de force, in which I believe he stands alone, and it is certainly wonderfully well worth hearing and uncommonly amusing.

August 14th, 1834

Yesterday there was a bother with the Chancellor about Lord Westmeath’s case pending before the Privy Council.[2] He took it into his head (probably having been got at by Lady Westmeath or some of her friends) to have it decided forthwith, and sent to desire a Committee might be convened. Westmeath’s counsel was out of town; Follett, whom he relies on, is on the Northern Circuit, but his other counsel is to be had, being at Chislehurst. Accordingly the Chancellor desired that the case might stand over from Thursday, the day he first appointed it (giving only two days’ notice), to Monday, and that it should be notified to the parties that if they did not then appear the case should go on without them. Westmeath came to me in a frenzy of rage, and said the Chancellor was the greatest of villains, and so he would tell him in the House of Lords or in the Privy Council. I begged him to hold his tongue, and I would speak to the Chancellor. So I went to the House of Lords where he was sitting, and told Lemarchant what had passed, and that the case ought not to be thus hurried on. He thanked me very much, and said he would go to Brougham; but he soon returned, and said that the Chancellor would hear nothing, and would have the case brought on, and he therefore advised me not to give myself any further concern in it, and to leave him and Westmeath to settle it as they might. In the meantime Westmeath went down to the House of Lords, and after speaking to Wynford, whom the Chancellor had asked to attend (as he learnt from me), was going to get up in the House of Lords and attack him, and was only prevented by Wynford dragging him down by the tail of his coat. I had already spoken to Wynford, and I afterwards spoke to Lord Lansdowne, telling them that the case ought not to be hurried on in this peremptory way, and I persuaded Lord Lansdowne to set his face against it. However, in the meantime Wynford had urged the Chancellor to put it off, and not exasperate that madman, who would say or do something violent; and, whether from reason or fear, he prevailed on him. Wynford told me that Brougham is undoubtedly mad, and so I really believe he is. While I was in the House of Lords Horne came in from the Commons, and said they had succeeded in stifling there all discussion on the rejection of the Tithe Bill by the House of Lords. Grattan was going to introduce the subject, but was prevailed on to say nothing, and to some questions put by Major Beauclerck Althorp refused to reply.

[2] [The appellate jurisdiction in causes matrimonial was vested at this time in the King in Council. The case of Westmeath v. Westmeath, which was a suit for a separation and a question of alimony, came up on appeal from the Court of Arches.]

August 16th, 1834

At a Council for the prorogation; the first time I have seen all these new Ministers in a bunch—a queer set, all things considered, to be in possession of the Palace. Great change of decoration. Duncannon, Ellice, Hobhouse, Abercromby, Mulgrave, Auckland. The King, who is fond of meddling in the Council business instead of repeating like a parrot what is put in his mouth, made a bother and confusion about a fancy matter, and I was forced to go to Taylor and beg to explain it to him, which I did after the House of Lords. The King was quite knocked up and easily satisfied, for he neither desired nor could have understood any explanations. There were not much more than half a dozen Peers in the House, but many ladies. The Chancellor went down, and, in presence of the ladies, LORD BROUGHAM. attired in his golden robes (and especially before Mrs. P., to whom he makes love), gave a judgment in some case in which a picture of Nell Gwynne was concerned, and he was very proud of the delicacy of his judgment. There never was anything like his exhilaration of spirits and good-humour. I don’t know what has come to him, except it be that he has scrambled through the session and got Lord Grey out. He wound up in the House of Lords by the introduction of his Bill for a Judicial Committee there, which he prefaced by a speech exhibiting his own judicial acts, and undoubtedly making a capital case for himself as to diligence and despatch if it be all true (which I see no reason to doubt), and passing a great eulogium upon the House of Lords as an institution, and drawing comparisons between that House and the House of Commons (much to the disadvantage of the latter), expressing many things which are very true and just and of a highly conservative tendency. He is a strange being whom, with all his inconsistencies, one cannot but admire; so varied and prodigious are his powers. Much more are these lines applicable to him than to his predecessor on the Woolsack:—

Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.

In a speech the other night, by way of putting his audience on a wrong scent with regard to his correspondence with Lord Wellesley, he assured them that that correspondence was on any subject but politics, and in every language except English; and Lemarchant told somebody that his most difficult employment was to correct and copy out the Chancellor’s Greek epigrams to Lord Wellesley, his Greek characters being worse than his English; while Lord Wellesley sent him very neatly written and prettily composed epigrams in return. I should think Lemarchant’s occupation very amusing, and that no study could be more curious than that of the mind and actions of this strange specimen of humanity.

August 19th, 1834

At Stoke from Saturday, the 16th, till yesterday; had much talk with old Creevey about the Chancellor. Sefton, his great ally, so resented his conduct to Lord Grey that he was on the point of quarrelling with him, and Brougham miscalculated so far as to chuckle to Sefton himself over the improvement of his own position in the new order of things, telling him that he could more easily manage Melbourne than he could Lord Grey. They are a precious set with their squabbles and tracasseries. It appears that they very well knew what Brougham was from the beginning, especially Grey’s womankind, who warned their father against him, but they all flattered themselves they had taken the sting out of him by getting him into the House of Lords. Creevey says that Brougham is devoured with ambition, and what he wants is to be Prime Minister, but that it is quite impossible he should for ever escape detection and not be regularly blown up sooner or later. He now wants to appear on good terms with Lord Grey, and there is a dinner at Edinburgh in contemplation (at which Brougham is to preside) to be given to Lord Grey. His friends want him not to go, but he has a notion that the Scotch have behaved so well to him that he ought not to refuse the invitation. The Chancellor had intended to go junketting on the Rhine with Mrs. P., and this project was only marred by his discovering that he could not leave the country without putting the Great Seal in commission at a cost (to himself) of 1,400ℓ. This was a larger price than he was disposed to pay for his trip, so he went off to Brougham instead.

On Sunday I went all over the private apartments of Windsor Castle, and walked through what they call the slopes to the Queen’s cottage; all very splendid and luxurious. In the gallery there is a model of a wretched-looking dog-hole of a building, with a ruined tower beside it. I asked what this was, and the housekeeper said, ‘The Château of Meiningen;’ put there, I suppose, to enhance by comparison the pleasure of all the grandeur which surrounds the Queen, for it would hardly have been exhibited as a philosophical or moral memento of her humble origin and the low fortune from which she has been raised.

SPENCER PERCEVAL. As I rode into London yesterday morning I fell in with Spencer Perceval, and got off my horse to walk into town with him. He talks rationally enough till he gets on religious topics; he asked me what I thought of the state of affairs, and, after telling him my opinion of the condition and prospects of the Church, I asked him what he thought of them. He said he agreed with me as to the status, but his notion was ‘that it all proceeded from a departure from God,’ that ours was a backsliding Church, and that God had forsaken it, and that we had only to put our trust in Him, and rely entirely on Him, and He would work out the salvation of His own. We parted in the midst of the discussion, and before I had any time to get from him any explanation of the course he would recommend to those who govern in furtherance of his own theocratical principles.

There has been what is called ‘a great Protestant meeting’ at Dublin, at which Winchilsea was introduced to the Irish Orangemen and made one of them. It was great in one way, for there were a great many fools, who talked a great deal of nonsense and evinced a disposition to do a great deal of mischief if they can. Winchilsea’s description of himself was undoubtedly true, only it is true always and of all of them, ‘that his feelings were so excited that he was deprived of what little intellect he possessed.’

August 26th, 1834

On Friday to Hillingdon, Saturday to Stoke; Lord John Russell, Medem, Dedel, Tommy Duncombe, D’Orsay. Lord John and I walked to Bulstrode on Sunday; talked about the Chancellor and the Government. He said that Lord Holland was struck with Brougham’s want of tact at hearing him press Lord Grey to go to a public dinner at Edinburgh because he was to be in the chair; that Lord Grey did not think Brougham had been engaged ab initio in a plot to get him out. Lord John talked of the House of Lords, and how it and the House of Commons were to be re-united. He thinks that the obstinacy of the House of Lords and its Tory spirit are attributable solely to the numerous creations of the last thirty or forty years.

Tommy Duncombe is the greatest political comedy going, he is engaged in a mediation between the master builders and the operatives, who have quarrelled about the unions, and an express came to him from Cubitt after dinner.

Sefton told me that Lord Grey, when he was at Windsor, had a long conversation with the King, in which his Majesty expressed no little dissatisfaction at what had recently occurred and at the present posture of his affairs. He told me that Lord Grey certainly would not have continued in office under any circumstances till Parliament met again, and that, in fact, his continual propositions to retire and expressions of consciousness of inability and unfitness had been very embarrassing and annoying both to his colleagues and the King, and that the latter had evidently been tired out by them, as was proved by his not making the slightest effort to induce Lord Grey to remain when he tendered his resignation. Grey acted very handsomely in giving his proxy to Melbourne, and the reason he stayed away from the House of Lords during the latter days of the session was that he was afraid of being compelled to say something indicative of the real state of his mind and feelings with regard to past occurrences.

When I got to town yesterday, to my great astonishment I found that the Vice-Chancellor had been at the office with a peremptory mandate from the Chancellor to bring on the Westmeath case on Friday next, sent up from Brougham Hall. In my absence the summonses had been issued, but I desired them all to be recalled, and the Vice-Chancellor soon after happening to call on me, I told him what had occurred before, and that the Lord President was opposed to the cause being thus hurried on. He acquiesced, and wrote to the Chancellor to say he had heard from me that it could not be; and so it ended, but I dare say the Chancellor will be in a violent rage, which I rather enjoy than not.[3] It is very clear that he intends to exercise paramount authority LORD WESTMEATH’S CASE. over the Judicial Committee, and to consider everything connected with it at his disposal. When first he had the Privy Council Bill drawn up by one of his devils, he intended to create a new tribunal, of which he should be the head, and though he was obliged to give up his original design, he still considers himself entitled to deal with the Judicial Committee as he pleases. If the Lord President had more of the spirit that is due to the office over which he presides, he would not suffer him to interfere, and I am resolved if I can to get Lord Lansdowne to assert his own authority. The Chancellor has promised Sefton that when Mr. Blackburn, now a judge at the Mauritius, comes home, he shall be made a Privy Councillor; that Sir Alexander Johnston, who now attends the sittings of the Council, shall be dismissed, and Blackburn invited to attend instead of him, and that he shall have 400ℓ. a year (which by the Act he may). This, if it takes place, will be one of the grossest and most barefaced jobs that ever were perpetrated; but I think it can never be. What makes it worse is that Brougham introduced this clause for the express purpose of meeting Blackburn’s case; so he told Sefton, but I suppose it means that he made the stipend receivable by an ex-judge in any colony, when the pretext for it was the power of obtaining the assistance of Indian judges.[4]

[3] [In addition to other reasons, which are obvious, against this proceeding, it would have been an unprecedented thing to call on an important appeal for hearing at the end of August, in the midst of the long vacation.]

[4] [No colonial judge has ever been appointed to one of the assessorships of the Judicial Committee, except Sir Alexander Johnston, who had been Chief Justice of Ceylon; but Sir Alexander refused to accept the stipend (400ℓ. a year) attached to the office, and never did receive it.]

September 4th, 1834

At Court yesterday. The King came to town to receive the address of the City on the Queen’s return—the most ridiculous address I ever heard. The Queen was too ill to appear. Her visit to Germany knocked her up, and well it might, considering the life she led—always up at six and never in bed till twelve, continual receptions and ceremonies. Errol told me she showed them her old bedroom in the palace (as they call it) at Meiningen—a hole that an English housemaid would think it a hardship to sleep in.

Stanley (not the ex-Secretary, but the Under-Secretary) told me last night an anecdote of Melbourne which I can very easily believe. When the King sent for him he told Young ‘he thought it a damned bore, and that he was in many minds what he should do—be Minister or no.’ Young said, ‘Why, damn it, such a position never was occupied by any Greek or Roman, and, if it only lasts two months, it is well worth while to have been Prime Minister of England.’ ‘By God that’s true,’ said Melbourne; ‘I’ll go.’ Young is his private secretary—a vulgar, familiar, impudent fellow, but of indefatigable industry and a man who suits Melbourne. His taste is not delicate enough to be shocked at the coarseness, while his indolence is accommodated by the industry, of his secretary. Then Young[5] knows many people, many places, and many things; nobody knows whence he comes or what is his origin, but he was a purser in the navy, and made himself useful to the Duke of Devonshire when he went to Russia, who recommended him to Melbourne. He was a writer and runner for the newspapers, and has always been an active citizen, struggling and striving to get on in the world, and probably with no inconsiderable dexterity. I know nothing of his honesty, for or against it; he seems good-humoured, but vulgar and familiar. Ben Stanley and I were talking about public men, and agreed that by far the ablest, and at the same time the most unscrupulous, of them are Brougham and O’Connell, and that the latter is probably on the whole the most devoid of principle. Their characters and adventures would be worthy of a Plutarch.

[5] [Tom Young was commonly known as ‘Ubiquity Young,’ because you saw him in every place you might happen to go to.]

