The Committee of Council met on the matter of the London University; Brougham of course the great performer; LONDON UNIVERSITY CHARTER. the same persons were summoned who had attended before, but great changes had since taken place, which made the assembly curious. There were Melbourne, Lord Lansdowne and certain of his colleagues, Brougham and Lyndhurst—both ex-Chancellors since the last meeting—Richmond, Ripon, Stanley and Graham, the Dilly complete, and Lord Grey. When they came to discuss the matter nobody seemed disposed to move; at last Brougham proposed a resolution ‘that the King should be advised to grant a charter making the petitioners an University, the regulations and restrictions to be determined hereafter.’ The Bishop of London objected on behalf of King’s College to any advantages being conferred on the London University which would place the latter institution in a better condition than the former. After much tedious discussion the words ‘university,’ &c., were omitted, and the resolution moved was ‘to grant a charter.’ The Duke of Richmond formally opposed it, his principal objection being to the insolvent state of the concern. Brougham sat in contemptuous silence for a few minutes while the Duke spoke, and then replied. There was a squabble between them, and an evident inclination on the part of the majority present to refuse the charter, but the address of the Commons with the King’s answer were read, which presented a very difficult case to act upon. The King’s answer amounted very nearly to an engagement to grant a charter; the Privy Council was bound to decide without reference to the address and answer, and the bias there was to advise against the grant. Brougham, after much ineffectual discussion, said in a tone of sarcastic contempt that ‘their hesitation and their scruples were ridiculous, for the House of Commons would step in and cut them both short and settle the question.’ This is doubtless true, and he can effect it when he will; but how monstrous, then, was the vote. The House of Commons had never heard a tittle of the evidence or the argument; the Council had heard it all, and were bound to report upon it, when the House, while the judgment of the Privy Council was still pending, voted an address to the Crown for the purpose of obtaining an adjudication of the matter one particular way, without reference to the proceedings before the tribunal. They all seemed agreed that if it was expedient to grant a charter it required much consideration to decide under what restrictions and regulations it should be conceded, and Lord Grey declared that if he was called upon, without reference to any proceedings elsewhere, to decide upon the arguments they had heard at the bar, he should decide against giving the charter, but if he were called upon to advise the Crown what under all the circumstances it was expedient to do, his advice might be very different. Graham said he could not divest his mind of the knowledge he possessed of what had passed in the House of Commons, and he thought the Government ought to advise the Crown on its own responsibility what course it was expedient to adopt. After wasting an hour and a half in a very fruitless and not very interesting discussion (everybody looking bored to death except Brougham, who was talking all the time) the Council broke up without doing anything, and agreed to meet again on Friday next. Old Eldon was very busy and eager about it, and had all the papers sent to him; he could not attend, being wholly disabled by the gout. Of course the charter (at least a charter) will be given, because the House of Commons in the plenitude of their ignorance, but of their power, have so decided.
June 14th, 1835
Taken up with Epsom since I last wrote, and indisposed to journalising, besides having nothing to say. I did not attend the second meeting at the Privy Council on the London University question. Lord Eldon came to it, and there was some discussion, but without any violence; it ended by a report to the King, requesting he would dispense with the advice of the Council; so the matter remains with the Government. It is clear that they would have advised against granting the charter but for the answer which the King made to the address of the House of Commons, which was in fact a promise to grant it. This answer was the work of Peel and Goulburn, and I can’t imagine what induced them to put such an one into his THE CONSERVATIVE PARTY. Majesty’s mouth, when they might have so properly made him say that he had referred the matter to the Privy Council, and was waiting for their report.
The calm and repose which have succeeded to the storms of the early part of the session are really wonderful; all parties seem disposed to lay aside their arms for the present, one reason of which is that parties are so evenly balanced that neither wishes to try its strength. Then the line which Peel is taking precludes any immediate renewal of hostilities. The measures of Government are confined to one or two questions, of which the Corporation Reform has alone been brought forward. Peel made a very able and dexterous speech upon John Russell’s introduction of that measure, in which he exhibited anew his great superiority, and at once declared his intention of admitting the whole principle of it, reserving to himself to deal as he thought fit with the details. It has been asserted on both sides that the Whigs and the High Tories are equally disgusted at his speech, the former for cutting the ground from under his feet, the latter for his departure from good old High Tory principles. There may be some truth in this, but the Tories profess generally to be satisfied and convinced, and to be quite ready to follow him in the liberal course on which he has entered; so much so that it is now said there is no longer such a thing as a Tory. Peel clearly does not intend that there shall be (as far as he is concerned as their leader) a Tory party, though of course there must be a Conservative party, the great force of which is the old Tory interest, and his object evidently is to establish himself in the good opinion of the country and render himself indispensable—to raise a party out of all other parties, and to convert the new elements of democratic power into an instrument of his own elevation, partly by yielding to and partly by guiding and restraining its desires and opinions. Neither is there any mystery in his conduct; his object and his intentions are evident to all, and it is perhaps advantageous that he has nothing to conceal. At the same time he plays this game with great prudence and ability. It is not his interest to strike great blows, but constantly to augment the reputation and extend the influence he has acquired, and this he does visibly and sensibly. There seems to be an universal impression that nothing can keep him out of office long. This Government may probably scramble through the session; there is no particular question on which they are likely to be overturned, but there is a conviction that any Government must be provisional in which Peel is not included, and that before long the country will insist upon his return to power.
