July 25th, 1832
Nothing of moment has occurred lately; the dread of cholera absorbs everybody. Mrs. Smith, young and beautiful, was dressed to go to church on Sunday morning, when she was seized with the disorder, never had a chance of rallying, and died at eleven at night. This event, shocking enough in itself from its suddenness and the youth and beauty of the person, has created a terrible alarm; many people have taken flight, and others are suspended between their hopes of safety in country air and their dread of being removed from metropolitan aid. The disease spreads gradually in all directions in town and country, but without appearing like an epidemic; it is scattered and uncertain; it brings to light horrible distress. We, who live on the smooth and plausible surface, know little of the frightful appearance of the bowels of society.
Don Pedro has never been heard of since he landed, and nobody seems much to care whether he or Miguel succeed. The Tories are for the latter and the Whigs for the former. In a fourth debate on the Russian Dutch Loan Ministers got a good finale, a large division, and a brilliant speech from Stanley, totally unprepared and prodigiously successful. Nothing could be worse in point of tactics than renewing this contest, neither party having, in fact, a good case. Parliament is going to separate soon, and the cholera will accelerate the prorogation; not a step has been made towards an approximation between the rival parties, who appear to be animated against each other with unabated virulence. The moderate Tories talk of their desire to see the Government discard their Radical friends, but the great body give them no encouragement to do so by evincing any diminished hostility to them as a party. Opinions are so different as to the probable composition of the next Parliament, that it is difficult to arrive at any satisfactory conclusion about it. The Tories evidently expect that they shall reappear in very formidable strength, though in particular places the Tory party is entirely crushed; the sooner it is so altogether the better, for no good can be expected from it, and it would be far better to erect a Conservative party upon a new and broader basis than to try and bolster up this worn-out, prejudiced, obstinate faction. But the times are difficult and men are wanting; the middle classes are pressing on, and there are men enough there of fortune, energy, activity, zeal, and ambition—no Cannings perhaps or Broughams, but a host of fellows of the calibre of the actors in the old French Constituent Assembly.
July 29th, 1832
There has been a great breeze between the Chancellor and Sugden, abusing and retorting upon each QUARREL BETWEEN BROUGHAM AND SUGDEN. other from their respective Houses of Parliament. As all personal matters excite greater interest than any others, so has this. Scott, Lord Eldon’s son, died, and his places became vacant. Brougham had recommended their abolition long ago in his evidence before the House of Commons, and both publicly and privately. Some days ago Sugden gave notice to Horne (Solicitor-General) that he meant to put a question to him in the House of Commons as to whether these appointments were to be filled up or not, but before he did so (at four o’clock in the morning) the writ was moved for James Brougham, who had been put by the Chancellor in Scott’s place. Accordingly the next day Sugden attacked the appointment in the House of Commons, and though he was by way of only asking a question, he in fact made a long vituperative speech. Nobody was there to reply. Althorp said he knew nothing of the matter, and various speeches were made, all expressive of a desire that the appointment should only be temporary. Horne (it seems) had never told the Chancellor what Sugden said, and Denman, who had no authority from him, did not dare get up and say that it was not to be permanent. Later in the day, having received instructions from the Chancellor, he did get up and say so. The next day Brougham introduced the subject in the House of Lords, and attacked Sugden with all the sarcasm and contumely which he could heap upon him, comparing him to ‘a crawling reptile,’ &c. Not one of his Tory friends said a word, and, what is curious, the Duke of Wellington praised Brougham for his disinterestedness, and old Eldon defended the place. The following day (Friday) Sugden again brought the matter before the House of Commons, complained bitterly of the Chancellor’s speech, was called to order by Stanley, when the Speaker interfered, and, dexterously turning Sugden’s attack upon the newspaper report, enabled him to go on. A violent discussion followed, rather awkward for the Chancellor, whose friends endeavoured to soften the thing down by denying the accuracy of the report. After much acrimonious debate the matter ended. Yesterday the ‘Times,’ throwing over Brougham and Sugden, asserted the accuracy of its own reporter, and declared that whether the Chancellor was right or wrong to have uttered them, the words were spoken by him exactly as they had been reported. Both parties are furious, but on the whole the Chancellor seems at present to have the worst of it, for it is worse for a man in his station to be in the wrong, and more indecent to be scurrilous, than for an individual who is nothing. Sugden now declares he will bring on a motion he has long meditated on the subject of the Court of Chancery, in which he will exhibit to the world the whole conduct of Brougham since he has held the Great Seal, his early haste and precipitation, his recent carelessness and delay, his ignorance, inattention, and incompetence for the office he holds. In this he expects to be supported by Wetherell, Knight, and Pemberton, three of the most eminent Chancery lawyers, while Brougham has nobody but Horne (of the profession) to defend him. If this should occur he may thank himself, for he would put Horne there.