September 5th, 1834

At Holland House yesterday, where I had not been these two years. Met Lord Holland at Court, who made me go. The last time I was with my Lady she was so mighty uncivil that I left off my visits, and then we met again as if there had been no interruption, and as if we had been living together constantly. Spring Rice and his son, Melbourne, and Palmerston dined there; Allen was at Dulwich, but came in the evening, and so did Bobus Smith. There HOLLAND HOUSE. was a great deal of very good talk, anecdotes, literary criticism, and what not, some of which would be worth remembering, though hardly sufficiently striking to be put down, unless as forming a portion of a whole course of conversations of this description. A vast depression came over my spirits, though I was amused, and I don’t suppose I uttered a dozen words. It is certainly true that the atmosphere of Holland House is often oppressive, but that was not it; it was a painful consciousness of my own deficiencies and of my incapacity to take a fair share in conversation of this description. I felt as if a language was spoken before me which I understood, but not enough to talk in it myself. There was nothing discussed of which I was altogether ignorant, and when the merits of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Crabbe were brought into comparison, and Lord Holland cut jokes upon Allen for his enthusiastic admiration of the ‘De Moribus Germanorum,’ it was not that I had not read the poets or the historian, but that I felt I had not read them with profit. I have not that familiarity with either which enables me to discuss their merits, and a painful sense came over me of the difference between one who has superficially read and one who has studied, one who has laid a solid foundation in early youth, gathering knowledge as he advances in years, all the stores of his mind being so orderly disposed that they are at all times available, and one who (as I have done) has huddled together a quantity of loose reading, as vanity, curiosity, and not seldom shame impelled; reading thus without system, more to cover the deficiencies of ignorance than to augment the stores of knowledge, loads the mind with an undigested mass of matter, which proves when wanted to be of small practical utility—in short, one must pay for the follies of one’s youth. He who wastes his early years in horse-racing and all sorts of idleness, figuring away among the dissolute and the foolish, must be content to play an inferior part among the learned and the wise. Some instances there are of men who have united both characters, but it will be found that these have had frequent laborious intervals, that though they may have been vicious, they have never been indolent, and that their minds have never slumbered and lost by disuse the power of exertion. Reflections of this sort make me very uncomfortable, and I am ready to cry with vexation when I think on my misspent life. If I was insensible to a higher order of merit, and indifferent to a nobler kind of praise, I should be happier far; but to be tormented with the sentiment of an honourable ambition and with aspirations after better things, and at the same time so sunk in sloth and bad habits as to be incapable of those exertions without which their objects are unattainable, is of all conditions the worst. I sometimes think that it would be better for me, as I am not what I might have been (if my education had been less neglected, and my mind had undergone a better system of moral discipline), if I was still lower than I am in the scale, and belonged entirely to a more degraded caste; and then again, when I look forward to that period which is fast approaching—

When ... a sprightlier age—
Comes tittering on to drive one from the stage—

I am thankful that I have still something in store, that though far below the wise and the learned, I am still something raised above the ignorant mob, that though much of my mental substance has been wasted, I have enough left to appear respectably in the world, and that I have at least preserved that taste for literary pursuits which I cling to as the greatest of blessings and the best security against the tedium and vacuity which are the indispensable concomitants of an idle youth and an ignorant old age.

As a slight but imperfect sketch of the talk of Holland House I will put down this:—

They talked of Taylor’s new poem, ‘Philip van Artevelde.’ Melbourne had read and admired it. The preface, he said, was affected and foolish, the poem very superior to anything in Milman. There was one fine idea in the ‘Fall of Jerusalem’—that of Titus, who felt himself propelled by an irresistible impulse like that of the Greek dramatists, whose fate is the great agent always pervading their dramas. They held CONVERSATION AT HOLLAND HOUSE. Wordsworth cheap, except Spring Rice, who was enthusiastic about him. Holland thought Crabbe the greatest genius of modern poets. Melbourne said he degraded every subject. None of them had known Coleridge; his lectures were very tiresome, but he is a poet of great merit. Then they spoke of Spencer Perceval and Irving preaching in the streets. Irving had called on Melbourne, and eloquently remonstrated that ‘they only asked the same licence that was given to puppet-shows and other sights not to be prevented; that the command was express, “Go into the highways,” and that they must obey God rather than man.’ Melbourne said this was all very true and unanswerable. ‘What did you answer?’ I asked. ‘I said, “You must not preach there.”’ Then of Cambridge and Goulburn, who is a saint and gave lectures in his room, by which he has caught several young men. Lord Holland spoke of George III.’s letters to Lord North; the King liked Lord North, hated the Duke of Richmond. Amongst the few people he liked were Lord Loughborough and Lord Thurlow. Thurlow was always ‘endeavouring to undermine the Minister with whom he was acting, and intriguing underhand with his enemies.’ Loughborough used to say, ‘Do what you think right, and never think of what you are to say to excuse it beforehand’—a good maxim. The Duke of Richmond in 1763 or 1764, after an audience of the King in his closet, told him that ‘he had said that to him which if he was a subject he should not scruple to call an untruth.’ The King never forgave it, and the Duke had had the imprudence to make a young king his enemy for life. This Duke of Richmond, when Lord-Lieutenant of Sussex, during the American war, sailed in a yacht through the fleet, when the King was there, with American colours at his mast-head. He never forgave Fox for putting the Duke of Portland instead of himself at the head of the Government in 1782. During the riots in 1780 on account of Admiral Keppel, Tom Grenville burst open the door of the Admiralty, and assisted at the pillage and destruction of papers. Lord Grey a little while ago attacked him about it, and he did not deny it. Such things could not be done now. During the Windsor election they hired a mob to go down and throw Lord Mornington (Lord Wellesley) over Windsor Bridge, and Fitzpatrick said it would be so fine to see St. Patrick’s blue riband floating down the stream. They first sent to Piper to know if Lord Mornington could swim. The plan was defeated by his having a still stronger mob. After dinner they discussed women’s works: few chefs-d’œuvres; Madame de Sévigné the best; the only three of a high class are Madame de Sévigné, Madame de Stael, and (Bobus Smith said) Sappho, but of her not above forty lines are extant: these, however, are unrivalled; Mrs Somerville is very great in the exact sciences. Lady Holland would not hear of Madame de Stael. They agreed as to Miss Austen that her novels are excellent. Quintus Curtius is confirmed by Burnes’ travels in Bokhara, but was reckoned no authority by the greatest scholars; Lord Melbourne said Mitford had expressed his confidence in him. Of the early English kings there is no reason to believe that any king before Edward III. understood the English language; the quarrel between Beckett and King Henry II. was attributed (by some writers) to the hostile feeling between Normans and Saxons, and this was the principal motive of the quarrel and the murder of the Archbishop. Klopstock had a sect of admirers in Germany; some young students made a pilgrimage from Gottingen to Hamburg, where Klopstock lived in his old age, to ask him the meaning of a passage in one of his works which they could not understand. He looked at it, and then said that he could not then recollect what it was that he meant when he wrote it, but that he knew it was the finest thing he ever wrote, and they could not do better than devote their lives to the discovery of its meaning.

September 7th, 1834

At Holland House again; only Bobus Smith and Melbourne; these two, with Allen, and Lord Holland agreeable enough. Melbourne’s excellent scholarship and universal information remarkably display themselves in society, and he delivers himself with an energy which shows how deeply his mind is impressed with literary subjects.

LORD MELBOURNE’S LITERARY CONVERSATION. After dinner there was much talk of the Church, and Allen spoke of the early reformers, the Catharists, and how the early Christians persecuted each other; Melbourne quoted Vigilantius’s letter to Jerome, and then asked Allen about the 11th of Henry IV., an Act passed by the Commons against the Church, and referred to the dialogue between the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely at the beginning of Shakespeare’s ‘Henry V.,’ which Lord Holland sent for and read, Melbourne knowing it all by heart and prompting all the time. Lingard says of this statute that the Commons proposed to the King to commit an act of spoliation on the clergy, but that the King sharply rebuked them and desired to hear no more of the matter. About etymologies Melbourne quoted Tooke’s ‘Diversions of Purley,’ which he seemed to have at his fingers’ ends. I forget what other topics were discussed, but after Lady Holland and Melbourne and Allen went to bed, Lord Holland, Bobus, and I sat down, and Lord Holland told us many anecdotes about the great orators of his early days. Fox used to say Grey was the most prudent man he knew, and this perhaps owing to his having got into a scrape early in his Parliamentary life, by attacking Pitt, who gave him a severe castigation; it was about his letter to the Prince being sent by a servant during the Regency discussions. Fox thought his own speech in 1804 on going to war with France the best he ever made. Lord Holland believed that Pitt (the younger) was not so eloquent as Chatham. Grattan said, ‘He takes longer flights, does not soar so high.’ No power was ever equal to Chatham’s over a public assembly, much greater in the Commons than it was afterwards in the Lords. When Sir Thomas Robinson had been boring the House on some commercial question, and introduced the word ‘sugar’ so often that there was at last a laugh as often as he did so, Chatham, then Mr. Pitt, who had put him up, grew very angry, and at last his wrath boiled over. When Robinson sat down Pitt rose, and with a tone and manner of the utmost indignation began, ‘Mr. Speaker, sir—sugar—I say sugar. Who laughs now?’ and nobody did laugh. Once in the House of Lords, on a debate during the American war, he said he hoped the King might be awakened from his slumbers. There was a cry of ‘Order! order!’ ‘Order, my Lords?’ burst out Chatham, ‘Order? I have not been disorderly, but I will be disorderly. I repeat again, I hope that his Majesty may be awakened from his slumbers, but that he may be awakened by such an awful apparition as that which drew King Priam’s curtains in the dead of the night and told him of the conflagration of his empire.’ Holland regretted much that he had never heard Lord North, whom he fancied he should have liked as much as any of his great opponents; his temper, shrewdness, humour, and power of argument were very great. Tommy Townshend, a violent, foolish fellow, who was always talking strong language, said in some debate, ‘Nothing will satisfy me but to have the noble Lord’s head; I will have his head.’ Lord North said, ‘The honourable gentleman says he will have my head. I bear him no malice in return, for though the honourable gentleman says he will have my head, I can assure him that I would on no account have his.’

September 13th, 1834

Dined again at Holland House the day before yesterday; Melbourne, Rice, Lord and Lady Albemarle, and Lord Gosford; rather dull. A discussion about who was the man in a mask who cut Charles I.’s head off; Mackintosh believed he knew. What a literary puerility! The man in a mask was Jack Ketch (whatever his name was); who can doubt it? Where was the man, Roundhead or Puritan, who as an amateur would have mounted the scaffold to perform this office? But the executioner, though only discharging the duties of his office, probably thought in those excited times that he would not be safe from the vengeance of some enthusiastic cavalier, and that it was more prudent to conceal the features of the man by whom the deed was done. Melbourne swore that Henry VIII. was the greatest man who ever lived, and Allen declared if he had not married Ann Boleyn we should have continued Catholics to this day, both of which assertions I ventured to dispute. Allen with all his learning is fond of a paradox, and his prejudices shine forth LORD BROUGHAM’S ABERRATIONS. in every question in which Church and religion are implicated. Melbourne loves dashing opinions.

September 18th, 1834

For some weeks past a fierce war has been waged by the ‘Times’ against the Chancellor. It was declared in some menacing articles which soon swelled into a tone of rebuke, and have since been sharpened into attacks of a constancy, violence, and vigour quite unexampled; all the power of writing which the paper can command—argument, abuse, and ridicule—have been heaped day after day upon him, and when it took a little breathing time it filled up the interval by quotations from other papers, which have been abundantly supplied both by the London and the country press. I do not yet know what are the secret causes which have stirred the wrath of the ‘Times.’ The ‘Examiner’ has once a week thrown into the general contribution of rancour an article perhaps wittier and more pungent than any which have appeared in the ‘Times,’ but between them they have flagellated him till he is raw, and it is very clear that he feels it quite as acutely as they can desire. While they have thus been administering castigation in this unsparing style, he has afforded them the best opportunities by his extraordinary progress in Scotland, and the astonishing speeches which he made at Aberdeen and Dundee, making more mountebank exhibitions than he did in the House of Lords, and exciting the unquenchable laughter of his enemies and the continual terror of his friends. Lord Holland told me that he was trembling for the account of the Edinburgh dinner. That great affair appears, however (by the first half of the proceedings), to have gone off very well. Lord Grey in his speech confined himself to general topics, and he and Brougham steered extremely clear of one another, but Brougham made some allusions which Durham took to himself, and replied to with considerable asperity of tone, avoiding, however, any personalities and anything like a direct collision. Everybody asks, How long will Brougham be permitted to go on playing these ape’s tricks and scattering his flummery and his lies? and then they say, But you can’t get rid of him, and the Government (dangerous as he is to them) could not get on without him. There would probably be no difficulty; experience has demonstrated to me the extreme fallacy of the notion that anybody under any circumstances is indispensable. Althorp appeared the most indispensable man the other day, but that was only because his friends and the fools in the House of Commons kept bawling out that he was so till they persuaded him, themselves, and everybody else that it really was the case. Who would have dared to say that this Government could have gone on without either Stanley in one House or Lord Grey in the other? But anybody would have been scouted as mad who had argued that it would go on just as well when deprived of both of them. The Chancellor’s amazing talents—his eloquence, sarcasm, and varied powers—can never fail to produce considerable effect; but in the House of Lords the field is narrow for the display of these qualities, the audience is cold and unfriendly, and he has excited such a general feeling of personal animosity against himself, and has done such irreparable injury to his character—having convinced all the world that he is desperately ambitious, false, capricious, intriguing, and governed by no principle, and under the influence of no sentiment of honour—that his influence is exceedingly diminished. Those who are charitably disposed express their humane conviction that he is mad, and it probably is not very remote from the truth.[6]

[6] [It is with pain and reluctance that I print these remarks on Lord Brougham, and several passages in the preceding pages of these Memoirs which are equally severe, and in some respects, I think, exaggerated. But I certainly do not feel myself justified in withholding them. They were all revised and corrected by the author himself with great care; and nothing but a true and full account of the sentiments which Lord Brougham’s conduct had excited amongst his colleagues and contemporaries at that time can account for the catastrophe which awaited him, and which excluded him for the rest of his life from official life and employment.]

Henry Taylor brought me a parcel of letters to frank to Southey the other day; they are from Newton, Cowper’s nephew (I think to W. Thornton), and they are to supply Southey with materials for Cowper’s Life, which he is writing. There is one curious fact revealed in these letters, which CANNING AND LORD HOLLAND. accounts for much of Cowper’s morbid state of mind and fits of depression, as well as for the circumstance of his running away from his place in the House of Lords. It relates to some defect in his physical conformation; some body found out his secret, and probably threatened its exposure.

