CHAPTER XIX.
Death of Earl Spencer—His Character—M. Thiers in England—Fever of Speculation—Cabinets on the Corn Laws—'Every Man in his Humour'—Dickens on the Stage—'Alarm' wins a great Stake—Visit to Worsley—Manchester—Death of Lady Holland—Bretby—Southwell—Sherwood Forest—Announcement of the Repeal of the Corn Laws—A Ministerial Crisis—Sir Robert Peel resigns—Lord John Russell sent for—Lord Wharncliffe's account of the Crisis—Proceedings of the Whigs—The Court—Attempts at an Understanding—Sir Robert Peel's Position—Lord Grey disagrees—Communication to Sir Robert Peel—Lord John undertakes to form a Government—Dénouement of the Crisis—Lord Howick refuses—Lord John Russell gives up the task.
September 7th, 1845.—A complete absence of events, till a few days ago, when after a very short illness Lord Spencer died at his house near Doncaster. My own acquaintance with him was not intimate, but I had a great respect and esteem for him, and no man ever died with a fairer character, or more generally regretted. In his county he was exceedingly beloved and respected, not less by those who differed from him, than those who agreed with him in politics, and his personal friends and former colleagues, who were warmly attached to him, highly valued his opinions upon public matters, and on all important occasions anxiously sought, and placed great reliance on his advice. The career of Lord Spencer presents few materials to the biographer, for he had neither the brilliant nor even plausible exterior which interests and captivates vulgar imaginations, but he had sterling qualities of mind and character which made him one of the most useful and valuable, as he was one of the best and most amiable men of his day. He was the very model and type of an English gentleman, filling with propriety the station in which fortune had placed him, and making the best use of the abilities which Nature had bestowed upon him. Modest without diffidence, confident without vanity, ardently desiring the good of his country, without the slightest personal ambition, he took that part in public affairs which his station and his opinions prompted, and he marched through the mazes of politics with that straightforward bravery, which was the result of sincerity, singleness of purpose, the absence of all selfishness, and a true, genuine, but unpretending patriotism. His tastes, habits, and turn, of mind were peculiarly and essentially English; he was a high-minded, unaffected, sensible, well-educated English gentleman, addicted to all those rural pursuits and amusements which are considered national, a practical farmer and fond of field sports, but enjoying all things in moderation, and making every other occupation subordinate to the discharge of those duties to his country, whether general or local, the paramount obligation of which was ever uppermost in his mind. In his political principles he was consistent, liberal, and enlightened, but he was too much of a philosopher, and had too deeply studied the book of life to entertain any wild notions of human perfectibility, or to countenance those extravagant theories of popular wisdom and virtue which are so dangerous to peace, order, and good government. He observed, therefore, a just proportion, and a perfect moderation in his political views and objects, firmly believing in the capacity of the Constitution to combine the utmost extent of civil and religious liberty with the predominance of law, and a safe and vigorous administration of public affairs. His whole life, therefore, was devoted to the object of widening and strengthening the foundations of the Commonwealth, of abrogating exclusive and oppressive laws, of extending political franchises, of giving freedom to commerce, and by the progress of a policy at once sound and safe, to promote the welfare and happiness of the mass of the people, and the power and prosperity of the country.
LORD SPENCER'S CHARACTER.
Lord Spencer came into office as Chancellor of the Exchequer and leader of the House of Commons with Lord Grey's Government in 1830; on the death of his father in 1834, his elevation to the House of Lords obliged him to relinquish that office, upon which, as is well known, King William dismissed the Whig Government, on the pretext that it was so weakened as to be unworthy of public confidence and incapable of carrying on the business of the State. This was indeed only a pretext for getting rid of an obnoxious Ministry; but the King's venturing upon so bold a step upon such grounds affords a convincing proof of the high consideration which Lord Spencer enjoyed in the House of Commons and in the country. Nor, indeed, was it possible to exaggerate that consideration. The greatest homage that ever was rendered to character and public virtue was exhibited in his popularity and authority during the four eventful years when he led the Whig Government and party in the House of Commons. Without one showy accomplishment, without wit to amuse or eloquence to persuade, with a voice unmelodious and a manner ungraceful, and barely able to speak plain sense in still plainer language, he exercised in the House of Commons an influence and even a dominion greater than any leader either after or before him. Neither Pitt the father, nor Pitt the son, in the plenitude of their magnificent dictatorships, nor Canning in the days of his most brilliant displays of oratory and wit, nor Castlereagh, returning in all the glory of an ovation from the overthrow of Napoleon, could govern with the same sway the most unruly and fastidious assembly which the world ever saw. His friends followed this plain and simple man with enthusiastic devotion, and he possessed the faculty of disarming his political antagonists of all bitterness and animosity towards him; he was regarded in the House of Commons with sentiments akin to those of personal affection, with a boundless confidence and a universal esteem. Such was the irresistible ascendency of truth, sincerity, and honour, of a probity free from every taint of interest, of mere character unaided by the arts which captivate or subjugate mankind. This is the great practical panegyric which will consecrate the memory of Lord Spencer, and transmit it nobly to the latest posterity; but it is a panegyric, not more honourable to the subject of it than to the national character which is susceptible of such impressions, and which acknowledges such influences. We may feel an honest pride and a happy confidence in the reflexion that it is by such sterling qualities, by the simple and unostentatious practice of public and private virtue that men may best recommend themselves to the reverence, the gratitude, and the affection of their countrymen, and be remembered hereafter as the benefactors of mankind.
M. THIERS IN ENGLAND.
London, November 16th.—I have passed the last two months in locomotion and amusement, without anything worth noticing but a visit to the Grange, where I went purposely to meet M. Thiers. He came to England in his way from Spain, and passed about a fortnight here. He was extremely well received, invited to Bowood and to the Grange, dined with Lady Holland in London, and had interviews with Palmerston and Aberdeen. I had met him some years ago at Talleyrand's, in London, but he of course had forgotten me, nor do I know whether he recollected or not my connexion with Guizot during his administration in 1840. Whether he did or not, he was extremely civil and disposed to talk to me, though unfortunately the extraordinary rapidity of his utterance and the thickness of his articulation, added to my deafness, rendered half of what he said unintelligible. He was very agreeable and very loquacious, talking with a great appearance of abandon on every subject, politics general and particular, and his own History, which he was ready to discuss, and to defend against all objections and criticisms with great good humour. On the Sunday morning he took me aside, and talked for a long time about his position and practice, and he then said that it was to be regretted that Lord Aberdeen had evinced such a preference for one political party in France, and it was a mistake; and, for his part, he considered that he had nothing to do with Whigs or Tories here, but that it was his business to be equally well with public men of all parties; that he had called on Palmerston, and he should have called on Peel and Aberdeen, if they had been in town, and he expressed a wish that I would make his sentiments known to them. I said I certainly would, and regretted that they were not in London to receive him. Soon after I learnt that Aberdeen was to be in town the next day on his way to the Grove, where I was to meet him, when I resolved to write to him and tell him what Thiers said, and to suggest that he should see him. We all went to town the next morning by rail, and on arriving at the station a messenger met me with a note from Aberdeen, saying he should be very glad to see Thiers if he would call at the Foreign Office. I told him, and he was extremely pleased. I took him there and introduced him to Aberdeen, who received him very cordially, and their interview lasted an hour and a half. When Lord Aberdeen came to the Grove he told me he was much obliged to me for bringing Thiers to him and very glad to receive him. He thought him very agreeable, but not so fair to Guizot as Guizot was to him, for the latter always spoke handsomely of Thiers, while Thiers spoke very disparagingly of him; in fact, Thiers speaks of Guizot with the greatest contempt. He says he is great in the tribune, but good for nothing elsewhere, neither a statesman nor a man of business, which is certainly doing his great antagonist much less than justice. We had a great battle in the train about many points of his History, and with a self-delusion, which is marvellous if sincere, he said that nobody could accuse him of any want of candour towards our country and of not having rendered us ample justice! I am sorry now that I did not at the time write down some particulars of his conversation and opinions about men and things, which would not be devoid of interest. The only thing of any consequence I recollect now is the fact, which he asserted on the evidence of letters now in existence, of Talleyrand's having advised the Spanish war, whereas it has always been supposed that he opposed it, and that his opposition to it was a principal cause of his disgrace with the Emperor.[104] He spoke of Talleyrand with great bitterness and dislike. Nothing would persuade him that our Government had not been implicated in Georges' conspiracy and his plots of assassination, but he entertains the most vulgar and mistaken notions about us, our affairs, and our national character. I take it, however, that he was not more surprised than pleased at his reception here, so frank, cordial, and dignified, received and entertained at Whig and Tory houses with equal cordiality, with the attention due to his celebrity as a writer and a statesman, and without the slightest appearance of resentment (or anything but the most perfect indifference) at his anti-English prejudices and violence. All this must have struck him with no small respect as well as wonder. I have heard since that the Queen said she should have been glad to receive him if he had expressed any desire to be presented to her; that she was not in the habit of receiving foreigners (passing through) at Windsor, but would have made an exception in his favour.