Sir Charles Bagot called on me yesterday; told me that he thought the Belgian question was at last on the point of being settled, that the King of Holland had made ‘the great concession,’ and that the rest must soon follow, that he had never passed two such years amidst such difficulties, the King so obstinate. His view was that by holding out and maintaining a large army events would produce war, and that he would be able to sell himself to some one of the contending parties, getting back Belgium as the price of his aid, that he now only gave in because not a hope was left, that the difficulties were so great that it was not the fault of this Government that matters were not settled before. I asked him how the Dutch had contrived to make such an exertion. He said it was very creditable to them, but that they were very rich and very frugal, and had lugged out their hoards. They had saddled themselves with a debt the interest of which amounts to about 700,000ℓ. a year—a good deal for two millions of people.
August 1st, 1832
Here is an anecdote exhibiting the character of Brougham, hot, passionate, and precipitate. He is preparing BROUGHAM’S RESENTMENT. his Bill for the amendment of the Court of Chancery, by which the patronage is to be done away with. Compensation was to be given to the present interests, but upon this recent affair between Sugden and him, to revenge himself upon men who are all or mostly of Sugden’s party, he ordered the compensation clauses to be struck out. Sefton (who is a sort of Sancho to him) came up to dinner quite elated at having heard the order given. ‘I wish,’ said he, ‘you had heard a man treated as I did in the Chancellor’s room. He came in to ask him about the Bill he was drawing up. “I suppose the compensation clauses are to be put in?” “Compensation?” said Brougham. “No, by God; no compensation. Leave them out, if you please. They chose to attack me, and they shall have enough of it.”’ And what will be the end of all this—that the Chancellor shows his spite and commits himself, shows that he is influenced in legislation by personal feelings, and incurs the suspicion that because he cannot get a compensation for his brother he is resolved nobody else shall have any? Althorp’s speech about the pensions on Monday set at rest the question of compensation, and if these offices are abolished the Chancellor cannot prevent their getting it. In the House of Lords the eternal Russian Dutch Loan came on again. The Duke made a speech and Wynford made a speech, and they were opposed to each other; the Duke hit the right nail on the head, and took that course which he frequently does, and which is such a redeeming quality in his political character—addressed himself to the question itself, to the real merits of it, without making it a mere vehicle for annoying the Government. Aberdeen sneered, but when the Duke throws over his people they can do nothing.
August 8th, 1832
Pedro’s expedition, which always has hobbled along, and never exhibited any of that dash which is essential to the success of such efforts, may be considered hopeless; Palmella arrived here a day or two ago, very low, and the Regency scrip has fallen four per cent. Nobody joins them, and it seems pretty clear that, one coquin for another, the Portuguese think they may as well have Miguel. The Dutch affair is not yet settled, but on the point of it; for the fiftieth time a ‘little hitch’ has again arisen. Last night, in the House of Lords, the Chancellor, in one of his most bungling ways, made what he meant to be a sort of amende to Sugden, making the matter rather worse than it was before, at least for his own credit, for he said that ‘he had never intended to give pain, which he of all things abhorred,’ and that he had not been at all in a passion—both false, and the latter being in fact his only excuse. I sat next to Melbourne at dinner, who concurred in the judgment of the world on the whole transaction, and said, ‘The real truth is, he was in a great rage, for he had forgotten all his own evidence and his own speeches, and he meant to have kept the place.’ This evidence from his own colleague and friend is conclusive, and will be a nice morsel for the future biographer of Brougham.