September 19th, 1834

Yesterday at Holland House; nobody there but Melbourne. We were talking of Reform, and Lord Holland said, ‘I don’t know if we were right about Reform, but this I know, that if we were to propose it at all, we were right in going the lengths we did, and this was Canning’s opinion.’ Melbourne said, ‘Yes, I know it was, and that was mine, and that was the reason why I was against Reform.’ Holland then resumed that he had formerly been one of Canning’s most intimate friends at college; that at that time—the beginning of the French Revolution—when a general excitement prevailed, Canning was a great Jacobin, much more so than he was himself; that Canning had always hated the aristocracy (a hatred which they certainly returned with interest); that in after life he had been separated from Canning, and they had seen but little of each other. Just before he was going to India, however, Holland called on him, and Canning dined at Holland House. On one of these occasions they had a conversation upon the subject of Reform, when Canning said that he saw it was inevitable, and he was not sorry to be away while the measure was accomplished, but that if he had been here while it was mooted, he could have let those gentlemen (the Whig aristocracy) know that they should gain nothing by it. After dinner we had much talk about religion, when Allen got into a fury; he thundered out his invectives against the charlatanerie of the Apostles and Fathers and the brutal ignorance of the early Christian converts, when Holland said, laughing, ‘Well, but you need not abuse them so violently.’ They were in high delight at Holland House at the way the Edinburgh dinner went off. It was a very ludicrous incident that the Scotchmen could not be kept from falling to before Lord Grey and the grandees arrived, and when they did come most of the dinner was already eaten up. The Chancellor is said to have made an admirable speech at the meeting of savans, full of dignity, propriety, and eloquence, and the savans spoke one more absurdly than another.

September 23rd, 1834

On Saturday at Stoke; came up yesterday with Melbourne. We had a great deal of talk. As soon as we got into the carriage he asked me if I thought it was true that Talleyrand had taken such offence at Palmerston that he would not return here on that account, and if I knew what it was that had affronted him, whether any deficiency in diplomatic punctilio or general offensiveness of manner. I told him I had no doubt it was true, and that the complaints against Palmerston were so general that there must be some cause for them, and though Madame de Lieven might be prejudiced against him, all the foreign Ambassadors could not be so. He said it was very extraordinary if it was so, tried to argue that it might not be the case, and put it in all sorts of different ways; he said that Palmerston exhibited no signs of temper or arrogance with his colleagues, but quite the reverse; he owned, however, he was very obstinate. We then talked over the Stratford Canning business; he admitted that it was unfortunate and might lead to serious consequences, both as to our relations with the Emperor and to the question of diplomatic expenses here. I expressed my astonishment that Palmerston’s obstinacy should have been permitted to have its own way in the matter, and I should guess, from his own strong opinion on the subject, that an Ambassador would be sent before long. He told me—what I did not know before—that the King of Prussia had desired to have Lord Clanwilliam recalled from Berlin.

He then talked of Brougham, and I found that he knows him thoroughly, and is more on his guard than I thought he was with regard to him. I told him of the change in Sefton’s feelings towards him on Lord Grey’s account, and also of Brougham’s strange want of discrimination and his imprudence in congratulating himself to Sefton on the recent changes, and of his expectations of profiting by Melbourne’s advancement to power. I touched lightly on the latter part, PALMERSTON AND BROUGHAM. because it is never prudent to dwell upon topics which are injurious to a person’s vanity, and a word dropped upon so tender a part produces as much effect as the strongest argument. He seemed not a little struck by it, and when I said that I thought there was a taint of insanity in the Chancellor, he said that he thought a great change in him was manifest in the course of the last year, and admitted that he did not think him of sound mind certainly. This he rather implied than expressed, however. He talked of his conduct in Parliament, and observed upon the strange forbearance of the Tories towards him; he thought he had never given stronger evidence of talent than in some of his speeches during the last session. I asked him if the King and Brougham were well together. He shook his head: ‘not at all, and the King can’t bear these exhibitions in Scotland.’ He said the King liked Palmerston, Auckland, Spring Rice, and Mulgrave; had no fancy for any of the rest. (I suspect he likes him (Melbourne), because he appears to talk openly to him, and to express his feelings about the others, and I dare say Melbourne puts him at his ease.) He can’t bear John Russell, respects Althorp (and particularly Lord Spencer), but hates Althorp’s politics; treats Lord Holland with the familiarity of a connexion,[7] but doesn’t like his politics either; he is tenacious about having everything laid before him, often gives his opinion, but is easily satisfied; liked Lord Grey, but was never quite at his ease with him (this accounts for his taking Lord Grey’s resignation as quietly as he did); has a very John-Bullish aversion to the French, and the junction of the English and French fleets two years ago was a bitter pill for him to swallow.

[7] [Colonel Fox, Lord Holland’s eldest son, having married Lady Mary, the King’s eldest daughter, both however born out of wedlock.]

We afterwards talked of Canning and the Duke of Wellington, and the breaking up of the Tory Government. I told him that I believed the Duke and the Tories were aware of Canning’s communications with Brougham. Brougham wrote to Canning and made him an unqualified offer of support. When the King asked Canning how he was to obtain support enough to carry on the Government, he pulled this letter out of his pocket, gave it to him, and said, ‘Sir, your father broke the domination of the Whigs; I hope your Majesty will not endure that of the Tories.’ ‘No,’ said the King; ‘I’ll be damned if I do;’ and he made him Minister. This Canning told Melbourne himself.

September 25th, 1834

Dined yesterday at Holland House; only Melbourne and Pahlen, and in the evening Senior came. He is a very able man—a conveyancer, great political economist, and author of various works on that subject. He was employed by Government to draw up the Poor Law Bill, and might have been one of the Poor Law Commissioners if he would have accepted the office; his profits in his profession are too great to be given up for this occupation. By a discussion which arose about Bickersteth’s merits it was clear that there is a question of his being Solicitor-General. Melbourne said ‘he was a Benthamite, and they were all fools.’ (He said a doctrinaire was a fool, but an honest man.) I said ‘the Austins were not fools.’ ‘Austin? Oh, a damned fool. Did you ever read his book on “Jurisprudence”?’ I said I had read a great part of it, and that it did not appear to be the work of a fool. He said he had read it all, and that it was the dullest book he ever read, and full of truisms elaborately set forth. Melbourne is very fond of being slashing and paradoxical. It is astonishing how much he reads even now that he is Prime Minister. He is greatly addicted to theology, and loves conversing on the subject of religion. ——, who wanted him to marry her (which he won’t do, though he likes to talk to her), is the depositary of his thoughts and notions on these subjects, and the other day she told me he sent her a book (I forget what) on the Revelation stuffed with marginal notes of his own. It was not long ago that he studied Lardner’s book on the ‘Credibility of the Christian Religion,’ and compared it with the Bible as he went along. She fancies that all this reading and reflection have turned him into the right way. I can see no symptom of it at Holland House.

After dinner we talked of languages, and Lord Holland REFLECTIONS ON THE TURF. insisted that Spanish was the finest of all and the best adapted to eloquence. They said that George Villiers wrote word that nothing could be better than the speaking in the Cortes—great readiness and acuteness in reply—and that a more dexterous and skilful debater than Martinez de la Rosa could not be found in any assembly. ‘That speaking so well is the worst thing about them,’ said Melbourne. ‘Ah, that is one of your paradoxes,’ Lord Holland replied.

Allen talked to me about the Harley papers, which were left in a box not to be opened for sixty years; the box was only opened a few years ago at my cousin Titchfield’s (the first) desire, and the papers submitted to Mackintosh, with permission to publish them in his ‘History of England.’ Mackintosh’s death put an end to this, and Allen wants me to ask my uncle the Duke of Portland to put them in my hands and let me publish them. I never did so. Macaulay had all Mackintosh’s papers, and amongst them his notes from these MSS.

London, November 13th, 1834

For two months nearly that I have been in this country I have not written a line, having had nothing worth recording to put down. It is not worth my while to write, nor anybody else’s to read (should anybody ever read these memoranda), the details of racing and all that thereunto appertains, and though several disagreeable occurrences have ruffled the stream of my life, I have no pleasure in recording these; for if their consequences pass away, and I can forget them, it is better not at any future time to awaken ‘the scorpion sting of griefs subdued.’ Of public events I have known nothing but what everybody else knows, and it would have been mere waste of time to copy from the newspapers accounts of the conflagration of the Houses of Parliament or the Durham dinner at Glasgow. My campaign on the turf has been a successful one. Still all this success has not prevented frequent disgusts, and I derive anything but unmixed pleasure from this pursuit even when I win by it. Besides the continual disappointments and difficulties incident to it, which harass the mind, the life it compels me to lead, the intimacies arising out of it, the associates and the war against villany and trickery, being haunted by continual suspicions, discovering the trust-unworthiness of one’s most intimate friends, the necessity of insincerity and concealment sometimes where one feels that one ought and would desire to be most open; then the degrading nature of the occupation, mixing with the lowest of mankind, and absorbed in the business for the sole purpose of getting money, the consciousness of a sort of degradation of intellect, the conviction of the deteriorating effects upon both the feelings and the understanding which are produced, the sort of dram-drinking excitement of it—all these things and these thoughts torment me, and often turn my pleasure to pain. On arriving in town I went to Crockford’s, where I found all the usual set of people, and soon after Sefton came in. Lord Spencer’s death had taken place the day before; he knew nothing of the probable arrangements, but he told me that he supposed Althorp would go to the Admiralty and Auckland to India. But what he was fullest of was that Mrs. Lane Fox’s house was become the great rendezvous of a considerable part of the Cabinet. The Chancellor, Melbourne, Duncannon, and Mulgrave are there every day and all day; they all dine with her, or meet her (the only woman) at each other’s houses, as often as they can. It certainly is a droll connexion. The squabbles between Brougham and Durham seem to have resolved themselves into a mere personal coldness, and there is no question now of any hostilities between them. I never thought there would be, though some people apparently did; but they both would much rather rail than fight.

November 14th, 1834

Went down to the Council Office yesterday, and found them in the middle of Lord Westmeath’s case—Lord Lansdowne, the Vice-Chancellor, Parke, Erskine, and Vaughan. Lushington was for Lady Westmeath, and Follett (with a civilian) for him. After the argument there was a discussion, and well did Westmeath do, for they reduced the alimony from 700ℓ. to 315ℓ. a year, and the arrears in the same proportion. Thus Westmeath succeeded in great measure in his appeal, which he would not have done RECENT LAW APPOINTMENTS. if the Chancellor had contrived to lug on the case as he wished; for Erskine was all for giving her more, the others did not seem averse, and but for Parke, who hit off the right principle, as well as what best accorded with the justice of the case, she would certainly have got a much larger award.

The Vice-Chancellor afterwards told me the history of the recent legal appointments. There never was any difference of opinion between Brougham and Melbourne on the subject of either. Campbell accepted the Attorney-Generalship on the express condition that he should not expect to succeed as a matter of right to any vacancy in the Courts, but on Leach’s death he did instantly urge his claims. Brougham wrote to Melbourne, and speedily followed his letter to London, and they both agreed not to listen to this claim, and to promote Pepys. I don’t know how they disposed of Horne’s claim. Bickersteth[8] refused to be Solicitor-General on account of his health, and not choosing to face the House of Commons and its work. Shadwell told me that he wrote to Brougham and suggested Rolfe when the vacancy occurred, that he had not been in great practice, but was a good lawyer and excellent speaker, and that the Chancellor and Melbourne had likewise concurred in this appointment. Nothing is settled about the new arrangements rendered necessary by Lord Spencer’s death, but Melbourne went to Brighton yesterday. Rice has worked hard to master the Colonial business, and probably will not like to be translated to the Exchequer; besides, it is supposed that his seat at Cambridge would be in great peril. People talk of their not going on; how can any others go on better?

[8] [Mr. Bickersteth refused to be Solicitor-General because the offer was made to him by the Lord Chancellor, and not by the Prime Minister. At that time he was personally unacquainted with Lord Melbourne, but he consented to call on him at Lord Melbourne’s request, and the offer was repeated, but not accepted. The real reason of his refusal was his profound distrust of Lord Brougham, which amounted to aversion, and he thought it unworthy of himself to accept the office of a law officer of the Crown under a Chancellor with whom he could not conscientiously act. I have read a MS. narrative of the whole transaction by Lord Langdale himself, in which these sentiments are very strongly expressed.]

Lord Lansdowne has just returned from Paris, where, he told me, he had frequent conversations with the King. The new Ministry is a wretched patched-up affair; but the Government of France is centred in the King, and it is his great power and influence in the Chambers, and not the ability of his Ministers (be they who they may), that keeps the thing going. This influence appears to be immense, and without enjoying any popularity, there is an universal opinion that Louis Philippe is indispensable to France. He told Lord Lansdowne that he had always been against the appointment of Marshal Gérard as President of the Council, although he had a high opinion of him, but that he was aware he had not tact and judgment sufficient for that post, and he had told his Ministers that he would consent to the appointment if they insisted on it, but that he warned them that it would break up the Government. Whatever may be the instability of this or any other Administration, it is said that nothing can be more firm and secure than the King’s tenure of his crown. He appears, in fact, to be the very man that France requires, and as he is in the vigour of life and has a reasonable prospect of a long reign, he will probably consolidate the interest of his family and extinguish whatever lingering chance there might be of the restoration of the old effete dynasty.

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CHAPTER XXV.