It has been during the last two months that the rage for railroad speculation reached its height, was checked by a sudden panic in full career, and is now reviving again, though not by any means promising to recover its pristine vigour. I met one day in the middle of it the Governor of the Bank at Robarts', who told me that he never remembered in all his experience anything like the present speculation; that the operations of '25, which led to the great panic, were nothing to it, and that there could not fail to be a fearful reaction. The reaction came sooner than anybody expected, but though it has blown many of the bubbles into the air, it has not been as yet so complete and so ruinous as many of the wise men of the East still expect and predict. It is incredible how people have been tempted to speculate; half the fine ladies have been dabbling in stocks, and men the most unlikely have not been able to refrain, from gambling in shares, even I myself (though in a very small degree), for the warning voice of the Governor of the Bank has never been out of my ears. Simultaneously with all this has grown up to a gigantic height the evil of the potato failure, affecting in its expected consequences the speculations, and filling with fear and doubt every interest.[105] That the mischief in Ireland is great and increasing is beyond a doubt, and the Government are full of alarm, while every man is watching with intense anxiety the progress of events, and enquiring whether the Corn Laws will break down under this pressure or not.
THE POTATO FAILURE.
There have been Cabinets held, with long and anxious consultations, and (as it is believed) debates,[106] but as I do not know what passed with anything approaching to certainty, I shall say but little about them. It has been said that Peel was not indisposed to take this opportunity of doing away with the Corn Laws, and again that he was resolved not to abandon his sliding scale; that Aberdeen was the strongest of any against the Corn Laws; the Duke most determined to support them. I am inclined to believe the two latter suppositions to be true, and I lean to the belief that Peel is waiting for a case sufficiently strong to lay before his agricultural friends, before he tells them that he must throw the ports open. There have not been wanting circumstances significant of Peel's disposition, especially a speech which Dr. Buckland made at Birmingham of a very Free Trade complexion; and he went there from Drayton, and has since been made Dean of Westminster. However it is idle to speculate on intentions, which a short time must develop and explain.
All the world went last night to the St. James's Theatre to see the second representation of 'Every Man in his Humour,' by Dickens and the 'Punch' people. The house was crammed full. I was in a bad place, heard very ill, and was so bored that at the end of the third act I went away. Dickens acted Bobadil very well indeed, and Douglas Jerrold (the author of the Candle Lectures in 'Punch') Master Stephen well also; the rest were very moderate and the play intolerably heavy. A play 200 years old, a comedy of character only, without plot or story, or interest of any sort or kind, can hardly go down. The audience were cold as ice, because, it was said, they were too fine; but I believe because they were not at all amused.[107]
I have said nothing of Newmarket. My horse 'Alarm' proved himself the best going (to all present appearance) and won the great stake of the Houghton Meeting; but I won very little on him, not daring to back him. I had the mortification of seeing it proved that he would, beyond all possibility of doubt, have won the Derby but for his accident. That would have been worth winning; it would have rendered me independent, enabled me to relinquish my office when I pleased and be my own man, and given me the power of doing many an act of kindness, and assisting those I care for. Such a chance will probably never occur again.
THE BRIDGEWATER TRUST.
Worsley, November 22nd.—I came here, for the first time, on Monday last, to see the fine new house Francis Egerton has built. It is a very handsome specimen of Blore's architecture, rather spoilt by alterations made while the building was in progress; comfortable enough, but with many faults. The place is miserable; no place at all; no trees worth looking at, and a wet clay soil; no extent, and everything to make. The house stands on an eminence, and commands a very extensive prospect of a rich flat country, the canal running beneath, not a quarter of a mile off, while a little further off the railroad crosses Chat Moss and all day long the barges are visible on the one, and continual trains snort and smoke along the other, presenting a lively exhibition of activity and progress. But it is a miserable country to live in; so wet and deep that the roads all about are paved, and the air is eternally murky with the fire and smoke vomited forth from hundreds of chimneys and furnaces in every direction; no resources, such as hunting and shooting, and no society but the rare visitants from distant parts. In such a place as this they have expended 100,000l. in a fine house, with all the appendages of gardens, &c., and they have done this and much more from a sense of duty, from fully recognising the authority of the maxim that 'property, has its duties as well as its rights.' The Duke of Bridgewater created this vast property, and his enterprise and perseverance were crowned with a prodigious success. He called into activity and gave employment to an immense population, and he occasionally resided at Worsley, to have the satisfaction of witnessing the astonishing results which he had obtained; but with this he was contented. He bequeathed the canal and the collieries to his agent Bradshaw, with unlimited power of management, in trust for the late Duke of Sutherland, and after him to Francis Egerton. During the long reign of Bradshaw and the Duke the property continued to increase in value. Bradshaw was a profligate old dog, who feathered his own nest, and lived a dissolute life. The Duke touched the proceeds, and never troubled himself about the source from which he derived them. At length he died. The trust remained unaltered, but the new cestui que trust came to the enjoyment of his enormous fortune with other ideas and a more stringent sense of obligation. He and his wife thought it behoved them to enquire into the condition of the population in their employment, and to do their best to improve it. They found that it was very bad; that the mass of the people was in the lowest state of ignorance and degradation, and that there was plenty for their beneficence to do. They soon set about the task, and began by making a bargain with Bradshaw to get him out of the trust. He made it over to a man of the name of Sotherton, who had been for some time employed in the canal office, and who was believed to be a fit and proper person. Sotherton no sooner found himself in power (for the power of the trustee is almost unlimited) than he began to play all sorts of pranks and to quarrel with the Lord. They endeavoured to oust Sotherton, and went to law with him, but found the difficulties so great that they ended by compounding with him, and gave him 45,000l. to relinquish the trust and appoint a nominee of Francis's in his room. He selected Mr. James Loch, who is now trustee. This done, they set to work in earnest. This house was erected, and they have built churches and established schools and reading-rooms in various places; they have done all they could, sparing neither pains nor money to civilise and improve the population, to diffuse education, and encourage habits of sobriety and order, and a taste for intellectual occupations. They have evinced a solicitude for the welfare of the people under their influence that has produced a very beneficial effect, and they are gradually improving their condition and purifying their morals without, however, entertaining any extravagant expectations of superhuman success.
MANCHESTER.
