[6] [William Lamb, second Lord Melbourne, afterwards Prime Minister.]
I found Sefton in town last night, and went to the play with him. He has had a letter from Brougham, who told him he should go to the Liverpool dinner and attack the Duke of Wellington; that it was the only opportunity he should ever have in his life of meeting him face to face, and DEATH OF MR. HUSKISSON. he then proceeded to relate all that he should say. Sefton wrote him word that if he said half what he intended the chairman would order him to be turned out of the room. He won’t go, I am persuaded.
Newark, September 18th, 1830
Went back to Panshanger last Tuesday; found there Madame de Lieven, Melbourne, and the Hollands and Allen. Lord Holland was very agreeable, as he always is, and told many anecdotes of George Selwyn, Lafayette, and others. I saw them arrive in a coach-and-four and chaise-and-pair—two footmen, a page, and two maids. He said (what is true) that there is hardly such a thing in the world as a good house or a good epitaph, and yet mankind have been employed in building the former and writing the latter since the beginning almost. Came to town on Thursday, and in the afternoon heard the news of Huskisson’s horrible accident, and yesterday morning got a letter from Henry with the details, which are pretty correctly given in the ‘Times’ newspaper. It is a very odd thing, but I had for days before a strong presentiment that some terrible accident would occur at this ceremony, and I told Lady Cowper so, and several other people. Nothing could exceed the horror of the few people in London at this event, or the despair of those who looked up to him politically. It seems to have happened in this way:—While the Duke’s car was stopping to take in water, the people alighted and walked about the railroad; when suddenly another car, which was running on the adjoining level, came up. Everybody scrambled out of the way, and those who could got again into the first car. This Huskisson attempted to do, but he was slow and awkward; as he was getting in some part of the machinery of the other car struck the door of his, by which he was knocked down. He was taken up, and conveyed by Wilton[7] and Mrs. Huskisson (who must have seen the accident happen) to the house of Mr. Blackburne, eight miles from Heaton. Wilton saved his life for a few hours by knowing how to tie up the artery; amputation was not possible, and he expired at ten o’clock that night. Wilton, Lord Granville, and Littleton were with him to the last. Mrs. Huskisson behaved with great courage. The Duke of Wellington was deeply affected, and it was with the greatest difficulty he could be induced to proceed upon the progress to Manchester, and at last he only yielded to the most pressing solicitations of the directors and others, and to a strong remonstrance that the mob might be dangerous if he did not appear. It is impossible to figure to one’s self any event which could produce a greater sensation or be more striking to the imagination than this, happening at such a time and under such circumstances: the eminence of the man, the sudden conversion of a scene of gaiety and splendour into one of horror and dismay; the countless multitudes present, and the effect upon them—crushed to death in sight of his wife and at the feet (as it was) of his great political rival—all calculated to produce a deep and awful impression. The death of Huskisson cannot fail to have an important effect upon political events; it puts an end to his party as a party, but it leaves the survivors at liberty to join either the Opposition or the Government, while during his life there were great difficulties to their doing either, in consequence of the antipathy which many of the Whigs had to him on one side and the Duke of Wellington on the other. There is no use, however, in speculating on what will happen, which a very short time will show.
[7] [Thomas Grosvenor Egerton, second Earl of Wilton.]
Agar Ellis told me yesterday morning that he had received a letter from Brougham a day or two ago, in which he said that he was going to Liverpool, and hoped there to sign a treaty with Huskisson, so that it is probable they would have joined to oppose the Government. As to the Duke of Wellington, a fatality attends him, and it is perilous to cross his path. There were perhaps 500,000 people present on this occasion, and probably not a soul besides hurt. One man only is killed, and that man is his most dangerous political opponent, the one from whom he had most to fear. It is the more remarkable because these great people are generally taken such care of, and put out of the chance of accidents. Canning had scarcely reached the CHARACTER OF HUSKISSON. zenith of his power when he was swept away, and the field was left open to the Duke, and no sooner is he reduced to a state of danger and difficulty than the ablest of his adversaries is removed by a chance beyond all power of calculation.
Huskisson was about sixty years old, tall, slouching, and ignoble-looking. In society he was extremely agreeable, without much animation, generally cheerful, with a great deal of humour, information, and anecdote, gentlemanlike, unassuming, slow in speech, and with a downcast look, as if he avoided meeting anybody’s gaze. I have said what Melbourne thought of him, and that was the opinion of his party. It is probably true that there is no man in Parliament, or perhaps out of it, so well versed in finance, commerce, trade, and colonial matters, and that he is therefore a very great and irreparable loss. It is nevertheless remarkable that it is only within the last five or six years that he acquired the great reputation which he latterly enjoyed. I do not think he was looked upon as more than a second-rate man till his speeches on the silk trade and the shipping interest; but when he became President of the Board of Trade he devoted himself with indefatigable application to the maturing and reducing to practice those commercial improvements with which his name is associated, and to which he owes all his glory and most of his unpopularity. It is equally true that all the ablest men in the country coincide with him, and that the mass of the community are persuaded that his plans are mischievous to the last degree. The man whom he consulted through the whole course of his labours and enquiries was Hume,[8] who is now in the Board of Trade, and whose vast experience and knowledge were of incalculable service to him. Great as his abilities unquestionably were, it is impossible to admire his judgment, which seems repeatedly to have failed him, particularly in his joining the Duke’s Government on Goderich’s resignation, which was a capital error, his speech afterwards at Liverpool and his subsequent quarrel with the Duke. In all these cases he acted with the greatest imprudence, and he certainly contrived, without exposing himself to any specific charge, to be looked upon as a statesman of questionable honour and integrity; and of this his friends as well as his enemies were aware. As a speaker in the House of Commons he was luminous upon his own subject, but he had no pretensions to eloquence; his voice was feeble and his manner ungraceful; however, he was (unfortunately) one of the first men in the House, and was listened to with attention upon any subject. He left no children. Mrs. Huskisson has a pension of 1,200ℓ. a year. The accounts from Paris improve, inasmuch as there seems a better prospect than there has been lately of tranquillity in the country. Sneyd writes word that there is little doubt but that the Duc de Bourbon was assassinated.[9]
[8] [John Deacon Hume, the Assistant Joint Secretary of the Board of Trade.]
[9] [The Duc de Bourbon-Condé was found hanging in his bedroom. Suspicion pointed to Madame de Fenchères, his mistress, as privy to the cause of his death, which however, was never clearly ascertained. The Duke had made an ample provision for Madame de Fenchères in his will, but the bulk of his vast property, including Chantilly, was bequeathed to the Duc d’Aumale, fourth son of King Louis Philippe. The Duc de Bourbon was the father of the unfortunate Duc d’Enghien.]
Last night to Brockett Hall, where I slept and came on here to-day. The King has paid me 300ℓ. for Goodison, the late Duke’s jockey, which settles all he owed at Newmarket, and was a very good-natured act.