There is a fresh démêlé with Russia on account of a new treaty concluded by Achmet Pacha at St. Petersburg. By this Russia agrees to remit six millions of the ten which Turkey owes her, and to give up the Principalities, but she keeps the fortress of Silistria and the military road, which gives her complete command over them. The Sultan, ‘not to be outdone in generosity,’ in return for so much, kindly cedes to Russia a slip of sea-coast on the Black Sea, adjoining another portion already ceded by the Treaty of Adrianople as far south as Poti. This territorial acquisition is not considerable in itself, but it embraces the line of communication with Persia, by which we have a vast traffic, and which Russia will be able at any time to interrupt. This new transaction, so quietly and plausibly effected, has thrown our Government into a great rage, and especially his Majesty King William, who insisted upon a dozen ships being sent off forthwith to the Mediterranean. Nothing vigorous, however, has been done, and Palmerston has contented himself with writing to Lord Ponsonby, desiring him to exhort the Sultan not to ratify this treaty, and rather to pay (or more properly, continue to owe) the whole ten millions than accede to the wily proposal. This advice will probably seem more friendly than disinterested, and I have not the slightest idea of the Sultan’s listening to it. He has, in fact, become the vassal of Russia, and his lot is settled in this respect, for from Russia he has most to fear and most to hope. The conduct of our Government in this question, has been marked by nothing but negligence and indecision, vainly blustering and threatening at one moment and tamely submitting and acquiescing at another, ‘willing to wound and yet afraid to strike,’ treating Russia as if she was the formidable foe of Turkey, and allowing her so to act as to make Turkey think her an ally and protectress, and finally to throw herself into Russia’s arms.
I went yesterday morning to Peel’s house, to see his pictures; since we met at Buckenham we have got rather intimate. The fact is that, though I have never been a great admirer of his character, and probably he is not improved in high-mindedness, I am so sensible of his capacity, and of the need in which we stand of him, that I wish to see him again in power, and he is a very agreeable man into the bargain. His collection is excellent, and does honour to his taste. We talked of various matters, but the thing that struck me most was what he said had passed between him and Stanley the night before indicative of such good feeling between them. It was about the job of Lord Plunket’s with regard to the Deanery of Down (concerning which they say there is a very good case; not that it will do, be it ever so good, for Plunket has a bad name, and public opinion will not pause or retract in any concern of his). He and Stanley met at Madame de Lieven’s ball, and Peel said to him, ‘Why did you let that appointment take place?’ Stanley replied, ‘The fact is, I could not give the true and only excuse for Plunket, viz., that he had signed the report, but had never read it.’ Peel said, ‘You had better give him some other deanery and cancel this appointment.’ They talked for a long time, but this tone and this advice exhibit a state of sentiment by no means incompatible with a future union, when matters are ripe for it. I found Peel full of curiosity to know for what purpose Brougham and Denman had been hunting each other about the County of Beds. The Chief Justice was on the circuit at Bedford, and the Chancellor LORD BROUGHAM’S JUDICIAL CHANGES. sent to him by special messenger to appoint a meeting. The Chancellor went to Ampthill, and then to Bedford. The Chief Justice had left Bedford in the morning, and went towards London. Brougham had left his carriage at Ampthill and hired a job one, that he might enter Bedford incognito. Somewhere between Barnet and St. Albans they met, and returned to town together in the Chancellor’s job coach. They went to Lord Grey’s, and the next day Denman returned to the circuit, which he had left without notice to his brother judge or to anybody—a mystery.
March 16th, 1834
Heard last night the explanation of the above. Brougham found that Williams would not do in the Exchequer, so he shuffled up the judges and redealt them. Williams was shoved up to the Common Pleas, Bosanquet sent to the King’s Bench, and James Parke put into the Exchequer. I thought this was odd, because the Exchequer is an inferior court; but I was told that Parke likes to be with Lord Lyndhurst, who has now made the Court of Exchequer of primary importance. 48,000 writs were issued from the Exchequer last year, and only 39,000 from the King’s Bench. I forget what the proportions used to be, but enormously the other way. It is quite ludicrous to talk to any lawyer about the Chancellor; the ridicule and aversion he has excited are universal. They think he has degraded the profession, and his tricks are so palpable, numerous, and mean, that political partiality can neither screen nor defend them. As to the separation of the judicial from the ministerial duties of his office, it is in great measure accomplished without any legislative act, for nobody ever thinks of bringing an original cause into his Court. He has nothing to hear but appeals, which must come before him, and lunacy and other matters, over which he has sole jurisdiction.