I have passed these few days in seeing this place and some of the manufacturing wonders at Manchester. On Tuesday I went over the house and place; and then to Francis' yard, a sort of small dockyard and manufactory; then on the canal in the Trust boat—a luxurious barge fitted up with every convenience and comfort, with a fireplace, and where one may write, read, and live just as in the house; a kitchen behind. The boat is drawn by two horses with postilions in livery, and they trot along at a merry pace, all the craft (except, by compact, 'the Swift boats,' as they are called) giving way to the Trust boat. On Wednesday I went through the subterraneous canal, about a mile and a half long, into the coalpit, saw the working in the mine, and came up by the shaft; a black and dirty expedition, scarcely worth the trouble, but which I am glad to have made. The colliers seem a very coarse set, but they are not hard worked, and, in fact, do no more than they choose. There are many miles of this underground canal. On Thursday I went to Manchester, and saw one of the great cotton and one of the great silk manufactories; very curious even to me, who am ignorant of mechanics, and could only stare and wonder, without being able to understand the niceties of the beautiful and complicated machinery by which all the operations of these trades are performed. The heat of the rooms in the former of them was intense, but the man who showed them to us told us it was caused by the prodigious friction, and the room might be much cooler, but the people liked the heat. Yesterday I went to the infant school, admirably managed; then to the recreation ground of the colliers and working hands—a recent establishment. It is a large piece of ground, planted and levelled round about what is called the paying-house, where the men are paid their wages once a fortnight. The object is to encourage sports and occupations in the open air, and induce them not to go to the alehouse. There are cricket, quoits, and football, and ginger-beer and coffee are sold to the people, but no beer or spirits. This has only a partial success. Afterwards to Patricroft, to see Messrs. Nasmyth's great establishment for making locomotive engines, every part of which I went over. I asked at all the places about the wages and habits of the workpeople. In Birley's cotton factory 1,200 are employed, the majority girls, who earn from ten to fourteen shillings a week. At Nasmyth's the men make from twenty to thirty-two shillings a week. They love to change about, and seldom stay very long at one place; some will go away in a week, and some after a day. In the hot factory rooms the women look very wan, very dirty, and one should guess very miserable. They work eleven hours generally, but though it might be thought that domestic service must be preferable, there is the greatest difficulty in procuring women-servants here. All the girls go to the factory in spite of the confinement, labour, close atmosphere, dirt, and moral danger which await them. The parents make them go, because they earn money which they bring home, and they like the independence and the hours every evening, and the days from Saturday to Monday, of which they can dispose.
Worsley, November 24th.—To Manchester this morning; to the Collegiate Church; good chanting and an excellent reader; to the Athenæum (or the Institute), and saw Dr. Dalton's statue, a good work of Chantrey's; then to Messrs. Hoyle's calico-printing establishment; extremely well worth seeing, interesting, and the more so because intelligible. People know very little how many processes the calico they wear so cheaply goes through, and what a mighty business its preparation is. They told us 800 men were employed here, the highest wages two guineas a week. The room containing the copper cylinders has in it a capital of 100,000l., the cost of these cylinders. I was surprised to hear that the price of labour (the wages) is not affected by the more or less irksome nature of the employment. The workman at the calico printing, which is much more agreeable than the cotton-weaving business, is as highly paid as the latter, perhaps more highly; indeed the lowest rate of wages seems to be at the mill.
DEATH OF LADY HOLLAND.
The day I came here Lady Holland died, that is, she died at two o'clock in the preceding night. She evinced during her illness a very philosophical calmness and resolution, and perfect good humour, aware that she was dying, and not afraid of death. The religious people don't know what to make of it. She never seems to have given the least sign of any religious feeling or belief. She has made a curious will, leaving the greater part of the landed property at her disposal to John Russell for his life, and her jewels to Lady Elizabeth Grey, a poor parson's wife—bequests severely blamed and justly. The legatees ought not to accept what she has bequeathed to them, but give all up to her daughter who wants it. Though she was a woman for whom nobody felt any affection, and whose death therefore will have excited no grief, she will be regretted by a great many people, some from kindly, more from selfish motives, and all who had been accustomed to live at Holland House and continued to be her habitués will lament over the fall of the curtain on that long drama, and the final extinction of the flickering remnant of a social light which illuminated and adorned England and even Europe for half a century. The world never has seen and never will again see anything like Holland House, and though it was by no means the same thing as it was during Lord Holland's life, Lady Holland contrived to assemble round her to the last a great society, comprising almost everybody that was conspicuous, remarkable, and agreeable. The closing of her house, therefore, will be a serious and an irreparable loss, especially to those old friends who are too old to look out for new places of resort and to form new social habits. She was a very strange woman, whose character it would not be easy to describe, and who can only be perfectly understood from a knowledge and consideration of her habits and peculiarities. She was certainly clever, and she had acquired a great deal of information both from books and men, having passed her whole life amidst people remarkable for their abilities and knowledge. She cared very little for her children, but she sometimes pretended to care for them, and she also pretended to entertain strong feelings of friendship for many individuals; and this was not all insincerity, for, in fact, she did entertain them as strongly as her nature permitted. She was often capricious, tyrannical, and troublesome, liking to provoke, and disappoint, and thwart her acquaintances, and she was often obliging, good-natured, and considerate to the same people. To those who were ill and suffering, to whom she could show any personal kindness and attention, among her intimate friends, she never failed to do so. She was always intensely selfish, dreading solitude above everything, and eternally working to enlarge the circle of her society, and to retain all who ever came within it. She could not live alone for a single minute; she never was alone, and even in her moments of greatest grief it was not in solitude but in society that she sought her consolation. Her love and habit of domination were both unbounded, and they made her do strange and often unwarrantable things. None ever lived who assumed such privileges as Lady Holland, and the docility with which the world submitted to her vagaries was wonderful. Though she was eternally surrounded with clever people, there was no person of any position in the world, no matter how frivolous and foolish, whose acquaintance she was not eager to cultivate, and especially latterly she had a rage for knowing new people and going to fresh houses. Though often capricious and impertinent she was never out of temper, and she bore with good humour and calmness the indignant and resentful outbreaks which she sometimes provoked in others, and though she liked to have people at her orders and who would defer to her and obey her, she both liked and respected those who were not afraid of her and who treated her with spirit and freedom. Although she was known to be wholly destitute of religious opinions she never encouraged any irreligious talk in her house. She never herself spoke disrespectfully or with levity of any of the institutions or opinions which other people were accustomed to reverence, nor did she at any time, even during periods of the greatest political violence, suffer any disloyal language towards the sovereign, nor encourage any fierce philippics, still less any ribaldry against political opponents. It was her great object, while her society was naturally and inevitably of a particular political colour, to establish in it such a tone of moderation and general toleration that no person of any party, opinion, profession, or persuasion might feel any difficulty in coming to her house, and she took care that no one who did should ever have reason to complain of being offended or annoyed, still less shocked or insulted under her roof. Never was anybody more invariably kind to her servants or more solicitous for their comfort. In this probably selfish considerations principally moved her; it was essential to her comfort to be diligently and zealously served, and she secured by her conduct to them their devoted attachment. It used often to be said in joke that they were very much better off than her guests.
BRETBY AND OSSINGTON.
Ossington, December 3rd.—Left Worsley on Wednesday last; went to Bretby, stayed there till Saturday, not a creature there, nothing to do but look at horses in the morning and go to sleep in the evening. What would the last Lord Chesterfield but one, the celebrated peer, say, if he could see into what hands his title has fallen, and the half of his estate which has not been squandered away? Came here on Saturday, stopped at Southwell to see the church, a beautiful specimen of Norman architecture. It is quite a cathedral, though only a collegiate church, and with no higher dignitaries than prebends. It has been shorn of its splendour by the Ecclesiastical Commission, and with some difficulty enough of its revenues was saved for its handsome maintenance. The Chapter-house is exceedingly beautiful, especially a gateway erected or adorned by Wolsey, who sometimes resided here, as it was formerly a church in the diocese of York, though now removed to that of Lincoln. On Monday we rode all over the Forest, through Thoresby, Clumber, and Clipston, and by the Duke of Portland's water-meadows. Twenty years have elapsed since I saw this country in which so much of my youth was passed, and I had forgotten, or never sufficiently remembered, how grand it is.