Fall of Lord Melbourne’s Government — History and Causes of this Event — An Intrigue — Effect of the Coup at Holland House — The Change of Government — The two Camps — The King’s Address to the New Ministers — The Duke’s Account of the Transaction — And Lord Lyndhurst’s — Difficult Position of the Tories — Their Policy — The Duke in all the Offices — Negotiation with Mr. Barnes — Power of the ‘Times’ — Another Address of the King — Brougham offers to be Lord Chief Baron — Mr. Barnes dines with Lord Lyndhurst — Whig View of the Recent Change — Liberal Views of the Tory Ministers — The King resolved to support them — Another Account of the Interview between the King and Lord Melbourne — Lord Stanley’s Position — Sydney Smith’s Preaching at St. Paul’s — Lord Duncannon and Lord Melbourne — Relations of the four Seceders to Peel — Young Disraeli — Lord Melbourne’s Speeches at Derby — Lord John Russell’s Speech at Totness — The Duke of Wellington’s Inconsistencies and Conduct.

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November 16th, 1834

Yesterday morning the town was electrified by the news that Melbourne’s Government was at an end. Nobody had the slightest suspicion of such an impending catastrophe; the Ministers themselves reposed in perfect security. I never saw astonishment so great on every side; nobody pretended to have prophesied or expected such an event. Thus it befell:—On Thursday Melbourne went to Brighton to make the arrangements necessary on Lord Spencer’s death. He had previously received a letter from the King, which contained nothing indicative of the fate that awaited him. He had his audience on Thursday afternoon, and offered his Majesty the choice of Spring Rice, Lord John Russell, or Abercromby to lead the House of Commons and fill the vacant office. The King made some objections, and said he must take time to consider it. Nothing more passed that night, and the next day, when Melbourne saw the King, his Majesty placed in his hands a letter containing his determination. It was couched in terms personally complimentary to Melbourne, but he said that, having lost the services of Lord Althorp as leader of the House of Commons, he could feel no confidence in the stability of his Government when led by any other member of it; that they were already in a minority in the House of Peers, and he had every reason to believe the removal of Lord Althorp would speedily put them in the same situation in the other House; that under such circumstances he felt other arrangements to be necessary, and that it was his intention to send for the Duke of Wellington. Nothing could be more peremptory and decisive, and not a loophole was left for explanation or arrangements, or endeavour to patch the thing up. The King wrote to the Duke, and, what is rather droll, the letter was despatched by Melbourne’s carriage, which returned to town. It is very evident that the King has long determined to seize the first plausible pretext he could find for getting rid of these people, whom he dislikes and fears, and that he thinks (justly or not remains to be proved) the translation of Althorp affords him a good opportunity, and such a one perhaps as may not speedily occur again. It is long since a Government has been so summarily dismissed—regularly kicked out, in the simplest sense of that phrase. Melbourne’s colleagues expected his return without a shadow of apprehension, or doubt. He got back late, and wrote to none of them. The Chancellor, who had dined at Holland House, called on him and heard the news; the others (except Duncannon, who went to him, and I believe Palmerston) remained in happy ignorance till yesterday morning, when they were saluted at their rising with the astounding intelligence. All the Ministers (except Brougham) read the account of their dismissal in the ‘Times’ the next morning, and this was the first they heard of it. Melbourne resolved to say nothing that night, but summoned an early Cabinet, when he meant to impart it. Brougham called on him on his way from Holland House. Melbourne told him, but made him promise not to say a word of it to anybody. He promised, and the moment he quitted the A STRANGE INTRIGUE. house sent to the ‘Times’ office and told them what had occurred, with the well-known addition that ‘the Queen had done it all.’

They attribute their fall to the influence of the Queen, and fancy that it is the result of a preconcerted scheme and intrigue with the Tories, neither of which do I believe to be true. With regard to the latter notion, the absence of Sir Robert Peel, who is travelling in Italy, is a conclusive proof of its falseness. He never would have been absent if he had foreseen the remotest possibility of a crisis, and the death of Lord Spencer has been imminent and expected for some time past. I am convinced that it is the execution of a project which the King has long nourished of delivering himself from the Whigs whenever he could. His original dislike has been exasperated to a great pitch by the mountebank exhibitions of Brougham, and he is so alarmed and disgusted at the Radical propensities which the Durham dinner has manifested, that he is resolved to try whether the Government cannot be conducted upon principles which are called Conservative, but which shall really be bonâ fide opposed to the ultra doctrines and wild schemes which he knows are not distasteful to at least one-half of his late Cabinet.

His resentment against these people has been considerably increased by the discovery (which he believes he has made) of his having been grossly deceived at the period of Lord Grey’s retirement and the formation of Melbourne’s Administration. The circumstances of this part of the business I know only imperfectly, so much so as to leave a good deal that requires explanation in order to make it intelligible; but I was told on good authority yesterday that at that time Sir Robert Peel and the Duke of Wellington were quite prepared to undertake the formation of a Government if it had been proposed to them, and that he had every reason to believe they had been betrayed by ‘that scoundrel H——,’ who had been employed by some of the other party to find out what their intentions and dispositions were upon that point; that H—— had gone to them and asked them the question, and having at that time entire confidence in him, they had told him if it was offered to them they certainly would undertake it; that he had never told them or given them any reason to believe that he was commissioned to find out their resolution, and they think he returned to his employer and told him that they must take care how such an offer was made to the Tories, as they would certainly accept it if it was offered. Melbourne was no party to this transaction, but the consequence of it was that the King was given to understand that it would be useless to propose to them to form a Government, for they were not prepared to do so, and he was advised to make the proposal of a coalition, which was made, and which they of course rejected. The King, it appears, subsequently discovered what their disposition had been at the time, and that he had been misled and deceived, and this made him very indignant.

I should like to know this story more in detail, for it would be curious to learn who were the agents in the intrigue, and, above all, what could induce H—— to sacrifice the interests of the Duke of Wellington (with whom he had great influence and to whom he had great obligations) and of the party from which alone he could expect any solid advantages to those of the Whigs, from whom he could derive no benefit sufficient to compensate him for the danger as well as treachery of the transaction. I never liked this fellow, and always thought him a low blackguard, and, however shrewd and active, a bad confidant and ‘fidus Achates’ for the Duke to have taken up; but the folly and shortsightedness of this proceeding seem so obvious (to say nothing of its villany) that I cannot without strong proofs yield my belief to the story, though Peel is not a man to harbour such strong suspicions on slight grounds.

This morning Lord Lansdowne wrote me word that the Duke had accepted, but it is probable that nothing can be done till Peel returns from Italy. He will accept no post but that of Prime Minister, though the King would prefer to put the Duke there if he would take it.

November 17th, 1834

EFFECT OF THE COUP AT HOLLAND HOUSE. It is only bit by bit that one ascertains the truth in affairs like these. It is true that the King imparted his resolution to Melbourne in a letter, but not true in the sense in which that fact is intended to be taken. I went to Holland House yesterday, but my Lord and my Lady were gone to town. I met the heavy chariot slowly moving back through Kensington, and stopped to talk to them. They seemed in tolerably good spirits, all things considered; like the rest, they had not a suspicion of what was going to happen. Melbourne was to have dined there on Friday, but did not arrive. At eleven o’clock everybody went away, without any tidings having come of Melbourne; the next morning Lord Holland read in the ‘Times’ that the Government was at an end. Allen swore that it must be a hoax, and it was only upon receiving a summons to the Cabinet at twelve instead of two that Holland began to think there was something in it. He told me that the King had two long conversations with Melbourne, in which he explained his opinions, motives, and intentions, and finally gave him the letter, that he might show it to his colleagues. It would now appear that no definite arrangements were proposed to him at all; nothing, in fact, could be settled till it was ascertained what Althorp would do—whether he would continue in office, and what office he would take—but they intended that Lord John Russell should be the leader in the House of Commons, or what they call ‘try it.’ This must have been peculiarly distasteful to the King, who dislikes Lord John, and thinks him a dangerous little Radical, and Melbourne is well aware of this antipathy. On the Friday night Melbourne, with a party of his colleagues—Mulgrave, Ben Stanley, Poulett Thompson, and one or two more—were at the play just opposite to me; the piece was the ‘Regent,’ and it was full of jokes about dismissing Ministers and other things very applicable, at which Melbourne at least (who does not care a button about office, whatever he may do about power) was heartily amused. To-day the King came to town to receive the resignations, for he is resolved to finish off the whole affair at once and make maison nette; they have been ordered therefore to attend at St. James’s and give up their seals.

Five o’clock.—Just returned from St. James’s. In the outer room I found assembled the Duke of Wellington, Lyndhurst, Rosslyn, Goulburn, Hardinge, the Speaker, Jersey, Maryborough, Cowley, whom the Duke had collected in order to form a Privy Council; in the Throne Room the ex-Cabinet congregated, and it was amusing to watch them as they passed through the camp of their enemies, and to see their different greetings and bows; all interchanged some slight civility except Brougham, who stalked through looking as black as thunder and took no notice of anybody. The first question that arose was, What was to be done about the prorogation? The Duke thought they might as well finish that business to-day, and I went on an embassy into the other room to propose it; but they declined to have anything to say to it and evinced great anxiety to take no part in any proceedings of this day. Accordingly Lord Lansdowne explained to the King that the presence of a Lord President was not necessary, and that there was a sufficiency of Tory Lords to form a Council, so his Majesty consented to the late Ministers going away. As I thought the company of those who were coming in would be more cheerful and agreeable than that of those who were going out, I passed my time in the outer room, and had a good deal of conversation with the Duke and Lyndhurst, from whom I gathered everything that I did not know before. After the Whigs had made their exit we went into the Throne Room, and the King sent for Lyndhurst, who only stayed with him a few minutes, and then the Duke and all the Privy Councillors were summoned. After greeting them all, and desiring them to sit down, he began a speech nearly as follows:—‘Having thought proper to make a change in my Government, at the present moment I have directed a new commission to be issued for executing the office of Lord High Treasurer, at the head of which I have placed the Duke of Wellington, and his Grace has kissed hands accordingly upon that appointment. As by the Constitution THE TORIES IN OFFICE. of this country the King can do no wrong, but those persons are responsible for his acts in whom he places his confidence—as I do in the Lords now present—it is necessary to place the seals of the Secretary of State for the Home Department in those hands in which I can best confide, and I have therefore thought proper to confer that office likewise on his Grace, who will be sworn in accordingly.’ Here the Duke came round, and, after much fumbling for his spectacles, took the oath of Secretary of State. The King then resumed, ‘It is likewise necessary for me to dispose of the seals of the other two Secretaries of State, and I therefore place them likewise for the present in the same hands, as he is already First Lord of the Treasury and Secretary of State for the Home Office.’ Then, turning to me, he asked if there was any business, and being told there was none, desired me to retire. When I was gone he began another harangue, to the effect that he had endeavoured, since he had been upon the throne, to do for the best, and that he could not fill up any of the other offices at present.

Now for what I learned from the Duke and Lyndhurst. The former told me that he was just going out hunting when the messenger arrived; that the letter merely said that the King wished to see him, to consult with him as to the steps he should take with regard to the formation of another Government. He went off directly, and at once told the King that the best thing he could do was to send for Sir Robert Peel, and that until he arrived he would undertake to carry on the Government by a provisional arrangement, and would do nothing more until Peel’s return. So the matter accordingly stands, and no other appointment will be made except that the Great Seal will be transferred to Lyndhurst, without, however (at present), his becoming Chancellor. He talked a great deal about the state of the late Government, and what passed between Melbourne and the King, but I heard this still more in detail from Lyndhurst afterwards.

I asked the Duke if he had seen the ‘Times’ this morning. He said ‘No,’ and I told him there appeared in it a considerable disposition to support the new Government, and I thought it would be very advisable to obtain that support if it could be done. He said he was aware that he had formerly too much neglected the press, but he did not think the ‘Times’ could be influenced. I urged him to avail himself of any opportunity to try, and he seemed very well disposed to do so. Lyndhurst, whom I afterwards talked to for a long time, went into the whole business. He said that it was very desirable that the public should know the truth of what had taken place between the King and Melbourne, both in conversation and by letter, because it would be seen that the former was in no way to blame. [This case, such as Lyndhurst described it to me, was afterwards put hypothetically in the ‘Times,’ to which it was furnished probably by Scarlett, but the Whigs emphatically declare that it is not correct, and that it will be found, when Melbourne states the truth (as he will require the King’s permission to do), that his Majesty had no case at all. In the midst of these conflicting assertions time must show.—November 26th.] Melbourne told him that, as he had only undertaken to carry on the Government in consideration of having the assistance of Althorp in the House of Commons, his removal made it necessary to adopt a new organisation altogether, that some considerable concessions to the principle of Reform were judged to be necessary, and the appointment of a successor to Althorp, who should carry them into effect; that he was of opinion that without these the Government could not go on, and at the same time it was necessary to state that there were members of the Cabinet who did not coincide with these views, and who would retire when Parliament met if they were adopted. These were Lord Lansdowne and Spring Rice; Lord John Russell was to lead in the House of Commons, but the loss of Rice would be a severe blow to them. The concessions related principally to Church reform. The disunion of the Cabinet being thus exhibited, it was clear the Government could not go on without some material alteration in its composition. The King urged this and asked Melbourne from what quarter the necessary accession of strength was to be procured, and whether he could hope for it from the POLICY OF LORD LYNDHURST. Conservative interest. He owned that nothing was to be expected from that quarter. It remained, then, that it was only from the more extreme party that their ranks could be recruited. To this the King would not consent, and he therefore imparted to him his resolution of placing the Government in other hands.[1]

[1] [This account of the transaction is confirmed in almost every particular by the statement drawn up by King William himself (or by his directions) for the information of Sir Robert Peel, and first published in Baron Stockmar’s ‘Memoirs’ in 1872.]

