This morning the Duke fought a duel with Lord Winchelsea. Nothing could equal the astonishment caused by this event. Everybody of course sees the matter in a different light; all blame Lord W., but they are divided as to whether the Duke ought to have fought or not. Lord W.’s letter appeared last Monday, and certainly from that time to this it never entered into anybody’s head that the Duke ought to or would take it up, though the expressions in it were very impertinent. But Lord Winchelsea is such a maniac, and has so lost his head (besides the ludicrous incident of the handkerchief[7]), that everybody imagined the Duke would treat what he said with silent contempt. He thought otherwise, however, and without saying a word to any of his colleagues or to anybody but Hardinge, his second, he wrote and demanded an apology. After many letters and messages between the parties (Lord Falmouth being Lord Winchelsea’s second) Lord Winchelsea declined making any apology, and they met. The letters on the Duke’s part are very creditable, so free from arrogance or an assuming tone; those on Lord Winchelsea’s not so, for one of them is a senseless repetition of the offence, in which he says that if the Duke will deny that his allegations are true he will apologise. They met at Wimbledon at eight o’clock. There were many people about, who saw what passed. They stood at a distance of fifteen paces. Before they began DUEL OF THE DUKE AND LORD WINCHELSEA. Hardinge went up to Lords Winchelsea and Falmouth, and said he must protest against the proceeding, and declare that their conduct in refusing an apology when Lord Winchelsea was so much in the wrong filled him with disgust. The Duke fired and missed, and then Winchelsea fired in the air. He immediately pulled out of his pocket the paper which has since appeared, but in which the word ‘apology’ was omitted. The Duke read it and said it would not do. Lord Falmouth said he was not come there to quibble about words, and that he was ready to make the apology in whatever terms would be satisfactory, and the word ‘apology’ was inserted on the ground. The Duke then touched his hat, said ‘Good morning, my Lords,’ mounted his horse, and rode off. Hume was there, without knowing on whose behalf till he got to the ground. Hardinge asked him to attend, and told him where he would find a chaise, into which he got. He found there pistols, which told him the errand he was on, but he had still no notion the Duke was concerned; when he saw him he was ready to drop. The Duke went to Mrs. Arbuthnot’s as soon as he got back, and at eleven o’clock she wrote a note to Lord Bathurst, telling him of it, which he received at the Council board and put into my hands. So little idea had he of Lord Winchelsea’s letter leading to anything serious that when on Wednesday, at the Council at Windsor, I asked him if he had read it, he said, laughing, ‘Yes, and it is a very clever letter, much the wisest thing he ever did; he has got back his money. I wish I could find some such pretext to get back mine.’ At twelve o’clock the Duke went to Windsor to tell the King what had happened. Winchelsea is abused for not having made an apology when it was first required; but I think, having committed the folly of writing so outrageous a letter, he did the only thing a man of honour could do in going out and receiving a shot and then making an apology, which he was all this time prepared to do, for he had it ready written in his pocket. I think the Duke ought not to have challenged him; it was very juvenile, and he stands in far too high a position, and his life is so much publica cura that he should have treated him and his letter with the contempt they merited; it was a great error in judgment, but certainly a venial one, for it is impossible not to admire the high spirit which disdained to shelter itself behind the immunities of his great character and station, and the simplicity, and almost humility, which made him at once descend to the level of Lord Winchelsea, when he might, without subjecting himself to any imputation derogatory to his honour, have assumed a tone of lofty superiority and treated him as unworthy of his notice. Still it was beneath his dignity; it lowered him, and was more or less ridiculous. Lord Jersey met him coming from Windsor, and spoke to him. He said, ‘I could not do otherwise, could I?’

[7] [The incident of the handkerchief is related below, p. 198 (March 29th, 1829).]

I met the Bishop of Oxford in the Park this morning; he said nine bishops, and probably ten, would vote for the Bill. He said he was not at the meeting at Lambeth, but the Archbishop sent for him, and despatched him to the Duke with an account of their proceedings. The Archbishop summoned the bishops to consult upon the course they should pursue, and see if there was any chance of their acting with unanimity. Finding this was not possible, they resolved that each should take his own line; and a proposal to address the King, which was urged by one or two of the most violent (he did not name them), was overruled. The anti-Catholic papers and men lavish the most extravagant encomiums on Wetherell’s speech, and call it ‘the finest oration ever delivered in the House of Commons,’ ‘the best since the second Philippic.’ He was drunk, they say. The Speaker said ‘the only lucid interval he had was that between his waistcoat and his breeches.’ When he speaks he unbuttons his braces, and in his vehement action his breeches fall down and his waistcoat runs up, so that there is a great interregnum. He is half mad, eccentric, ingenious, with great and varied information and a coarse, vulgar mind, delighting in ribaldry and abuse, besides being an enthusiast. The first time he distinguished himself was in Watson’s trial, when he and Copley were his counsel, and both made very able speeches. He was then a trading lawyer and politician, till the Queen came over, when he made a very powerful speech in the House of THE KING ON THE DUEL. Commons, full of research, in favour of inserting her name in the Liturgy. He was then engaged by Chancellor Eldon for the Court, soon after made Solicitor-General, much abused for ratting, became Attorney-General, and resigned when Canning became Minister. He was restored when the Duke was made Prime Minister, and now he will have to retire again.