London, December 5th.—I came to town yesterday, and find political affairs in a state of the greatest interest and excitement. The whole town had been electrified in the morning by an article in the 'Times,' announcing, with an air of certainty and authority, that the discussions and disputes in the Cabinet had terminated by a resolution to call Parliament together early in January, and propose a total repeal of the Corn Laws, and that the Duke had not only consented, but was to bring forward the measure in the House of Lords. Nobody knew whether to believe this or not, though all seemed staggered, and the more so because the 'Standard,' though affecting to disbelieve the 'Times,' and treating it as a probable fiction, did not contradict it from authority, as might naturally have been expected if it had been untrue. This morning I heard the whole matter precisely as it stands, and the affair, including the way it comes to my knowledge, presents a curious under-current in politics. On this question of the Corn Laws Aberdeen has taken a very strong and decided part, and he has been Peel's most strenuous supporter in the contest he has had to maintain in his Cabinet, for it now appears that Peel has all along been for repealing the Corn Laws, and has not, as I was once led to believe, been disposed to stand by his own sliding scale. It appears that before the appearance of John Russell's letter, the free-trading Ministers were disposed to take the course now determined on, and Aberdeen thinks it was a great error and misfortune that they did not do so in November, and so appear to have taken the initiative, rather than to be goaded to it. Lord John's letter, however (which was written without concert with, or the knowledge of, anybody), fell like a spark on a barrel of gunpowder. The effect it produced was far greater than he even could have expected, greater probably than he is yet aware of. It struck despair into the hearts of the Protectionists, but it really was of service to Peel, though it appeared to put him in fresh difficulty. The publication of the letter was followed by an article in the 'Times,' alluding to this difficulty, and the day this article appeared Aberdeen sent for Delane, and told him that Peel considered the letter mischievous, but the article far more mischievous than the letter. In the course of this and other conversations he gave Delane to understand what his own opinions were, and told him pretty clearly what sort of a contest was going on in the Cabinet. The Duke was at first decidedly against repeal;[108] and Ripon and Wharncliffe were, as far as I can make out, the most strenuous opponents besides. On Tuesday last the decisive Cabinet was held, at which it was finally to be determined which party should prevail, and if Peel could not carry his views, it was his intention to resign, and Aberdeen with him. On Wednesday, Aberdeen sent again for Delane, and after talking to him about all sorts of matters connected with foreign policy, and many other things, and when Delane was preparing to leave him, he began upon the Corn Laws, and told him, in fact, the substance of what appeared in the article yesterday, together with many details which did not appear. He told him that the Duke of Wellington had offered to resign, but that Peel said, if he resigned, he himself would also, for he could not undertake to carry the measure without the Duke's concurrence and support, and at last the Duke gave way, and agreed to stay in, and use his influence to carry it through the House of Lords. Peel was aware that without this it would have been impossible, and as it is, he expects great opposition, and several resignations in the Cabinet.[109] These resignations will, however, materially strengthen the Government, as the men who go out will probably be replaced by Ellenborough, Dalhousie, and Gladstone, a great improvement in point of capacity.
REPEAL OF THE CORN LAWS.
When the article appeared yesterday morning, Lord Wharncliffe was in a great state of agitation, and told Reeve (as he had done before) that it was not true, that the 'Times' was mystified, and had been all along. Reeve said that certainly the editor of the 'Times' thought he had good authority for what he had put forth, and would not have risked his credit so far without strong grounds, but that if Lord Wharncliffe really meant to declare that to his knowledge the statement was false, he would, if he pleased, send for Delane and tell him so. He hung back on this, and said he did not wish to appear. Reeve said he need not appear, but if he would authorise the contradiction, it should be contradicted. He would not, however, but said that 'nothing was settled.' I have no doubt that though everything is virtually settled, the matter remains to be formally arranged. The Chiefs are agreed, but the whole Cabinet is not yet agreed, and this is what he means, while any hopes he may have entertained of staving off the blow are defeated by this rapid publication. There can be very little doubt that it was Aberdeen's object that Delane should publish what he did, though he did not tell him to do so, and the reason is very obvious. Yesterday the American Mail went off, and it took with it the morning papers, and consequently this article in the 'Times.' It was exactly what Aberdeen wanted. As Foreign Secretary his most earnest desire is to get over the Oregon affair as well as he can, and he knows that nothing will have so great an effect in America, nothing tend so materially to the prevalence of pacific counsels, as an announcement that our Corn Laws are going to be repealed.
THE 'TIMES' CONTRADICTED.
December 6th.—It is impossible to describe the agitation into which all classes of persons have been thrown by the announcement about the Corn Laws—the doubts, hopes, and fears it has excited, and the burning curiosity to know the truth of it. Some deride and scout it; others believe it, partly or entirely. Yesterday morning I went to the office and saw Wharncliffe. 'His face was as a glass, where men might read strange matters;' it was easy to see his state of agitation. Assuming it was all true, I said I hoped he did not mean to resign, and that whatever his opinions might be, if the Duke did not, he surely need not either, and any break-up of the party would be an evil. He acknowledged nothing, but replied, very lugubriously, that he was seventy years old! I did my best to encourage him, and he did his best to make me doubt the accuracy of the 'Times' statement, telling me nothing, but mysteriously saying a very short time would reveal the truth. In the afternoon he went to a Cabinet. Meanwhile the 'Standard' appeared with a contradiction of the 'Times' in large letters. Wharncliffe came into my room from the Cabinet much excited, but apparently rather hilarious. I asked him if he had seen the 'Standard.' He said no, he wanted to see it. He read it, and then said, 'What do you say to that?' I said, I laughed at it, and had not a doubt that the 'Times' was right. 'Very well,' he replied, 'it will soon be seen who is right; but I tell you the "Times" has been mystified, and neither you nor Reeve know anything of what is going on.'[110] I was enough staggered by his manner to write to Reeve and tell him this, and he went to Delane. They went over all that had passed with Aberdeen, which was too clear, too precise, and too decisive to admit of any mistake. After his communication to Delane, Aberdeen asked him what he meant to do with what he had told him. 'Publish it,' he answered, 'to be sure!' A pretty strong proof that he told it him for no other purpose. Palmerston hit the right nail on the head, for William Cowper told me last night he had guessed that Aberdeen had got this information put into the 'Times,' that it might go over to America and influence the Oregon question; only he did not seem certain it was true, and was not without a suspicion that it was done with an intention to deceive, and not to enlighten the American public.