Lyndhurst then went off upon the difficulties of their position. I told him that the Duke had said to me, ‘If the King had been a very clever man, he would probably have played a more adroit game, by letting them go on till Parliament met, and then taking the opportunity which would soon present itself of breaking them up;’ that I disagreed with the Duke, and thought it infinitely more convenient that this change should take place while Parliament was not sitting, to which Lyndhurst fully agreed. He said that they must dissolve as soon as Peel came home, that they had no alternative; that it would not do to try this Parliament, to run the chance of a failure and dissolve after having experienced it, that this would be too great a risk. He said that they had several seats quite safe in consequence of their superior management about the registration, such as Leeds and Ripon, where they were sure of both members. He then talked of the tactics to be used, and said they must direct their hostility against the Whigs rather than the Radicals, and make it their principal object to diminish the number of the former. I said I thought this a very perilous game to play, and that if it was avowed and acted upon, it would infallibly produce a reunion between the Whigs and Radicals, who would coalesce to crush their Government; that the Radicals were now very angry with the Whigs, who they thought had deserted the principles they professed, and it should rather be their care to keep Whigs and Radicals asunder than provoke a fresh alliance between them. He said the Whigs were certain to join the Radicals. I asked him if he had seen the ‘Times,’ said what had passed between the Duke and me, and told him he would do well to endeavour to obtain its support. He said he desired nothing so much, but in his situation he did not like personally to interfere, nor to place himself in their power. I told him I had some acquaintance with Barnes, the editor of the paper, and would find out what he was disposed to do, and would let him know, which he entreated I would. The Duke had said, laughing, ‘I hear they call me a Reformer.’ I said, ‘They think you will make as good a Reformer as the present men, if, as Brougham said in Scotland, they would have done less this session than they did the last.’ I asked Lyndhurst if he had seen or heard of the Duke’s letter to the Oxford people, and told him that it was very desirable that credit should be given them for intending to carry on their government upon principles as liberal as that letter evinced, that I hoped there would be no foolish declarations fulminated against Reform, and that they would all be convinced now that matters had been brought to such a state (no matter how and by whom) that the old principle of hostility to all reforms must be abandoned. He said that Peel would, he trusted, be flexible, that if such declarations were made, and such principles announced, they must be upset, but the Tories would be difficult to manage, and discontented if there was not a sufficient infusion of their party; and, on the other hand, the agricultural interest had assembled a force under Lord Chandos, a sort of confederation of several counties, and that Chandos had told him that he and the representatives of their counties would not support any Ministry that would not pledge itself to repeal the malt tax; that they would agree to re-enact the beer tax, but the malt tax must cease.

Brougham had written to Lyndhurst saying he should be ready to resign the Great Seal in a few days, and only wished first to give some judgments, that he was rejoiced at retiring from office and at the prospect of being able to do what was his great delight—devote himself to State affairs without being trammelled and having to fear the imputation of imprudence and indiscretion. ‘He will be,’ Lyndhurst said, ‘the LYNDHURST ON BROUGHAM. most troublesome fellow that ever existed, and do all the mischief he can.’ I said, ‘What can he do? he was emasculated when he left the House of Commons.’ ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘he knows that, but he will come down night after night and produce plans of Reform upon any subject; he will make speeches two or three hours long to very thin Houses, which will be printed in all the newspapers or published by himself and circulated—in fact, a series of pamphlets.’ I said that he had damaged himself so much that I did not think he could do a great deal of harm, with all his speeches and pamphlets. He said he had damaged himself in more ways than one. He then went off upon his admirable social qualities and his generous conduct to his family, both of which may most justly be praised, and said what a melancholy thing it was to see a man with such fine talents mar their effect by his enormous errors in judgment.

Lord Holland, who came out last of all his colleagues, upon his crutches, stopped in great good-humour and said to the Duke, ‘you can’t get me out, I can tell you, without going into Lancashire, for my seal is there.’

The Duke told me that he did not mean to make the slightest alteration in the transaction of the current business in the different offices, which would go on as usual through the under-secretaries, whom he should request to continue at their posts for the purpose. As, however, a disposition was evinced on the part of the late Cabinet not to afford him any facilities, he began to think that this might not impossibly extend to the subordinates, and he said that at all events he would have two people ready to put into the Treasury to transact the business there. I told him if he was in any difficulty he might make any use he pleased of me. There can hardly be any difficulty, however, when there are permanent under-secretaries in all the offices.

Thus ended this eventful day; just four years ago I witnessed the reverse of the picture. I think the Whigs upon this occasion were much more angry and dejected than the Tories were upon that. They had perhaps some reason, for their case is one of rare occurrence—unceremoniously kicked out, not resignations following ineffectual negotiations or baffled attempts at arrangement, but in the plenitude of their fancied strength, and utterly unconscious of danger, they were discarded in the most positive, summary, and peremptory manner. Great, therefore, is their indignation, mortification, and chagrin, and bitter will no doubt be their opposition. They think that the new Government have no chance of getting a House of Commons that will support them, and certainly if they do not, and if the Tories are compelled after a fruitless struggle to resign, miserable will be the condition of the King and the House of Lords, and not very enviable that of any Government that may succeed them.

To speculate upon probabilities is impossible; the new Government at present consists of the Duke, Lyndhurst, and Peel, and till it shall be seen of what materials the complete structure is composed, and what principles they enunciate, it is idle to discuss the matter. Lyndhurst and I agreed cordially that all the evils of the last four years—the breaking up of their Government, and the Reform Bill that was the consequence of that catastrophe—were attributable to the High Tories. Whatever may be their wishes now, they can hardly play the same game over again; they must support this Government, even though it shall not act upon the highflying principles which they so fondly and obstinately cherish. Their salvation and that of all the institutions to which they cling require that they should support the Duke and Peel in carrying on the government upon those principles on which, from the circumstances of the times and the events which have occurred, an Administration must act in order to have a shadow of a chance of being tolerated by the House of Commons and the country. Lyndhurst is sensible of this; I wish Peel may be so likewise. If they both are I have little fear for the Duke.

November 19th, 1834

Laid up these two days with the gout in my knee, so could not go out to hear what is going on. The Duke, I find, after the Council on Monday (losing no time), repaired to the Home Office and ordered the Irish DUKE OF WELLINGTON IN OFFICE. papers to be brought to him, then to the Foreign Office, where he asked for the last despatches from Spain and Portugal, and so on to the Colonial Office, where he required information as to the state of their department. I have no doubt he liked this, to play the part of Richelieu for a brief period, to exercise all the functions of administration. They complain, however, and not without reason, of the unceremonious and somewhat uncourteous mode in which without previous notice he entered into the vacant offices, taking actual possession, without any of the usual preliminary civilities to the old occupants. Duncannon, who had been in the Home Office up to the time of the Council on Monday, and whose papers were unremoved, if he had returned after it, would have found the Duke seated in his still warm chair, issuing directions to Phillips, the under-secretary, while Macdonald, Duncannon’s private secretary, was still at his vocation in the adjoining room. Pretty much the same thing he did in the other three offices. He has fixed his head-quarters at the Home Office, and occasionally roves over the rest. All this is unavoidable under existing circumstances, but it is enough to excite merriment, or censure, or suspicion, according to different tastes and tempers. The King offered to make Melbourne an earl and to give him the Garter, but he declined, and begged it might be given to the Duke of Grafton.

In consequence of what passed between Lyndhurst and me concerning the ‘Times’ (at St. James’s) I made Henry de Ros send for Barnes (who had already at his suggestion adopted a conciliatory and amicable tone towards the embryo Government), who came and put on paper the terms on which he would support the Duke. These were: no mutilation of the Reform Bill, and the adoption of those measures of reform which had been already sanctioned by votes of the House of Commons last session with regard to Church and corporations, and no change in our foreign policy. I have sent his note to Lyndhurst, and begged him to call here to talk the matter over.

Powell, a Tory solicitor and âme damnée of the Speaker’s, has just been here; he declares that the Tories will be 420 strong in the new Parliament, which I mention for the purpose of recording their expectations and being able to compare them hereafter with the event. They have already put themselves in motion, despatched messengers to Lord Hertford and Lowther, and probably if ever these men could be induced to open their purse strings, and make sacrifices and exertions, they will do it now.

Six o’clock.—Lyndhurst has just been here; he had seen the Duke, who had already opened a negotiation with Barnes through Scarlett. I offered to get any statement inserted of the causes of the late break-up, and he will again see the Duke and consider the propriety of inserting one. He said, ‘Why Barnes is the most powerful man in the country.’ The ‘Standard’ has sent to offer its support; the Duke said he should be very happy, but they must understand that the Government was not yet formed.

November 21st, 1834

To-day there was a Council at St. James’s, at which Lyndhurst was sworn in Chancellor. Brougham took leave of the Bar this morning, and I hear did it well. The King speechified as usual, and gave them a couple of harangues; he said it was just four years since he had very unwillingly taken the Seal from Lord Lyndhurst, and he now had great pleasure in restoring it to him. He was all King to-day—talked of having ‘commanded the ex-Ministers to retire;’ ‘desired Lord Brougham to give up the Seal,’ which is true, for the Duke wrote to him for it, and instead of surrendering it in person Brougham sent it to Sir Henry Taylor. The King compared this crisis with that which befell his father in 1784, when he had placed the government in the hands of the Marquis of Rockingham; he said that the present was only a provisional arrangement, but that there was this difference, that the country was now in a state of excitement and disquiet, which it was free from then, but that he had full reliance on the great firmness of the Duke (here the Duke bowed); that the Administration which was then formed had lasted seventeen years (of course he meant that of Pitt, which succeeded the coalition), and BROUGHAM ASKS FOR THE CHIEF BARONSHIP. he hoped that this which was about to be formed would last as long, although at his time of life if it did he could not expect to see the end of it.

November 22nd, 1834

I read Brougham’s speech on quitting the Court of Chancery this morning, and admirable it is—not a syllable about himself, but with reference to the appointment of Pepys, brief, dignified, and appropriate. Si sic omnia, what a man he would be.

November 23rd, 1834

This morning I received a note from Henry de Ros enclosing one from Barnes, who was evidently much nettled at not having received any specific answer to his note stating the terms on which he would support the Duke. Henry was disconcerted also, and entreated me to have an explanation with Lyndhurst. I accordingly went to the Court of Exchequer, where he was sitting, and waited till he came out, when I gave him these notes to read. He took me away with him, and stopped at the Home Office to see the Duke and talk to him on the subject, for he was evidently a little alarmed, so great and dangerous a potentate is the wielder of the thunders of the press. After a long conference he came out and gave me a note the Duke had written, saying he could not pledge himself nor Sir Robert Peel (who was to be the Minister) before he arrived, and eventually I agreed to draw up a paper explanatory of the position of the Duke, and his expectations and views with regard to the ‘Times’ and its support. This I sent to him, and he is to return it to me with such corrections as he may think it requires, and it is to be shown to Barnes to-morrow.

On the way Lyndhurst told me an incredible thing—that Brougham had written to him proposing that he should be made Chief Baron, which would be a great saving to the country, as he was content to take it with no higher salary than his retiring pension and some provision for the expense of the circuit. He said he would show me the letter, but that he had left it with the Duke, so could not then. He knows well enough that, whatever may be the fate of this Government, he has no chance of recovering the Great Seal, but I own I do not comprehend what object he can have in taking this appointment, or what there is of importance enough to induce him to apply for it to his political opponents, and incur all the odium that would be heaped upon him if the fact were generally known. He would not consider himself tongue-tied in the House of Lords any more than Lyndhurst was, for though the former took the situation under a sort of condition, either positive or implied, that he was to observe something like a neutrality, he considered himself entirely emancipated from the engagement when the great Reform battle began, and the consequence was that the secret article in the treaty was also cancelled, and Denman got the Chief Justiceship instead of him. I imagine that the King would not agree to Brougham’s being Chief Baron even though the Duke and Lyndhurst should be disposed to place him on the bench. There might be some convenience in it. He must cut fewer capers in ermine than in plaid trousers. [As might have been expected, this intended stroke of Brougham’s was a total failure. Friends and foes condemn him; Duncannon tried to dissuade him; the rest of his colleagues only knew of it after it was done. Duncannon told me he neither desired nor expected that his offer would be accepted.—November 30th.]

November 24th, 1834

I sent Lyndhurst a paper to be read to Barnes, which he returned to me with another he had written instead, which certainly was much better. The Duke’s note and this paper were read to him, and he expressed himself quite satisfied, was much gratified by an offer Lyndhurst made to see him, and proposed a meeting; so, then, I leave the affair. I took a copy of Lyndhurst’s paper, and then returned it and the note to him.

At night I went to Holland House, where I found Brougham, Lord John Russell, and Lord Lansdowne. Lady Holland told me that she had been the channel of communication by which the arrangement of giving the Chief Baronship to Lyndhurst had been carried on, and she declared that there was no secret article in it. I believe, however, that there was one concluded between Brougham and Lyndhurst, THE WHIGS ON THE RECENT CHANGE. when they met to settle it in Burlington street. Leach brought the original message from Alexander, who offered to resign in favour of Lyndhurst. I hear of nothing but the indignation of the ex-Ministers at the uncourteousness of the Duke’s conduct towards them; but though there is too much truth, there is also some exaggeration in the complaints. It is necessary to be on one’s guard against what one hears, as I verified yesterday in a particular case.