March 19th, 1834
The night before last Sheil brought on a debate on the Turkish question, when Palmerston made a wretched speech, and Peel attacked him very smartly, as it is his delight to do, for he dislikes Palmerston. Talleyrand said to me last night, ‘Palmerston a très-bien parlé.’ I told him everybody thought it pitiable. He certainly took care to flatter France and not to offend Russia. In the Lords Brougham took occasion, in replying to some question of Ellenborough’s, to defend himself from the charges which have been brought against him of negligence and incapacity in his judicial office, and he made out a good case for himself as far as industry and despatch are concerned. Nobody ever denied him the merit of the former quality. The virulent attacks of the Tory press (that is, of the ‘Morning Post,’ by Praed, for the ‘Standard’ rather defends him) have overshot their mark, and, though the general opinion of the Bar seems to condemn him as a bad Chancellor, he is probably not near so bad as they endeavour to make him out. A mind so vigorous as his will master difficulties in a short time at which an inferior capacity would in vain hammer away for years; but his life, habits, and turn of mind seem all incompatible with profound law-learning. He said to Sefton, after he had spoken, ‘They had better leave me alone. I was afraid that when Londonderry was gone nobody would attack me, and I did not think Ellenborough would have been damned fool enough.’ They certainly can’t get the best of him at the gab.
George Villiers continues to give a deplorable account of Spanish affairs—of the imbecility of the Government, and of the conduct of the Queen, about whom the stories of gallantry are quite true, and he says it has done irreparable injury to her cause. An embassy had arrived from Pedro, with a proposition that they should concert a combined operation for crushing the Miguelites and the Carlists both, beginning with the former. George Villiers seems to think it feasible, but doubts if the Spanish Government has sufficient energy and courage to undertake such an operation.
March 25th, 1834
Dined with Peel on Saturday; a great dinner with the Duke of Gloucester and the Ambassadors. The day before, in the House of Lords, Lord Grey presented a petition from certain members of the University of Cambridge, praying for the admission of Dissenters to take degrees, which he introduced with a very good speech. The DINNER AT SIR ROBERT PEEL’S. Duke of Gloucester, who, as Chancellor of the University, ought properly to have said whatever there was to say, was not there (in which Silly Billy did a wise thing), so the Duke of Wellington rose to speak in his stead. It may have been that considering himself to stand in the Duke of Gloucester’s shoes, he could not make too foolish a speech, and accordingly he delivered one of those harangues which make men shrug their shoulders with pity or astonishment. It is always a matter of great regret to me when he exposes himself in this manner. After dinner at Peel’s I talked to Lyndhurst about it, who said, ‘Unlucky thing that Chancellorship of Oxford; it will make him commit himself in a very inconvenient manner. The Duke is so very obstinate; if he thought that it was possible to act any longer upon those High Church principles it would be all very well, but you have transferred power to a class of a lower description, and particularly to the great body of Dissenters, and it is obvious that those principles are now out of date; the question is, under the circumstances, What is best to be done?’ Lord Ellenborough entirely threw the Duke over, and made a very good speech, agreeing to the prayer of the petitioners, with the reservation only of certain securities which Lord Grey himself approves of. I dined with him the day following, and he said so, adding at the same time, ‘though I dare say they will consider them as an insult, and make great complaints at their imposition. However, I don’t care for that, and if they don’t choose to accept what is offered them on such conditions, they may go without it.’ There are two things which strike one (at least strike me) in the discussion—that of the two principal actors the Duke of Wellington is incomparably a man of a more vigorous understanding, and of greater firmness, energy, and decision than Lord Grey, but that Lord Grey appears like an accomplished orator, and prudent, sagacious, liberal statesman, while the other exhibits bigoted, narrow-minded views, ignorance almost discreditable, and nothing but a blind zeal in deference to the obstinate prejudices of the academical body with which he has connected himself. Who would imagine (who heard the two men and knew nothing more of them) that the latter is in reality immensely superior to the former in mind and understanding? Nor must it be supposed that the Duke of Wellington, if he came into power, would act in a manner corresponding with his declared opinions. Very far from it; he would do just as he did with regard to the Test Act and the Catholic question, and if he was at the head of the Government, he would calculate what sort and amount of concession it was necessary to make, and would make it, without caring a farthing about the University of Oxford or his own former speeches. The ‘Times’ in its remarks on his speech was very insolent, but excessively droll.
Denman’s peerage is much abused; it is entirely the Chancellor’s doing. Denman has no fortune and a feeble son to succeed him, and it was hoped that the practice of making all the Chief Justices Peers would have been discontinued in his person. Brougham wrote to Lyndhurst, ostensibly to inform him of this event, but really to apologise for the misstatements he had made in his speech about the business he (Lyndhurst) had done in the House of Lords and in the Court of Chancery. Lyndhurst said (to me), ‘What nonsense it is. He has done all he could do, and so did his predecessors before him; he has sat as long as he could, and if he has not got through as much business it is because counsel have made longer speeches, for I am told his practice is never to interrupt them, to take away his papers, and come down a few days after and deliver a written judgment.’