December 9th, Tuesday.—On Saturday afternoon Wharncliffe came to the office and sent for me. I found him walking about the room, when he immediately broke out, 'Well, I must say the impudence of the "Times" exceeds all I ever knew.' 'What's the matter?' I asked, 'what have they done?' 'Why, notwithstanding the contradiction in the "Standard" last night, they have not only neither qualified nor withdrawn their assertion, but have repeated the statement more positively than before. I must say this beats every other impudence.' 'Well,' I said, 'don't you see the reason, namely, that the "Times" does not care for the denial of the "Standard," and thinks its own authority for the statement better than any the "Standard" can have for denying it.' I then told him that everybody believed the 'Times,' go where you would people canvassed which was the most credible, and all believed the 'Times,' Lord Carnarvon, whom I met in the morning, for instance; and I myself believed it, that is, I believed it to be substantially correct, though perhaps not so in all its details. 'Very well,' he said, 'a short time will show the truth; but I tell you again that the "Times" knows nothing about it, has been mystified, and you will soon see that you are all wrong.' On this I said, 'Am I then to understand you that the facts put forth by the "Times" are really untrue, that no resolution has been come to by the Cabinet, and that the Duke of Wellington in one House and Peel in the other are not going to bring forward a measure which, without quibbling or splitting of hairs, is a virtual abandonment of the principle of protection?' He said, 'Well, I do mean to say that all this is untrue, it is not the fact; I positively tell you so, and I mean it without any quibbling whatever.' 'Very well, of course you know and I cannot, and I am bound to believe you. May I then contradict it on your authority?' 'No, I will not have my name used. I tell you not to believe it, and you may say what you please as from yourself, but I will not have my authority mentioned, and events will contradict it soon enough.' We had a great deal more talk. He complained of the mischief that the report had done, and the speculation it had set afloat. After this contradiction so positive, specific, and peremptory, I knew not what to believe. On Monday I looked with anxiety for the article in the 'Times,' and found only a calm adhesion to its story. Delane had seen Aberdeen the evening before, who said to him that he had not said a bit too much, except that his statement the second day, that 'the heads of the Government had agreed,' was more correct than that of the first, which said that 'the Cabinet' had. He desired him to go on in the same strain, reasoning on it as a fact. He gave him, however, to understand that the publication had created considerable agitation. Delane in the course of conversation said that the whole thing turned on the Duke of Wellington, whether he was consenting or not, but Aberdeen would not tell him which way the Duke was.
THE 'TIMES' MAINTAINS ITS GROUND.
In the afternoon I saw Delane himself. Peel went down to the Queen on Saturday, came up yesterday afternoon, and there was a Cabinet at five o'clock. Wharncliffe told me that Peel was very angry at the article in the 'Times,' and sent a messenger to the Queen thereupon. There is no doubt that Delane, in the excitement of the moment, said more, much more than he ought to have said, and that Wharncliffe's statement to me was really true, for the Cabinet, so far from being agreed on a measure, was in a state of disagreement, amounting almost to dissolution.[111] Delane was very imprudent, for he might have guarded his statement and yet produced precisely the same effect. My own belief is that yesterday evening decided the fate of the Government, and that all turned on the Duke. However, a very short time will clear up everything. Meanwhile the agitation, excitement, and curiosity are universal and intense. The rising wrath of the Tories and landlords is already muttering at the bare suspicion of the intended act, and it will be awful when all the truth breaks upon them. Peel's situation is very curious, and though many will think he has done a great service, he has so played his cards from first to last that his reputation will be irretrievably damaged by it, for men of both, or indeed of all, parties will unite in condemning him. He is now going to reap the fruits of the enormous error he committed in coming into office on the principle of Corn Law protection and the sliding scale, an error the more unpardonable because it was quite unnecessary.
Thursday, 11th.—On Tuesday afternoon Lord Wharncliffe sent for me, and told me Parliament was to be prorogued, but not called for despatch of business. This was enough: it satisfied me that the Ministers were out; there was no other solution of so strange a fact. Yesterday morning we went down to the Council at Osborne; the Duke joined us at Basingstoke. Nothing was said. I never saw the Cabinet in such a state of hilarity. Peel was full of jokes and stories, and they all were as merry (apparently and probably really) as men could be. Peel and Aberdeen alone had long audiences of the Queen; nothing transpired there. When I got back to town I found the reports of resignation current, and at dinner at George Harcourt's it was treated as a thing certain, and my conversation with James Wortley and then with Sir R. Gordon and Canning quite satisfied me that my conjectures the day before had been fully realised. When we returned from Osborne I had no idea the Ministers had already resigned some days before, for they none of them took leave, and Peel and Aberdeen only had audiences. Not one of them hinted to me what was going on, and the only thing said about it was a joke of Stanley's, who said to a Bishop, who was of the party, that the right reverend prelate had probably often seen as much patience, but never could have seen so much resignation.
RESIGNATION OF SIR ROBERT PEEL.
Friday, 12th.—Yesterday all was known. Peel had resigned on Saturday, and Lord John was sent for the same day, but the Ministers kept that secret, nor did Aberdeen tell Delane the state of the case; I suppose he was afraid to tell him any more. Lord John was at Osborne yesterday, and has called his friends together to-day. The Whig talk at Brooks's is that the Government about to be formed can not stand, that they will be able to do nothing with the House of Lords, and assuming that the Duke of Wellington's opposition has broken up the Government, which was totally untrue, they conclude that he will head the Tories in support of the Corn Laws in the Upper House. I met Macaulay at dinner at Milman's yesterday (for the Westminster Play), and he told me this was the tone at Brooks's. I said I did not think they would have so much difficulty as they imagine, that Peel would support them, and the Duke, so far from leading on the landed interest, would keep them quiet if he could and help the Government.
It is now more than ever to be regretted that Lord John is not on better terms with Peel, and that he should have allowed himself to twit him so offensively as he did in his letter the other day, for it is essential that there should be some concert between them; and as Lord John's Government must in fact depend for its existence on Peel's support, it would have been far more becoming and more convenient that their personal relations should be amicable, and that they should not be separated from each other by a barrier of mutual antipathy. I believe, however, that Lord John's feelings towards Peel are not at all reciprocated by the latter. The Tories will now bitterly regret that they rejected the eight-shilling duty, and how true have been the prognostics that they never would have again so good an opportunity of making a compromise. I doubt whether their rage and fury against Peel will be the least diminished by his resignation; on the contrary, they will think he has cast them into the lion's mouth. Everybody asks first of all what is the crisis, what the necessity which compelled him to insist on throwing over the Corn Laws, and making it the condition of his remaining in office; and next, when the majority of the Cabinet would have supported him, why he did not let the dissentients go and fight his battle out. These questions will be answered in time.
Lord John gave considerable offence to some of his colleagues by his letter; two only, however, objected (in letters to him) to what he said—Lansdowne and Palmerston. Clarendon objected to his firing off such a letter without consulting anybody, but did not write to him at all; he wrote to the Duke of Bedford. However, as Palmerston's objection was grounded on an assumption that it would strengthen Peel, now that Peel is out, and the doors of the Foreign Office are thrown open to him, he will be no doubt reconciled to it; for I don't imagine he cares about corn, fixed duty, sliding scales, or anything else, except so far as they may bear upon his return to that abode of bliss.
Saturday, 13th.—Yesterday morning I called on Wharncliffe, who was still ill in bed, and very low. He complained of the 'Times' for saying that the Duke of Wellington had broken up the Government by changing his mind, first consenting and then withdrawing his consent; that 'it was hard upon the old man,' who had behaved admirably throughout, never having flinched or changed, but he had said to Peel that he (Peel) was a better judge of this question than himself, and he would support him in whatever course he might take. I said 'the old man' would probably not see the paper, and certainly not care a straw if he did. I told him everybody asked why they had resigned, and when the day of explanation came, that it would be difficult to give a satisfactory answer to the question. He said he thought so too; that he never could see any sufficient reason (it being now clear that the supposed deficiency of food would furnish none); but that from the beginning Peel and Graham, especially Graham, had appeared panic-struck, and would hear no reasons against the course they had resolved upon; that Lord Heytesbury had contributed to this panic by his representations; that the original statement in the 'Times' was the most extraordinary, because on the very day when it appeared, Thursday, the Government was virtually broken up. Peel resolved to repeal the Corn Laws, but only to attempt it provided he could do so with a unanimous Cabinet. This he found was impossible, and that very Thursday he determined to resign. They begged him not to be in a hurry. He said he would not, and would take twenty-four hours to consider it. He did so, and on Friday he announced to his colleagues that he persisted in his resolution, and should go down the next day to Osborne to resign. All this, which I had from Wharncliffe's lips, is unquestionably true.
LORD JOHN RUSSELL'S AUDIENCE.