November 26th, 1834

Barnes is to dine with Lord Lyndhurst, and a gastronomic ratification will wind up the treaty between these high contracting parties. I walked home with Duncannon last night; he declared to me that though he could not tell me what did pass between the King and Melbourne, what is stated to have passed is not the truth. I heard elsewhere that the Whigs insist upon it there was no disunion in the Cabinet, and that Lord Lansdowne and Rice had seen the Irish Tithe Bill (the Irish Chancellor being the supposed subject of disunion), and that they both agreed to its provisions. Duncannon said that if the King had insisted upon the dismissal of Brougham, and had consented to go on with the rest, he would have put them in a grand dilemma, for that such a requisition would have met the concurrence of many of their friends and of the public. He thinks Brougham would not have resigned even then, and that it would have been very dangerous to turn him out. All this speculation matters little now. He is thoroughly convinced that the present appearances of indifference and tranquillity in the country are delusive, and that the elections will rouse a dormant spirit, and that the minor differences of Reformers and Liberals of all denominations will be sunk in a determined hostility to the Government of Peel and the Duke. He says that the Irish Church must bring the question between the two parties to an immediate and decisive test; that if the new Government are beaten upon it, as he thinks inevitable, out they must go; that the return of the Government just broken up will be out of the question, and the King must submit to receive one of still stronger measures. Duncannon does not conceal the ultra-Liberal nature of his opinions, and he would not regret the accomplishment of his predictions. It cannot be concealed that there is nothing very improbable in them, although I am far from regarding the event as so certain as he does; still less can I partake of the blind confidence and sanguine hopes of the Tories. One thing is, however, very clear, that the Whigs and the Radicals will join (as Lyndhurst said they were sure to do), and that they will both declare war to the knife against the Tory Government. The best hope and chance is that a number of really independent men, unpledged, may be returned, who will hold something like a balance between the extreme parties, resist all violent propositions, protect the King from insult and peremptory dictation, and afford the new Government a fair trial, and on the other hand declare at once and without reserve their determination to continue without interruption the course of rational and effectual reform, making a virtual abandonment of High Tory maxims and acquiescence in the desires of the country with respect to the correction of abuses the indispensable conditions of the present Government’s retention of office.

November 27th, 1834

Yesterday Lord Wharncliffe came to me. He had just been with the Duke, who received him very cordially, and showed him the correspondence and minutes of conversations between the King and Melbourne. He says that it is evident that Melbourne despaired of being able to carry on the Government, and that the gist of the King’s objection was the nomination of Lord John Russell to lead the Government in the House of Commons, which His Majesty said he could not agree to, because he had already declared his sentiments with regard to the Church and his resolution of supporting it to the bishops and on other occasions, and that Lord John Russell had signalised himself in the House of Commons by his destructive opinions with regard to the Establishment. I should be glad to see this correspondence and judge for myself, but I can’t go to the Duke on purpose. Wharncliffe says that he is quite satisfied from his conversation that the Duke is thoroughly convinced of the necessity of adopting a line of conduct in conformity with the POLICY OF THE PEEL GOVERNMENT. state of public opinion and determination in the country, and that he is prepared to abandon (as far as he is concerned) the old Tory maxims. So far so good; but there is no concealing that, however this may (if Peel concurs) facilitate the formation and secure the duration of the new Government, there is a revolting inconsistency in it all, involving considerable loss of character. He gave no indication of such a disposition during the last session; it is all reserved for the period when he is possessed of power. It is, however, at present all very vague, and we shall see what his notion is of a Liberal course of policy. I fear that he and Peel are both too deeply committed on the Irish Church question to suffer them to propose any compromise likely to be satisfactory with regard to it, and then the difficulties of the question are so enormous that it seems next to impossible to compose them. The respective parties drive at different objects; one wants to appropriate the surplus revenue, the other wants to secure to the parsons their tithes, and while they are quarrelling with unmitigable fierceness upon these points, the Irish settle the question by refusing to pay any tithe, and by evading every attempt that is made to procure the payment in some other shape or under some other denomination.

The Duke told Wharncliffe that both he and the King were fully aware of the importance of the step that his Majesty had taken—that this is, in fact, the Conservatives’ last cast—and that he (the King) is resolved neither to flinch nor falter, but having embarked with them, to nail his flag to the mast and put forth all the constitutional authority of the Crown in support of the Government he is about to form. I am strongly inclined to think that this determination, when properly ascertained, will have considerable influence, and that, provided a respectable and presentable Cabinet be formed and Liberal measures adopted, they will succeed. Though the Crown is not so powerful as it was, there probably still remains a great deal of attachment and respect to it, and if the King can show a fair case to the country, there will be found both in Parliament and out of it a vast number of persons who will reflect deeply upon the consequences of coming to a serious collision with the Throne, and consider whether the exigency is such as to justify such extremities. It may be very desirable to purify the Irish Church, to remodel corporations, and to relieve the Dissenters in various ways, and nobody can entertain a shadow of doubt that all these things must and will be done; but the several cases are not of great and pressing urgency. The fate of the nation does not depend upon their being all accomplished and arranged off-hand, and if the Government which the King may form exhibits no spirit uncongenial to the public feeling generally, and wars not with the genius of Reform, which is dear to the people, it is my belief that a great majority of the nation will shrink from the mere possibility of a direct breach with the King, and from offering him an insult in the shape of dictation and peremptory demand, which he would consider himself bound in honour and in conscience to resist.

I walked home with Duncannon at night, and I told him this; he seemed struck by it, but still maintained that Parliament would, in his opinion, not accept the new Ministry on any terms. If Peel makes a High Tory Government, and holds High Tory language, I think so too, and I can scarcely hope that it should be otherwise. My mind, I own, misgives me about Peel; I hope everything from his capacity and dread everything from his character.

November 28th, 1834

This morning I got a letter from my uncle the Duke of Portland, complaining of the Weights and Measures Bill, and begging that, if possible, an Order in Council might be passed suspending the operation of the Act. I availed myself of this opportunity to see the Duke of Wellington, and went to the Home Office to consult him on the contents of this letter. After settling this business I began about the recent negotiation between Lyndhurst and Barnes, and this led to a discussion of the circumstances and situation of affairs, in the course of which he told me everything that had occurred. I asked him if he had sent the ‘Statement’ which appeared in the ‘Times.’ He said no, and that he was utterly at a loss to guess how they had got THE DUKE’S ACCOUNT OF THE CRISIS. it, but that by whatever means it was as near as possible to the truth. I said that this was utterly and peremptorily denied by the other side, on which he called Algy,[2] and desired him to bring a letter which he had written to certain Peers of his party—a circular—which he read to me. In this he explained in general terms (without going into particulars) the causes of the break-up of the late Government and the advice he had given the King, and he told me that he had got papers and letters in confirmation of every word that he had written (Melbourne’s correspondence with the King and the minute of the conversation), all which he said he would show me then, but that it would take up too much time. However, as we proceeded to talk it over he told me all that these papers contained, or at least all that was material. The substance as I gathered it and as I remember it was this:—Lord Melbourne had written to the King and descanted on the great difficulty in which the Government was placed in consequence of Lord Spencer’s death, and had intimated that the measures which he should find it necessary to propose to him would produce a difference of opinion in the Cabinet—in point of fact that it was, to say the least, probable that Rice and Lansdowne would retire. When he went down to Brighton, and they talked it over, Lord Melbourne put it to his Majesty whether under existing circumstances he would go on, placing himself in their hands, or whether he would dispense with their services, only recommending that if he resolved not to endeavour to go on with this Government (with such modifications as circumstances demanded) he would declare such resolution as speedily as possible.[3] The Duke says he did not actually tender his or their resignations, did not throw up the Government, but very near it. The King suggested the difficulty of his situation, and Melbourne told him ‘he had better send for the Duke of Wellington, and depend upon it he would get him out of it.’ ‘In fact,’ said the Duke, ‘Melbourne told him I should do just what I did.’ Accordingly the King did send for the Duke, and it is true that Melbourne offered to be the bearer of his Majesty’s letter. When some question was asked about the messenger, Melbourne said, ‘No messenger will go so quick as I shall; you had better give it to me.’ The Duke said that no man could have acted more like a gentleman and a man of honour than Melbourne did, and that his opinion of him was greatly raised. I told him that I thought Melbourne could not have given his colleagues an exact and correct account of what had passed, for that they could not conceive themselves to have been so ill-treated if it was so, and that if he had told them all they would probably have thought he had abandoned their interests. He said that it was evident Melbourne was very happy to disengage himself from the concern. (As all this case will probably be discussed in Parliament, we shall see that the debate will turn principally upon the fact of disunion, and I have little doubt that Rice and Lansdowne will declare that they had no intention of quitting. So much depends upon verbal niceties, and the bounds between truth and falsehood are so narrow, the partition so thin, that they will, I expect, try to back up their party without any absolute breach of veracity.) When the King was reading the papers to him (the Duke), and telling him all that had passed, he was in a great fright lest the Duke should think he had acted imprudently, and should decline to accept the Government. Then the Duke said, ‘Sir, I see at once how it all is. Your Majesty has not been left by your Ministers, but something very like it;’ and His Majesty was rejoiced when the Duke at once acquiesced in taking office.

[2] [Mr. Algernon Greville, brother of Mr. Charles Greville, was private secretary to the Duke of Wellington both in and out of office.]

[3] [This statement has certainly not been confirmed by the subsequent publication of papers or by the narrative of the King himself. It is very extraordinary that the Duke of Wellington should have been led to believe it; but this is only another proof of the extreme difficulty of arriving at an exact knowledge of what passes in conversation between two persons, even when both of them are acting in perfect good faith.]

The Duke said he had received very satisfactory letters from all (or many) of the Peers to whom he had written—from the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Mansfield, the most violent of the Tories. I said, ‘Are they ready to place themselves in your hands, and agree to whatever you may think it LORD STANLEY’S POSITION. necessary to do?’ He said, ‘I think they are; I think they will do anything.’ He told me that affairs were left in a wretched state in the Treasury, that the late Ministers were no men of business, and minutes had been proposed to him finding fault with various things; but he had refused to do any such thing, and he would repair any error he could without casting any blame on others. On the whole he thought everything looked well, and that he should, when Peel arrived, put the concern into his hands in a satisfactory state.

It is perfectly clear, in the midst of assertion on one side and contradiction on the other, that in the first instance there was neither plot nor plan on the part of the King or anybody else. The death of Lord Spencer really did create an enormous embarrassment, which Melbourne felt much more than any of his colleagues; and though he told the King ‘that he was ready to go on with the Government if such was his pleasure,’ he felt no desire to be taken at his word, and no confidence or expectation that the arrangements he proposed would be palatable to the King or of a permanent nature. He seems to have been candid and straightforward in all that he said, and to have contemplated his dismissal as a very probable result of his correspondence and conversations with his Majesty. The Irish Church has evidently caused the split; the intended reforms in it and the elevation of Lord John Russell to the post of leader were more than the King could digest. I wish I had seen the papers, for the sake of knowing what it is they proposed to the King, and how far he was disposed to go.

November 29th, 1834

I told the Duke yesterday what I had learnt from George Bentinck (and he from the Duke of Richmond) of Lord Stanley’s[4] disposition. He is not at all desirous to be mixed up in the new concern, but has no objection to take office under Peel, and he is ready to listen to any proposition that may be made to him; but he is very much afraid of being accused of dereliction of principle by his old colleagues and friends. It is clear, therefore, that he would reject any overture unless it included an agreement that the Government should be conducted upon Liberal principles, and unless his friends were invited to join the Government with him. The Duke took very little notice of this.

[4] [Edward, 12th Earl of Derby, died on October 21, 1834, from which date his grandson, afterwards 14th Earl of Derby, assumed the courtesy title of Lord Stanley.]

December 1st, 1834

Went to St. Paul’s yesterday evening, to hear Sydney Smith preach. He is very good; manner impressive, voice sonorous and agreeable, rather familiar, but not offensively so, language simple and unadorned, sermon clever and illustrative. The service is exceedingly grand, performed with all the pomp of a cathedral and chanted with beautiful voices; the lamps scattered few and far between throughout the vast space under the dome, making darkness visible, and dimly revealing the immensity of the building, were exceedingly striking. The Cathedral service thus chanted and performed is my beau idéal of religious worship—simple, intelligible, and grand, appealing at the same time to the reason and the imagination. I prefer it infinitely to the Catholic service, for though I am fond of the bursts of music and the clouds of incense, I can’t endure the undistinguishable sounds with which the priest mumbles over the prayers.

I heard yesterday that there has been a breeze between Duncannon and Melbourne, arising out of his speech at Derby. This was in answer to an address they voted him, and it was exceedingly temperate and reserved. In the course of it he said that ‘he had no personal cause of complaint.’ A warfare has been raging between the ‘Standard’ and the ‘Chronicle’ about what passed, and the articles in the latter have been supplied by Duncannon or some of them; these are at variance with Melbourne’s avowal, and they are very angry with him for what he said, and want him to make some statement (or to authorise one) of a different kind and more corresponding with their own declarations and complaints. This he refuses to do, and they have been squabbling about it with some vivacity. All this induces me the more to think that Melbourne has never told his colleagues how very easily and contentedly he gave up the reins of Government, not intending to deceive them, but LORD LYNDHURST’S DINNER TO MR. BARNES. from a desire to avoid exasperating people whom he found so much disturbed and so bitter.