March 26th, 1829

Everything is getting on very quietly in the House of Commons, and the Opposition are beginning to squabble among themselves, some wishing to create delay, and others not choosing to join in these tricks, when they know it is useless. The Duke came here the night before last, but I was not at home. He talked over the whole matter with his usual simplicity. The King, it seems, was highly pleased with the Winchelsea affair, and he said, ‘I did not see the letter (which is probably a lie); if I had, I certainly should have thought it my duty to call your attention to it.’ Somebody added that ‘he would be wanting to fight a duel himself.’ Sefton said, ‘he will be sure to think he has fought one.’ Hume gave the two Lords a lecture on the ground after the duel, and said he did not think there was a man in England who would have lifted his hand against the Duke. Very uncalled for, but the Duke’s friends have less humility than he has, for Lord Winchelsea did not lift his hand against him. It is curious that the man who threw the bottle at Lord Wellesley in Dublin (and who is a Protestant fanatic) has been lurking constantly about the House of Lords, so much so that it was thought right to apprise Peel of it, and the police have been desired in consequence to keep a strict watch over him, and to take care that he does no mischief. The Duke after the duel sent Lord Melville to the Duke of Montrose with a message that his son-in-law had behaved very much like a gentleman. The women, particularly of course Lady Jersey, have been very ridiculous, affecting nervousness and fine feeling, though they never heard of the business till some hours after it was over. Mrs. Arbuthnot was not so foolish but made very light of it all, which was in better sense and better taste.

M—— told me two days ago that, although he is more quiet, the King is not at all reconciled to the Catholic question. His Majesty was very much annoyed at his speech the other day, having always hoped that he was at heart too indifferent about it to take a decided line or express publicly a strong opinion. It is supposed that either Sugden or Alderson will be Solicitor-General. O’Connell has done himself great credit by his moderation in the Committee. Grattan wanted to move an amendment omitting the words by which O’Connell is excluded from taking his seat for Clare, when Rice and Duncannon begged him to withdraw it, and said they were charged with the expression of O’Connell’s wish that his individual case should not be thought of, as he would not have it be any impediment to the success of the measure. This, of course, greatly annoys those who have inveighed against him, and who have always contended that he only wished for confusion, and would be very sorry to see the question settled.

The other day Jack Lawless[8] called on Arbuthnot to ask him some question about the Deccan prize money, in which a brother of his has an interest. He entered upon politics, was very obsequious in his manner, extravagant in praise of the Duke, quite shocked that he should have fought a duel, and said, ‘Sir, we are twelve of us here, and not one but what would fight for him any day in the week.’ He said that some years ago, when he heard the Duke speak, he was distressed at his hesitation, but that now he spoke better than anyone; that in the Lords he heard Eldon, and Plunket, and Grey, and then up got the Duke and answered everybody, and spoke better than they all. Arbuthnot says he was bowing and scraping, and all humility and politeness, with none of the undergrowl of the Association.

[8] [A prominent member of the Catholic Association in Dublin.]

March 26th, 1829, at night

Just met M——, who had returned that moment from Windsor, where he had left the King in such an ill humour that he would not stay and dine there. The Duke of Cumberland never goes there without unsettling his mind, and yesterday evening Lord Mansfield LORD ELDON’S INTERVIEW WITH THE KING. had been to the Castle and had an audience. Lord Eldon prevails on all these Peers to exercise their right and demand audiences. Lord Mansfield had no petition to present, and only went to remonstrate about the Catholic question and tell the King that all the Protestants looked to him to save them from the impending danger. The King declares he only listens to what they say, and replies that he must leave everything to his Ministers; but it is impossible for him to listen (and not talk himself) for an hour and a quarter together. He is very angry at the Bishop of Winchester’s speech, and at the declaration in favour of the Bill by both of the brothers.[9] He accused M—— of having influenced the Bishop, which he denied, and told him that he would not have been biassed by anybody. The King still is in hopes that the Bill will not pass, and said that the Ministers had only a majority of five, and with that they would not carry it through. M—— replied that they had above fifty, and after such a majority as there had been in the Commons it must pass. All this he received as sulkily as possible, and it is clear that if he dared, and if he could, he would still defeat the measure. His dislike to it is the opposition of a spoiled child, founded on considerations purely personal and selfish and without any reason whatever.