There was a meeting at John Russell's in the morning; no one was present but Palmerston, Cottenham, Clarendon, and Macaulay, who came in at the end. The letters convening his other friends had not reached them in time. X—— came to me afterwards and told me what had passed. The Queen wrote to Lord John, and summoned him to her presence. Sir Robert Peel had resigned, and she had thought it expedient to send for him to assist her. He asked her why Peel had resigned? She said that since November last he had been satisfied that the time was arrived when the Corn Laws must be repealed, but that the difficulty he had found with his Cabinet had at length induced him to resign. Lord John then said that, before he could undertake anything, he must know what would be Peel's course in respect to the measures he should propose, and what chance he should have of being able to carry them. The Queen told him that Peel had given her every assurance of his support. He left her without anything being settled, and he is in fact not yet Minister. At the meeting yesterday, Cottenham alone was against undertaking it; but Lord John was pretty well determined, only they all agreed that he must feel his way and obtain some positive information as to the sort and amount of support which Peel would and could give him. Clarendon urged this very strongly, and Lord John quite agreed. This morning, at eleven o'clock, they are all to assemble at his house, and in the afternoon Lord John and Lord Lansdowne are to go down to Windsor together. Nothing will, I apprehend, be definitively settled till some communication, direct or indirect, has taken place between Peel and John Russell, so that the latter may have some certain knowledge of the intentions of the former. Lord John has, however, already had some communication with Graham, but I do not know what.[112] The language at Brooks's is generally that of extreme despondency; but I have done my best to encourage them, and have told all those I have communicated with (and most of them come to me for information or an opinion) that the new Government will not fail. I met Lord Lansdowne last night, and I found that he meant to come back to his old office. However, the distribution of places will be a very difficult matter, the adjustment of claims and expectations, and making these square with the exigencies of the crisis.
Yesterday afternoon Graham met Lord Lansdowne and John Russell; the conversation was frank and amicable. Lord John said he must ask 'what was the measure which Peel had intended to propose.' Graham said he could not tell him without Peel's consent. This morning he received a letter from Graham recapitulating what had passed, but informing him Peel declined to tell him what his intended measure was. It seems, however, that it was a measure of Repeal, or leading to ultimate Repeal, accompanied with certain other measures of relief; that in November he announced to his Cabinet that he thought this necessary; but that it was received with such opposition that he never laid before them his measures, and the Cabinet has actually broken up without knowing what they were. Strange and incredible as this appears, it must be true, for Graham told Lord John so.[113] His and Peel's motives were, that the state of Ireland is so awful, with famine and complete disorganisation, and a social war probable, that money and coercive laws must have been called for; and these they could not demand of Parliament, and leave the Corn Laws as they are.
DELIBERATIONS OF THE WHIGS.
There was another meeting at Lord John's house at eleven to-day; present, the same as before, and the Duke of Bedford and Francis Baring. Lord John produced Graham's letter. Lord Lansdowne said that certainly he could not say there was anything in it at variance with what he had said at their interview, but that there was an appearance of drawing back in it, and something in the tone that he did not like. The feeling of this meeting was, that Peel and Graham were not going to deal fairly and frankly with them, and they would not hear of Peel's excusing himself from divulging his intentions, and giving as the excuse for his refusal that he could not tell them a plan which he had not told his colleagues. They unanimously agreed that great caution and determination were necessary, and that they must see their way more clearly before they committed themselves to taking office. It was settled that Lord Lansdowne and Lord John should go together to Windsor and tell Her Majesty what they proposed. This was, that Peel should again be invited to state frankly what sort of measure he contemplated and would be prepared to support; and if he refused to do this, Lord John was to commit to paper a project, which was to be sent to Peel, desiring at the same time that he would say whether he would support it, and what amount of support he calculated on being able to bring with him. They will have no appearance of intrigue or underhand dealing, but an open, frank proceeding which may enable them to see the exact condition in which they stand. I saw the Duke of Bedford soon after the meeting, who gave me precisely the same account that Clarendon had done; he said that Lord John had acted with great judgement in his communication with the Queen, not pressing her or asking for details about the differences in the late Cabinet, taking what she chose to tell. She wrote to Melbourne, and told him she had sent for Lord John, knowing that the state of his health would not admit of his assisting her. He wrote back word that a voyage from Southampton to Cowes would be as bad for him as to cross the Atlantic.
The Queen spoke to Lord John immediately about Lord Palmerston, and expressed great alarm at the idea of his returning to the Foreign Office, and her earnest desire that he would take the Colonial Office instead, and that Lord John would propose it to him. She had already talked to Aberdeen about it, who told her she must make up her mind to Palmerston's returning to the Foreign Office, as he would certainly take nothing else. They agreed (Lord John and those whom he consulted) that it would never do to propose any other office to him, and it was much better to avoid any appearance of reluctance or distrust, and to give it him at once. But they mean that the Queen should herself express to Palmerston her earnest desire that nothing may be said or done to interrupt the amicable relations which subsist between her and the King of the French, and that Palmerston should be at once made to understand that the Foreign Office is to be a department of the Government, the affairs of which are to be considered in common, and not dealt with according to his good will and pleasure. He will not like this, but with or without a struggle he will no doubt conform to it; and John Russell is not a man to surrender the proper functions of a head of the Government, or to be either tricked or bullied into letting Palmerston be independent and arbitrary. Clarendon told Lord John not to think about him in making his arrangements. Lord John threw out a hint about Ireland; but he at once said he could not go there at the expense of the certain ruin of his health. He asked his brother, the Duke of Bedford, if he would take office, but he said it was out of the question. I try to persuade him to be in the Cabinet without an office, and to this he seems rather inclined. There will be great difficulties about the offices, between the necessity of inviting new men, such as Cobden and Charles Villiers; the claims of men once but not last in office, such as Grey, Auckland, Charles Wood, George Grey, Clanricarde, &c.; and adjusting the pretensions of the men turned out by Peel. There was an admirable article in the 'Times,' giving the whole rationale of Peel's four years of office, of his conduct, motives, and the feelings and sentiments which he engendered, excellently done and perfectly true.
LORD JOHN RUSSELL'S SECOND AUDIENCE.
Tuesday, December 16th.—Nothing is settled; Lord Lansdowne and Lord John Russell went to Windsor on Saturday. The first novelty that struck them was the manner of their reception; all is changed since they went out of office. Formerly the Queen received her Ministers alone; with her alone they communicated, though of course Prince Albert knew everything; but now the Queen and Prince were together, received Lord Lansdowne and John Russell together, and both of them always said We—'We think, or wish, to do so and so; what had we better do, &c.' The Prince is become so identified with the Queen that they are one person, and as he likes business, it is obvious that while she has the title he is really discharging the functions of the Sovereign. He is King to all intents and purposes. I am not surprised at this, but certainly was not aware that it had taken such a definite shape. However, they told the Sovereigns that they thought it necessary to obtain a positive assurance that the dissentient section of the Cabinet was unable, and would in no case undertake, to form a Government, and suggested that they should either send for or write to Peel, and ask him the question. The Prince wrote, and last night John Russell got from him Peel's answer, which was a distinct declaration that those persons could not and would not attempt to form a Government. This morning there is another and more numerous meeting, for now the scattered Whigs have had time to arrive. Peel having refused to disclose his intentions in his Cabinet, it now remains for Lord John to tell him what he is inclined to propose, and to ask him if he will support it. What this shall be will be discussed this morning. The greatest doubt prevails in the town about the formation of the Government. If Peel and Graham would communicate frankly with John Russell, and really try to come to some understanding or fair compromise; if they would consider the difficulties together and make a joint attempt to remove them, the work would not be difficult; but there is always a great difficulty when it is necessary to deal with such men as Peel and Graham—the one cold, reserved, suspicious, and insincere, the other slippery.