December 2nd, 1834

Dined with Lord Lyndhurst yesterday; the dinner for Mr. Barnes. He had collected a miscellaneous party, droll enough—Mrs. Fox, Baron Bolland, Follett, Hardinge, &c. The Duke and Lord Chandos were to have been there. Barnes told Hardinge there was a great cry getting up in the country against the Duke. After dinner I had a long conversation with Hardinge, on the whole satisfactory. He said that he had been instrumental in bringing the Duke and Peel together again, after a considerable coldness and estrangement had existed between them; that after the failure in May 1832, when Peel refused to have anything to do with the concern, he had called upon him and insisted upon taking him to Apsley House and spontaneously consulting with the Duke how he should withdraw from the business; that with great difficulty he had persuaded him, and together they went, from which time the Duke and he have again become friends. He is convinced that Peel will at once make a fair and cordial overture to Stanley, and thinks it of the greatest importance that Stanley’s disposition and probable demands should be ascertained before Peel arrives. I told him what I had before told the Duke, and what I had reason to believe were Stanley’s sentiments. He asked whether Stanley would insist upon Richmond and Ripon coming in with him; he said that for the former he (Hardinge) was sure Peel would never admit him without the Duke’s full and especial consent, which, however, he has no doubt the Duke would give without hesitation, and overlook any personal cause of offence, to facilitate a desirable arrangement; that there was some dispute among his friends whether it would be better that Stanley should join now or only support (if he would) at first and join afterwards. I said, ‘Unquestionably it is better he should join at once,’ to which Hardinge assented, though he added that many thought otherwise, that if Stanley made difficulties and declined the junction, he was persuaded Peel would keep nothing open, and would not make provisional arrangements to admit him and his party when they should think it more safe and convenient to unite their future to his. What they would like evidently is to take Stanley and Graham and wash their hands of Ripon and Richmond, but I think they will be forced to admit them all, for Lyndhurst owned to me that he did not think they could stand without Stanley; and the King is so anxious for it that if Stanley insists on terms which are not very unreasonable (under the circumstances) they will not be refused. Hardinge said that four seats in the Cabinet would be a large share, but that the best men among them were prepared to make every sacrifice of their own just expectations or claims to render any arrangement feasible that circumstances might require, that ‘all was right with the Speaker,’ and as for the High Tories, the sooner they cut the connection with them the better, but that they (the High Tories) were now at their feet.

He then went into the details of the King’s case with his late Ministers—much to the same effect as I had before heard from the Duke and Lyndhurst, but perhaps rather more clearly. He said that Melbourne had stated to the King that questions must soon be brought under the consideration of the Cabinet relating to the Irish Church on which a considerable difference of opinion prevailed, and that if the opinion of the majority of the Cabinet should be acquiesced in by his Majesty, the secession of two or more members of it would in all probability follow; that if the desire of his Majesty to compromise these differences of opinion and prevent any separation should have the effect of preventing such discussions in the Cabinet as should lead to any disunion for the time, it was only fair and right to own to him that it would be in the power of any member of the House of Commons who should become acquainted with the difference of opinion which prevailed to bring the question to an issue; and if such a thing should occur, the resignations, he apprehended, would only be retarded. The King, under these circumstances, asked how he proposed to fill up the vacancies that would thus occur, whether from any but what is called SIR H. HARDINGE ON THE LATE CRISIS. the extreme party, and whether he (Melbourne), with a knowledge of the King’s sentiments, could advise him to have recourse to Lord Durham and others of the same opinions. Melbourne acknowledged that he could look nowhere else, and that he certainly could not give the King such advice, upon which he said that as the breach sooner or latter appeared inevitable, he thought it better that the dissolution of the Government should take place at once, and he preferred making the change during the recess, when he should have time to form other arrangements, rather than have it forced upon him during all the excitement of the session of Parliament. This, I think, was the pith of the thing, and in my opinion it forms a good case. Hardinge said that if the King had been a clever man he would have postponed his decision and spun out the correspondence, in the course of which he would have acquired pretexts sufficient. This, however, explains what the other side means by insisting that there was no difference of opinion in the Cabinet; there was none actual, but it was on the prospective disunion so clearly announced to the King, and impending at such an indefinite and probably inconvenient time, that he took his resolution. Melbourne appears to have been bullied into a sort of exculpatory letter on account of his speech at Derby, saying that he spoke of having no personal cause of complaint because the King was very civil to him.

December 5th, 1834

The dinner that Lyndhurst gave to Barnes has made a great uproar, as I thought it would. I never could understand the Chancellor’s making such a display of this connexion, but whatever he may be as a lawyer, and how great soever in his wig, I suspect that he is deficient in knowledge of the world and those nice calculations of public taste and opinion which are only to be acquired by intuitive sagacity exercised in the daily communion of social life.

Melbourne has had to make another speech, which smells of the recent reproaches of his colleagues; without exactly recanting what he had said, he has amplified, modified, and explained, so as to chime in to a certain degree with their assertions.

Brougham has been made to recall his letter offering to be Chief Baron. It matters not what he does for the present; his star is totally eclipsed, but not, I think, for ever quenched; his vast abilities must find scope and produce effect. It is true he can never thoroughly inspire confidence, but if adversity teaches him wisdom, and cools the effervescence of his temper and imagination, nothing can prevent his political resurrection, thought not in ‘all his original brightness.’

December 6th, 1834

The Chancellor called on me yesterday about getting young Disraeli into Parliament (through the means of George Bentinck)[5] for Lynn. I had told him George wanted a good man to assist in turning out William Lennox, and he suggested the above-named gentleman, whom he called a friend of Chandos. His political principles must, however, be in abeyance, for he said that Durham was doing all he could to get him by the offer of a seat, and so forth; if, therefore, he is undecided and wavering between Chandos and Durham, he must be a mighty impartial personage. I don’t think such a man will do, though just such as Lyndhurst would be connected with.

[5] [Lord George Bentinck was member for Lynn Regis. It is curious that this, the first mention of Mr. Disraeli in political life, should have originated with the man who afterwards became his most powerful coadjutor and ally.]

Melbourne’s two speeches at Derby, and the history connected with them, exhibit him in a very discreditable and lamentable point of view—compelled by the menaces and reproaches of Duncannon and the rest to eat his words; and all this transacted by a sort of negotiation and through the mediation of his vulgar secretary, Tom Young, and Mrs. Lane Fox. Such a thing it is to be without firmness and decision of character. Melbourne is a gentleman, liberal and straightforward, with no meanness, and incapable of selfish trickery and intrigue, but he is habitually careless and insouciant, loves ease, and hates contests and squabbles, and though he would never tell a lie, he has probably not that LORD JOHN RUSSELL’S SPEECH AT TOTNESS. stern and rigid regard for truth which would make him run any risk rather than that of concealing anything or suffering a false impression to be formed or conveyed with respect to any matter he might be concerned in.

Lyndhurst told me that Peel’s letter was short and cautious, but satisfactory. He (Lyndhurst) is doing all he can to draw closer the connexion between the ‘Times’ and the Government, and communicates constantly with Barnes. He said they must make a liberal and comprehensive Government, and sketched an outline of such a Cabinet as he would like—four Stanleys, six of their own people, and two High Tories, Chandos certainly, and Knatchbull probably; but even if Stanley’s other scruples can be got over, how he is to be induced to unite with Chandos and Knatchbull or any such men I guess not. However, the time is drawing very near.

December 7th, 1834

In a letter from the Duke of Portland to George Bentinck yesterday he says that the Duke of Newcastle had been there the day before, had talked politics, and declared that in his opinion the leaders of his party ought not to give way upon any one point. This is so different from what the Duke of Wellington understood from his letter to him that I sent the letter to the Duke, and afterwards I met him. He said he thought the Duke of Portland must be mistaken, for the Duke of Newcastle’s letter to him was quite in another sense. This is one of the silliest of the High Tories, but there will yet be some trouble with the tribe. John Russell, in a speech somewhere, has made assertions still more positive and unqualified than Melbourne’s, which, if correct, throw over the King and his case. There is a fearful lie somewhere, which I suppose will come out in time. It is impossible to make up one’s mind in the midst of statements so different and yet so positive. George Bentinck sent to Sturges Bourne to know if he would come in for Lynn, but he declined. Disraeli he won’t hear of.

December 8th, 1834

I read John Russell’s speech at Totness last night; it was a very masterly performance, suitable to the occasion, and effective. He endeavoured to establish these points: first, that the Duke of Wellington had continually opposed all Reform measures and been the enemy of all Reform principles; secondly, that they (the late Government) had done a great deal, without doing too much; and thirdly, that there really had occurred no circumstances in the Cabinet, or with the King, sufficient to account for their summary dismissal. There is no denying that his first position is incontrovertible, that he makes out a very fair case for his second, and his argument on the third throws great doubt upon the matter in my mind, having previously had no doubt that the King had a good case to show to the world. It is not so much the Duke’s opposition to this or that particular measure, but the whole tenor of his conduct and opinions, which it puts one in despair to look at. There would be no gross inconsistency in his maintaining our foreign relations in their present state, notwithstanding his repeated attacks upon Palmerston’s policy. He need not refuse to suffer any legislative interference with the Church, English or Irish, merely because he opposed the Tithe Bill last year (great, by the way, as I always thought that blunder was, and as events will prove it to have been), but in his opposition to the one or the other we look in vain for some saving declaration to prove that it is to the specific measure he is hostile, and not to the principles from which it emanates. If he now comes into office with a resolution to carry on the investigations that have been set on foot, and to propose various measures of reform in consequence of them, however wisely he may act in bending to circumstances, there is no escaping from the fact that his conduct in opposition and in office is as different as light from darkness, and that he adopts when in office those principles in the gross which he utterly repudiates and opposes with all his might when he is out. I should like much to have a conversation with the Duke, and (if it were possible to speak so freely to him) to set before him all the apparent inconsistencies of his conduct, to trace his political career step by step, and tell him concisely all that he may have read scattered through a hundred newspapers, and then hear what he would say, what his notions are of political honour and consistency, and how he INCONSISTENCIES OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. reconciles his general conduct with these maxims. I am persuaded that he deludes himself by some process of extraordinary false reasoning, and that the habits of intense volition, jumbled up with party prejudices, old associations, and exposure to never-ceasing flattery, have produced the remarkable result we see in his conduct; notwithstanding the enormous blunders he has committed, and his numerous and flagrant inconsistencies, he has never lost his confidence in himself, and what is more curious, has contrived to retain that of a host of followers. In each particular act, and on every fresh occasion, there appear in him a decision, singleness of purpose, and straightforwardness which are inseparable from a conviction of being in the right, and he never seems to apprehend for a moment that he can be liable to the imputation of any selfish or dishonourable motive. And strange and paradoxical as it may appear, I do not think he is justly liable to it except when he is under the influence of some strong personal feeling. Such was his jealousy and dislike of Canning, and this led him into perhaps the most enormous of all his political misdeeds, the overthrow of the Corn Bill of 1827. Upon other occasions I attribute his conduct to the circumstance of his being governed by one leading idea, and to his incapability of taking enlarged and comprehensive views of political affairs, such as embrace not only the complex relations of the present, but the ostensible probabilities of the future. His judgment, instead of being determined by profound habits of reflection, an extensive knowledge of history, and accurate acquaintance with human nature, seems to be wholly influenced by his own wishes and his own conception of what the exigencies of the moment require. It would not be difficult, I think, and perhaps I may hereafter attempt to apply this delineation of his disposition to the events of his life, and to show how the leading idea in his mind has been the constant guide which he has followed, sometimes to the detriment of the best interests of the country and sometimes to that of his own reputation.

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CHAPTER XXVI.

Sir R. Peel arrives — The First Council — The King’s Address — Lord Stanley and Sir J. Graham decline to join the Government — Lord Wharncliffe and Sir E. Knatchbull join — The Ministers sworn in — Peel’s Address to his Constituents — Dinner at the Mansion House — Offer to Lord Roden — Prospects of the Election — Stanley’s Want of Influence — Pozzo di Borgo’s Views — Russia and England — Nomination of Lord Londonderry to St. Petersburg — Parliament dissolved — State of the Constituencies — A Governor-General for India — Sebastiani and St. Aulaire — Anecdote of Princess Metternich — The City Elections — Lord Lyndhurst’s View of the Government — Violence of the Opposition — Close Contest at Rochester — Sidney Herbert — Sir John Hobhouse’s Views — Anecdotes — County Elections — The Queen supposed to be with Child — Church Reform — Dinner of Ministers — Story of La Roncière — The King’s Crotchets.

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December 10th, 1834

Sir Robert arrived yesterday morning at eight o’clock. Great was the bustle among his clan; there were the Ross’s, the Plantas, and all of them pacing before his door while he was still closeted with the Duke. Sefton came up to town last night, and declares that Lord Stanley has announced his intention of supporting Wood for Lancashire and opposing Francis Egerton, which, if true, is ominous against a junction with Peel.

December 11th, 1834

A Council yesterday. The King insisted upon giving Peel the seal of the Exchequer in Council, though it was not necessary. His object was to make a speech. The Chief Justice, who was trying a cause at Westminster, kept us waiting, and at last a carriage was sent to fetch him. Peel made his first appearance full of spirits and cordiality to the numerous greetings which hailed him. He told me that he had seen the letter which I had written to his brother Jonathan, that he agreed to every word of it, and that he had written to Stanley in exact conformity to LORD STANLEY DECLINES TO JOIN SIR R. PEEL. what I had said. This was a letter I had written to Jonathan Peel, giving him an account of the state of things here, and expressing at some length my own view of Peel’s situation and of what he ought to do. When Sir Robert got to Paris he gave it to him, and as he approves of it I am certain that his Government will be liberal enough; but then the Irish Church! Stanley’s answer may come to-day, but they expect him in town at all events. When Denman arrived at St. James’s he had an audience and gave up the seal. The Council was assembled, and the King, who had got his speech all ready, first asking the Duke of Wellington if he should go on, to which the Duke assented, delivered himself ‘in apt and gracious terms.’ It really was (however superfluous) not at all ill done, recapitulating what everybody knows, declaring that Sir Robert Peel was now Minister of this country, and thanking the Duke of Wellington in his own name and in that of the country for the part he had taken and for the manner in which he had conducted the public business during the interval; he said that he should request him to hold the seals of the three offices for a few days longer. He was not ridiculous to-day. With regard to Lynn, I have handed George Bentinck over to William Peel and Granville Somerset, and so washed my hands of it.

December 13th, 1834

Stanley has declined; I know not in what terms, but it is said courteous. Now, then, nothing remains but a Tory Government; the Whigs are triumphant that Stanley will have nothing to do with it. Lord Grey, who was moderate, has been lashed into fury by their putting up Liddell for Northumberland. Charles Grey at Holland House the other night threw them all into dismay by the language he held—‘that if the Duke and Peel followed his father’s steps, and adopted Liberal measures, he should support them.’ Lady Holland was almost in fits, and Allen in convulsions.