Certainly the contrast between Peel's position and his reputation on his coming into office four years ago, and at this moment of his quitting it, is most remarkable and curious. Never was any Minister so triumphant as he was then. He had routed his opponents, reduced them to a miserable state of weakness, and heaped unpopularity and discredit upon them. With his own party he was like a general who had just led his troops on to victory; they looked up to him with admiration, and obeyed him implicitly; all the world was admiring and applauding him, abroad and at home. And what has been his career before the world? Successful to the uttermost of general expectation; personally he vanquished the dislike of the Queen and ingratiated himself entirely with her. He terminated dangerous contests and embarrassing disputes, he restored peace, he put the finances in good order. It would be difficult to point out any failure he suffered, and easy to show that no Minister ever had to boast of four more prosperous years, or more replete with public advantage and improvement. His majority in both Houses of Parliament has certainly not been diminished; and if he had met Parliament as Minister next session, he would in all probability have found himself supported by majorities quite as large as when he took possession of the Government. And the end of all this triumph, popularity, prosperity, and power is a voluntary fall, a resignation of office in the midst of such a storm of rage, abuse, and hatred as no other Minister was ever exposed to. His political opponents are not disposed to give him credit for either wisdom or patriotism, while his followers (friends he has none) heap reproaches upon him, in which they exhaust the whole vocabulary of abuse, and accuse him of every sort of baseness, falsehood, and treachery. And what is the cause of this mighty change? It is because he is wiser than his people, that he knows better than they do what are the true principles of national policy and national economy; because, amidst a chaos of conflicting prejudices and interests, amidst the clashing of mighty powers, he entertains sound views and wants to give effect to them. It was well said that it was his purpose 'to betray the country into good measures.' The tendency of his measures has been good. If he had had time, he would have accomplished much good; but he was unfortunately 'cribbed, cabined, and confined' by his antecedent conduct, and he has been obliged to work his way by the employment of means destructive of his character, subversive of his influence, and, in the end, fatal to the objects which he had in view. The history of Peel's four years is well worth a close study. There is so much in it in connexion with the past to blame, so much in connexion with the future to praise, and all well worth pondering upon and fit to point a moral.
SIR ROBERT PEEL'S POSITION.
Afternoon.—The meeting of the Whigs took place this morning, fourteen or fifteen present. The day before Howick[114] had arrived, and immediately began squabbling with and dissenting from everybody. He and Ellice were with Lord John together, and Lord John so much disagreed with Howick's violent views (for he was all for extreme measures, immediate repeal, no compensation, trampling on adversaries), that Howick said pettishly, 'I see it would be useless for me to attend your meeting to-morrow.' Ellice interfered and said, 'Oh, nonsense, you had better come,' and he did. Lord John said he was very sorry Ellice had prevailed on him to come, as he should much have preferred taking him at his word.
Lord John had written to the Queen, and begged her to obtain a more positive answer whether the Protectionist part of the Cabinet would or could form a Government; and the Queen wrote to Peel accordingly. Peel's answer Lord John received this morning; it was a long letter, four sides of paper. After stating positively that the dissentients would not make the attempt, he went on to say that he was disposed to support the measures of the new Government, but that he thought it better there should be no direct communication between them; that it would give offence to many people, and not be relished by Parliament; that he could say that there were many Peers who, whatever their opinions might be about the Corn Laws, would be anxious that any measure which passed the House of Commons should pass the House of Lords, and would do all they could to assist it. This letter was first read separately, and then when Lord Lansdowne arrived late (from Bowood), and they all took their places, it was read aloud. After considerable discussion upon it, some thinking it was not enough, Clarendon proposed that another letter should be written to the Queen, requesting that she would ask Peel whether he would be opposed to a measure of immediate and total repeal, accompanied by other measures of compensation, but entering into no details, and not saying what measures of compensation they meant. This was supported by Howick, and finally agreed to. They now know that Peel intended to propose immediate suspension and final abolition, but with a short period of revival. The Whigs think this will never do; they do not indeed see any great cause for the immediate suspension; but to say so would be inconsistent with all they have been lately urging, and would make them appear less liberal than Peel. Then they do not think the Corn Laws, once suspended, can ever be allowed to revive; so on the whole they prefer immediate and total repeal, with other measures of a compensatory character. His letter was to be despatched to the Queen to-night, who would, of course, send it to Peel directly, and on his answer the formation of the Government depends. The Queen in sending Peel's letter expressed her concurrence with his reasoning, and her hope that it would be found satisfactory, and begged to have the letter back again directly. X—, from whom I heard all this, told me the meeting went off very well, and on the whole harmoniously. I wanted Clarendon to contrive that there should be some communication made through Graham to Peel, that he may understand how much depends on the answer he may think fit to send. He ought to be frank and candid, but it is not in his nature, and there are many people who fancy he wants to have the Government thrown back upon him, and to go on. I do not believe this.
LORD JOHN ACCEPTS THE GOVERNMENT.
Friday, December 19th.—Yesterday morning the die was cast. John Russell accepted the Government. As I have already said, he wrote a letter to the Queen, and a remarkably good one, setting forth that he did not think Sir Robert Peel's plan would be sufficient, and his reasons why, and begging to know whether he would have insuperable objections to total and immediate repeal. It was certainly understood by his whole conclave that on Peel's reply to this appeal to him was to depend the question of taking or refusing the Government. The Queen sent it to Peel, and all day on Wednesday he and Graham sat in consultation upon it. On Wednesday evening he sent his reply, and yesterday morning there was another meeting at Lord John's, where the reply was read. It was very cold, declined to enter into any discussion or give any pledges, and expressed a hope that Her Majesty would not consider him wanting in respect if he referred her to his former letter. On this being read there was a silence, when Clarendon first said, 'There, you now see the wisdom of having required a positive assurance from Peel. It is evident that he will not support us, and there can be no question that it will not do for us to take the Government upon it.' Howick instantly interposed that he did not see that at all, quite disagreed with him, thought Peel could not say more, and that it was quite as much as they could expect. Then ensued a quantity of conversation and discussion, all the pros and the cons, Peel's peculiar character and position, and, in short, whether they should go on or give it up. At length Lord John, who had stood with folded arms and let this go on for some time in silence, said, 'If you wish to know my opinion, I think we ought to take the Government.' He did not enter into any argument, but thus pronounced his opinion, and at last it was put to the vote. Ten were for taking, five were for declining: Lord Lansdowne, the Duke of Bedford, Clarendon, and two others whom I do not yet know, were against; all the others for. On the whole I think they did right. The only awkward part of it is that they seemed at first to announce a determination only to accept it provided they could get a certain assurance from Peel. To ask for that assurance—to be refused by him—and then to draw back from their announced resolution—to submit to his refusal—and take the Government without it as they could not have it with it—there is something in this rather mortifying and a little undignified. But though Peel would not pledge himself to any particular course, there is one very important feature in his conduct. If he has not said that he had no insuperable objection to the measure they contemplate, neither has he said that he has; and he has, after learning the extent to which they mean to go, given the same assurance of a disposition to support them which he gave before he knew it. I think, therefore, that he means to act fairly by them, to give them his support, and that he really does think that it is better for them as well as for himself that he should not say more or pledge himself more, and that he should be able to tell the House of Commons and his friends that he is unfettered, and that there is neither arrangement nor understanding between them. I should certainly have voted for accepting if I had been there. It is obviously Peel's interest to act a fair and honourable part. In no other way can he stand well with the country; and in spite of the hatred of the Tory landlords and his political followers, and the abuse of the press, there is a very strong impression throughout the country amongst the well-informed and business-like middle classes that Peel is the ablest of our public men, that his intentions are good, his principles sound, and his measures wise and skilful; that on the whole, in spite of prejudice and obloquy, he has governed the country well and supplied correction and improvement in every department and direction. Peel's conduct at the present moment seems to me to be inconsistent with any design of acting unfairly by the new Government. There is such an inveterate distrust and suspicion of him that many people cannot be persuaded he is not hatching some secret and cunning plot to overthrow them in the end; but if his object had been to recover power and reconcile himself with the Tories, he had now in his hands a better opportunity than he can ever expect to find again; if he had only said one word, the Government fell back at once into his hands; if he had said he had insuperable objections to total and immediate repeal, John Russell would at once have declined, and the Queen would have sent for him again. He would have reformed and reinforced his Cabinet, and he would have told the Tories he came back to save them from the extreme measure of John Russell; he would have invited them to support his safer and more moderate measure instead of appearing as their destroyer; he would represent himself as standing between them and destruction, as their defender against ruin. That with his dexterity he might have turned this to account and have assuaged the fury of many of them can hardly be doubted. But he has done nothing of the kind; and in not taking this advantage and rejecting the Government thus placed within his grasp, I think there is far greater assurance of his fair intentions than reason to doubt them because he will not give specific and definite pledges and assurances. All this I have said to one of my friends this morning who has been all along disposed to take a different view of the case and has been the principal advocate for caution and non-acceptance.
SIR ROBERT PEEL'S HONOURABLE CONDUCT.
December 20th.—No novel or play ever presented such vicissitudes and events as this political drama which has been for ten days acted before the public. Yesterday, when I went to dinner at Lord Foley's, Leveson whispered to me that 'everything was at an end.' I had seen nobody in the afternoon and knew nothing, but after dinner he told me Charles Gore had told him this. I went off to Kent House and there heard the whole story. Yesterday morning they met at John Russell's as usual, and first began by a discussion of the compensations, Lord Lansdowne and others thinking it advisable to come to an agreement as to the general principles on which they should proceed in this important particular. Howick as usual argued, disputed, and battled, but at last this question was settled. Then John Russell said, 'Now, if you please, I want to see you singly, and I will begin with Howick.' Accordingly the rest went into the next room. Howick remained there forty minutes, at the end of which he stalked out, head in the air, and, without saying a word to anybody, took himself off. John Russell then called in one or two more and told them what had passed. He had offered Howick the Colonies. Howick accepted, but begged to know the other arrangements, and particularly who was to have the Foreign Office. He told him 'Palmerston.' Then said Howick, 'I will not be in the Cabinet.' He argued with him, told him all the reasons for this arrangement, said everything he could think of, but all in vain. So they parted. Then Bear Ellice, whom John Russell called into council, said it was intolerable; and he and Sir George Grey, who was to have the Home Office, went after him, and it was settled there should be another meeting in the evening. They could not find him for a long time, and when they did he would hear of nothing. It appears that some days ago John Russell did sound Palmerston about taking another office, hinted that people were alarmed at him, but said he would not offer him anything else, and that the Foreign Office was at his disposal. Palmerston did not bite the least, but treated the alarms as fictitious or ridiculous, said he knew nothing of any other office, eulogised his own administration, and said he would take nothing else. Howick had on his side written a letter to John Russell, not objecting to Palmerston, but intimating that he should expect to be informed how the offices were to be allotted: something indicative of a possible breeze, but not of the storm which has burst forth. In the middle of the day John Russell wrote to Palmerston and told him a difficulty had arisen, and that one of their colleagues objected to his taking the Foreign Office. Palmerston very properly replied that 'this was an additional reason for his accepting no other.' In the afternoon John Russell, finding Howick would come to no terms, declared that he would throw the whole thing up, that he could not do without Grey in the Lords, and that the breach with him would produce difficulties and embarrassments that would materially impair his chance of success. Peel was to go down to Windsor this morning to resign, and John Russell wrote to the Queen to inform her of what had occurred, and begged her to put Peel off till the afternoon, and meanwhile he would himself go down to Windsor, where he is, in fact, gone, to resign. I find that most of his colleagues concur in this resolution: Auckland, who was at Kent House, Clarendon and Lord Lansdowne, both of whom have always been against taking office, and I know not who besides. I think they are wrong. It may be a question whether they ought to have accepted or refused upon Peel's letter, whether they had then grounds enough; but it seems to me pusillanimous and discreditable to suffer Howick to break up the Government they had consented to form, upon a purely personal question, unmixed with any political one. Such is the state of things this day at twelve o'clock; but from hour to hour it is impossible to say or guess how it may all be changed. The Government is really like a halfpenny whirling in the air, with John Russell's head on one side and Peel's on the other.
THE WHIG GOVERNMENT COLLAPSES.
Sunday, December 21st.—John Russell went down at eleven o'clock, resigned, and the Queen accepted his resignation. He gave her a Minute, setting forth his difficulties (but without naming Grey and Palmerston) and explanatory of his motives; exceedingly well done, I am told, terse and clear. This he left with her to show to Peel. She behaved very graciously to him, thanked him for his exertions, approved of his conduct, particularly in supporting Palmerston, on whom she pronounced a high eulogy; praised his talents and industry, and said she was sure he would have ably and faithfully discharged his duty. She showed John Russell a letter from Louis Philippe, very judicious and expressive of his confidence that the change in her Government would in no way affect the good understanding which existed between the two countries. Nothing could be more satisfactory than this interview.
At two o'clock Peel arrived, and upon her informing him that John Russell had resigned, giving him the Minute to read, and requesting him to retake the Government, he immediately and without making any difficulties consented to do so, saying, however, that he would have supported John Russell if he had formed his Government. The Queen wrote to John Russell and told him what had passed, which he announced to us at dinner at Palmerston's. I never saw people so happy, as most, perhaps all of them, are to have got out of their engagement; even Lady Palmerston said she did not wish for the Foreign Office again. It was known yesterday that Howick was the cause of this sudden break-up, and what he had done, and there was a general disposition to blame him severely, but also to blame them for not having let him depart and gone on without him. If they had been really anxious to come in, and if they had had an entire confidence in Peel's intentions, they no doubt would have done so; but the Peers of the party, who were all of them opposed to taking office on Thursday, were still more decidedly against it when they found Howick was to leave them. They had counted upon him as their principal speaker in the House of Lords, and when they found that the whole burthen was to fall on them, and that they were very likely to have Howick against them instead of for them, urging impossible measures, they vehemently pressed John Russell to give it up; and this disinclination on the part of so many members of his Cabinet to face these difficulties determined him to resign. If Peel's engagement to support them had been more definite and positive, they would probably not have cared for Howick's secession; but, already dissatisfied with Peel, they were too happy to take the opportunity which Howick afforded them to draw back altogether. Peel's reserve was really then the cause of the failure, and I have a strong suspicion that he was reserved and abstained from pledging himself because he thought John Russell would very likely not be able to accomplish his task, that in case of failure the Government would fall back into his hands, and that he was resolved all the time to retake it if it was offered to him again. At all events he has shown his prudence, and it is very fortunate for him that he did not pledge himself to any particular course, and that he has kept himself at liberty to do exactly what he pleases. He is not the least pledged either for or against total repeal. The conversation I had with Sidney Herbert some nights ago gave me a suspicion that they were looking forward to the possibility, if not the probability, of their immediate resumption of office. I think, on the whole, Lord John had sufficient reason for giving it up, but that the world—that is, the Whig world—and those who desired his success, who cannot know what was passing in his green-room, will think he ought, after going so far, to have gone on to the end. The last scene will not appear to have been well played out. It will be thought that if they saw cause enough on public grounds to undertake it, they ought not to have been deterred from proceeding because one unreasonable member of the Cabinet raised objections and difficulties of a purely personal nature, and which had no reference to the great measure which it was their mission to carry through. This is, as far as one can see, the general opinion.
SIR ROBERT PEEL RESUMES OFFICE.