December 14th, 1834

Lord Wharncliffe, to his great joy, was sent for by Peel yesterday, and very civilly invited to join the new Cabinet. He thought it necessary to enquire if he meant to be liberal, and on receiving an assurance to that effect he at once consented. Graham was with Peel, having come up to town on getting his letter, but he declined joining. Wharncliffe told me that the correspondence between Peel and Stanley was extremely civil. The Cabinet is now pretty nearly completed; they all dined together at Peel’s yesterday. I asked Wharncliffe how Sir Edward Knatchbull was to be converted into a Liberal, and he said, ‘Oh, there will be no difficulty; he is very reasonable.’ It would be (to me) a bitter pill to swallow to take Knatchbull; he is the man who led that section of High Tories which threw out the Duke’s Government in 1830. The Whigs are sorry that Graham does not join, for they hate him and want to be rid of him. They are also discomposed at a letter of Stanley’s in reply to an address to the King from Glasgow that has been forwarded to him to present, in which his sentiments appear to be alarmingly Conservative.

Stanley and Graham will support the Government, and it now appears that the Duke of Wellington is the real obstacle to their joining. To Peel Stanley has no objection; he has spoken of him in the highest terms; but after the speech which the Duke made when Lord Grey went out, in which he attacked him and his Government with a virulence which gave great disgust at the time, Stanley feels that he could not with any regard to his own honour, and compatibly with his respect and attachment for Lord Grey, form a part of this Government. So there is another evil resulting from one of those imprudences which the Duke blurts out without reflection, thinking only of the present time and acting upon his impulse at the moment. Spring Rice, whom I met yesterday, said that their great object (in which they hoped to succeed) was to keep the whole of their party together—their party in the House of Commons, of course. Whether he included Stanley in this or not I don’t know, but if he did he reckons probably without his host.

December 15th, 1834

Met the Duke of Richmond yesterday, who came to town for the cattle show, and had a long talk with him; he said they had discussed the whole matter (Stanley, Graham, and himself) at Knowsley, and decided not to DUKE OF RICHMOND AND SIR E. KNATCHBULL. join; that the Duke of Wellington’s violent speech against all the members of the late Government and their policy made it quite impossible, but that they were determined to support Peel if they possibly could; and he seems not apprehensive there would be any difficulty; he thinks Stanley’s support out of office will be more valuable than if he had joined them, and perhaps under the above circumstances (for I had forgotten the Duke’s speech) it may be. Nothing can be more satisfactory than the state of feeling between them all; and certainly all those who would have followed Stanley, had he taken office, may find as strong motives for supporting Government now as they could have done then. I told Richmond I thought Knatchbull was so High a Tory that I did not see how they could make him a Liberal. He said he was not at all strongly anti-Liberal, and that he had had the option of being a member of Lord Grey’s Government, he having been himself commissioned to offer him the Secretaryship at War. This, however, it is very clear, was offered as a reward for the service he had done in giving the mortal thrust to the Duke, and as he is an honest man, and wanted at that time the Duke’s life rather than his purse, he was probably satisfied with his exploit, and never would have done on any terms (what Richmond and others did) so inconsistent a thing as to join a Reform Ministry. It is, however, remarkable that this should have occurred. See what it was. Knatchbull, a High Tory, turns out the Duke and a Tory Government, and lets in the Whigs; he is offered office by the Whig Minister to whose triumph he has been instrumental, refuses it; and afterwards, on the exclusion of the same Whig Ministry, is offered office by the returning Tory Government, which he had four years ago destroyed, and takes it.

December 16th, 1834

A great field-day at Court yesterday; all the new Ministers sworn in, except the Colonial Secretary, who is not yet appointed, and some subordinate officers. The King addressed each of them on his kissing hands, and to Scarlett he made a very pretty speech about the administration of the law. Lord Rosslyn was substituted for Lord Aberdeen (only in the morning) as President of the Council; why did not appear, but I had learnt from Hardinge (in a conversation I had with him) that the arrangements would in some respects be only temporary, and made with a view to the subsequent admission of Stanley and his party; the nature of their communications has been such as to afford a very fair prospect of that junction. Peel is much elated at having got Sugden to go to Ireland as Chancellor. Lord de Grey has been asked to be Lord-Lieutenant. I find Stanley in his letter to Peel said that the Duke of Wellington’s speech was an obstacle to his joining the Government. These scruples they think unreasonable; and they allege his own thimblerig speech, which was more violent against the Whig Government and more insulting than anything the Duke said; but they should comprehend that this speech forms one of the ingredients of the difficulty, as it in fact hampers his political conduct by putting him on uncomfortable personal terms with his old friends.

December 20th, 1834

Peel’s letter to his constituents has appeared as his manifesto to the country; a very well written and ingenious document, and well calculated to answer the purpose, if it can be answered at all. The letter was submitted to the Cabinet at a dinner at Lyndhurst’s on Wednesday last, and they sat till twelve o’clock upon it, after which it was copied out, a messenger despatched to the three great newspapers (‘Times,’ ‘Herald,’ and ‘Post’) to announce its arrival, and at three in the morning it was inserted. The Whigs affect to hold it very cheap, and to treat it as an artful but shallow and inefficient production. It is rather too Liberal for the bigoted Tories, but all the moderate people are well satisfied with it. Of course it has made a prodigious sensation, and nobody talks of anything else.

December 24th, 1834

Dined yesterday at the Mansion House; never having before seen a civic feast, I thought this a good opportunity. The Egyptian Hall is fine enough; the other rooms miserable. A great company, and all Tories almost. The Lord Mayor boasted of his impartiality, and how he had PROSPECTS OF THE MINISTRY. invited all parties alike, but none of the Whigs would go. Peel spoke tolerably, but not so well as I expected; manly enough and in good tone. In the speeches of the others there was nothing remarkable. Ward made a violent speech, attacking Grote and Lushington, though not by name. The loyal party in the City are making great exertions, and they expect to bring in three out of the four members, which I doubt, not because I know anything of the matter, but because they are generally out in their calculations. In the meantime the vacant places have been gradually filled up, and generally with Tories of a bad description—e.g. Roden[1] as Lord Steward, which, though no political situation, would do harm merely from his name appearing in the list. It never will be believed that such men as he—bigoted and obstinate, and virtuous moreover—will consent to join Peel if he has resolved to act upon principles diametrically the reverse of those they have ever sustained, and they persist (the Whigs) in asserting that every fresh appointment of this kind is a new pledge that he means to govern on Tory principles.

[1] Roden refused on account of his health.—January 4th.

A few days ago I fell in with Hobhouse, and he walked with me to my office. He told me that he and his fellow Committee men at Ellice’s, astonished at the confident expectations of the Carltonians as to the result of a dissolution, went over the list scrupulously and jealously, and resolved to know the worst; that after making every allowance they could, and excluding all doubtful places and all Stanleyites, they found themselves with a majority of 195 votes, and deducting from that 50 men who might be Waverers, and on whom it might not be safe to count, they still found 145, which they saw no possibility of disputing. On the other hand the Conservatives, without going to actual numbers, retain their confidence, though I confess I do not think on any sufficient grounds as far as present appearances go. As far as I can judge by the slight indications which reach me, the managers of the late Government are acting with great dexterity, and I begin to think that Rice’s expectation of being able to hold together the whole of those who are not with the new Government is not so chimerical as I at first imagined. Although there is a little feeling for the ex-Ministry and no excitement in the country, there is a calm which is quite as alarming to the hopes of one party as it is represented to be expressive with regard to the power of the other, for unless some enthusiasm can be created, some loyal motion to disturb the inertia of the mass, it must be considered as standing much in the same situation as before, and that certainly is not one favourable to the desires and pretensions of the Conservative Government. Then within this day or two there appear indications of a disposition to hold off on the part of Stanley and Graham, if not to join with their old friends, which might well alarm any watchful and anxious mind. Stanley’s speech at Glasgow contained not a syllable expressive of regard for the royal prerogative, or of respect for Peel, or of a disposition to try the new Government, but extravagant compliments to Lord Grey, and Whig language generally. I asked Hardinge last night what he thought of it, and he said it struck him as ‘too Whiggish.’ I then told him that I was struck in like manner, and that I had seen a letter from Graham in the morning, the tone of which I did not at all like. It was to George Bentinck about the Lynn election, for which he was to endeavour to find a man, and failed. He said that Stanley’s speech was very good; blamed the composition of the New Government, which would not give satisfaction, though it must always be remembered that Peel had made use of the old materials because he could not procure new ones; said that people were now beginning to discover that the Whigs need not be reduced to the alternative of joining with the Radicals or the Tories, and that when a standard was set up (Stanley’s of course) on Conservatively Liberal principles he thought plenty would be found to join it. It is, therefore, very questionable what course Stanley will pursue, even though a party may range itself under him, which I doubt, and no position can be much worse than this PROSPECTS OF THE ELECTION. Government would be in if they were to hold office at his discretion, and only while he should be pleased to throw his weight into their scale. As far as one can judge his weight will be small, for it is very remarkable that while for some weeks George Bentinck has been endeavouring to find a Stanleyite candidate for Lynn, who would be brought in without trouble or expense, though he has ransacked the Bar and applied to Richmond, Ripon, Graham, and Stanley himself, no such man can be found. There are Whigs and Tories in abundance, but not one man who will come into Parliament as a follower of Stanley and owing his seat to the patronage of the Duke of Richmond.

It is the fashion to consider Peel’s speech at the Mansion House less Liberal in tone and indicative of less confidence than his letter to Tamworth. I don’t perceive much difference. Lord Roden has refused to be Lord Steward, but the invitation has done the mischief. Lord Haddington goes to Ireland, after making many difficulties, but finishing by liking the appointment. Both parties remain equally confident as to the result of the elections; the Whigs, as it appears to me, with greater reason, and as the resolution of the allies (the Whigs and Radicals) is to throw out the Government as speedily as possible, and without caring for consequences, I don’t see how they ever can stand. The other night at Holland House, Mulgrave, who is one of the leading men of the electioneering committee, admitted that he did not see what was to follow the overthrow of the Government, but that the difficulty was one of their own creating; others of them assert that Melbourne or Spencer will return, and another Whig Government be formed, but they leave out of calculation that the Radicals with whom they have joined will not suffer themselves to be brushed off when done with, nor will the Tories come down to assist them if they endeavour again to make head against the Radicals. The Tories have shown themselves a reckless and desperate party, and I see no reason for supposing that their conduct will belie their character; they overthrow their friends from revenge, and will hardly save their enemies from charity; their interest, their real interest, they seem destined ever to be blind to. There may be a hope that, having put themselves under the orders of Peel, they will act in a body as he shall direct them, and if so they may be a powerful and useful Opposition, and I really believe that he will not turn his eyes from the true interests of the country, or cease to regard all those contingencies which may, under dexterous management, be eventually turned to account. It is, however, impossible not to feel greatly disquieted at the aspect of affairs—at the mixture of bad spirit and apathy that prevails, for I consider the apathy an evil and not a good sign. Those who express most loudly their alarm and abhorrence of ultra doctrines make little exertion, personal or pecuniary, to stem their torrent. There have been some great examples of liberality. I heard only the other day that the Duke of Buccleuch subscribed 20,000ℓ. for the election of 1831; Lord Harrowby (a poor man) has given l,000ℓ. for this. The fact is, it is in politics to a certain degree as in religion. Men fear in the one case in the same manner as they believe in the other; they have some doubts in both cases, but no convictions. Their conduct belies their assertions, and when compared with that which they observe on occasions where there is no room for doubt, it will be seen that their want of energy or decision, their various inconsistencies, proceed from self-deceit, which is just strong enough to permit them to try and deceive others with actual falsehood and hypocrisy.

December 28th, 1834

My brother Henry came from Paris a day or two ago to take the place of précis writer in the Foreign Office. Just before he started old Pozzo gave him a whole string of messages to the Duke of Wellington, adding that he would give the world for an hour’s conversation with him. These communications were evidently made upon a supposition that their opinions were generally congenial. He said that the affairs of Belgium required particular attention; that the Belgians were grown insolent, and meant, by deferring a final settlement, to avoid paying their portion of the debt and to keep the disputed Duchies, and that unfortunately STATE OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS. the conduct of the King of Holland had not been such as to entitle him to assistance; that in Germany the spirit was good and tranquillity prevailed; in Spain nothing could be worse, and he told the Duke to be on his guard against what Alava should say to him, ‘qui n’avait pas le sens commun, mais qui était dévoué au Duc,’ and that he might endoctriner him a little. Henry took a memorandum of this and gave it to the Duke; but however disposed he may be to enter into Pozzo’s views, he will probably soon be obliged to take a tone very unpleasant to Russia, for I find that the affairs of Turkey are in such a state that they are to be brought under the immediate consideration of the Cabinet. The great object of the late Government was (and that of this Government must be the same) to get the Porte out of the clutches of Russia. The Sultan is a mere slave of the Emperor, but throughout his dominions, and the Principalities likewise, a bitter feeling of hatred against Russia prevails. Our policy has been to induce the Sultan to throw off the yoke—by promises of assistance on one hand, and menaces on the other of supporting Mehemet Ali against him. Hitherto, however, the Sultan has never been induced to bestir himself. It is evident that if this matter is taken up seriously, and with a resolution to curb the power of Russia in the East, the greatest diplomatic judgment and firmness will be requisite in our Ambassador at St. Petersburg; and how under these circumstances the Duke can send Londonderry, and how Peel can have consented to his nomination, I am at a loss to conceive. It appears just worse than what Palmerston did, which was to send nobody at all. In all this complication of interests in the East, France is ready to act with us if we will let her, and Austria lies like a great log, favouring Russia and opposing her inert mass to anything like mouvement, no matter with what object or in what quarter.

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