June 19th, 1835
At Stoke for the Ascot races. Alvanley was there—nobody else remarkable; fine weather and great luxury. Riding to the course on Wednesday, I overtook Adolphus Fitzclarence in the Park, who rode with me, and gave me an account of his father’s habits and present state of mind. The former are as follows:—He sleeps in the same room with the Queen, but in a separate bed; at a quarter before eight every morning his valet de chambre knocks at the door, and at ten minutes before eight exactly he gets out of bed, puts on a flannel dressing-gown and trousers, and walks into his dressing-room. Let who will be there, he never takes the slightest notice of them till he emerges from this sanctuary, when, like the malade imaginaire, he accosts whoever may be present with a cheerful aspect. He is long at his ablutions, and takes up an hour and a half in dressing. At half-past nine he breakfasts with the Queen, the ladies, and any of his family; he eats a couple of fingers and drinks a dish of coffee. After breakfast he reads the ‘Times’ and ‘Morning Post,’ commenting aloud on what he reads in very plain terms, and sometimes they hear ‘That’s a damned lie,’ or some such remark, without knowing to what it applies. After breakfast he devotes himself with Sir Herbert Taylor to business till two, when he lunches (two cutlets and two glasses of sherry); then he goes out for a drive till dinner time; at dinner he drinks a bottle of sherry—no other wine—and eats moderately; he goes to bed soon after eleven. He is in dreadfully low spirits, and cannot rally at all; the only interval of pleasure which he has lately KING WILLIAM’S PERSONAL HABITS. had was during the Devonshire election, when he was delighted at John Russell’s defeat. He abhors all his Ministers, even those whom he used rather to like formerly, but hates Lord John the most of all. When Adolphus told him that a dinner ought to be given for the Ascot races he said, ‘You know I cannot give a dinner; I cannot give any dinners without inviting the Ministers, and I would rather see the Devil than any one of them in my house.’ I asked him how he was with them in his inevitable official relations. He said that he had as little to do with them as he could, and bowed them out when he gave any of them audiences as fast as possible. He is peculiarly disgusted with Errol, for whom he has done so much, and who has behaved so ungratefully to him; but it is a good trait of him that he said ‘he hoped the world would not accuse Errol of ingratitude.’ He did not invite Errol to the Castle even for the Ascot races, and has seen little or nothing of him since the change. Adolphus said that he believed he was saving money. He has 120,000ℓ. a year, of which 40,000ℓ. goes in pensions; the rest is at his own disposal. He gives up his Hanoverian revenue—about 16,000ℓ. a year—to the Duke of Cambridge.
June 21st, 1835
Yesterday I dined with Lord Ripon; Lord Grey and Stanley and Graham dined there. I sat next to the latter, who holds nothing but Tory language. He talked of Stanley’s letter to Sir Thomas Hesketh, and of the great offence it has given the Tories. Graham thought it indiscreet and uncalled for, though in the principles (anti-clubbism and anti-associations) he agreed. Graham is very full of the expedition to Spain,[7] and expresses much alarm at the idea of an army being formed which is to act independently of the control and authority of the Government, to be composed of Irish Catholics, supplied by O’Connell (who, he says, has been to Alava and offered him any number of men) and commanded by Evans, who is a Republican. He believes that Peel entertains the same sentiments of aversion and alarm that he does; but he said that when he attempted to draw from him his opinion the other night he could not succeed; that Stanley has no alarm on the subject; expects that on Wednesday next Peel will make a severe attack upon the Government on this matter; [but this fell to the ground].
[7] [This was the Spanish Legion, commanded by General de Lacy Evans. Licence was given under the Foreign Enlistment Act for British subjects to enter the service of Queen Isabella.]
In the morning yesterday I was in court for the unfortunate case of Swift and Kelly, about which I cannot help taking an interest from having been originally concerned in it, and because I think there has been great villany somewhere. Some of the circumstances connected with this appeal are curious, as showing the accidents on which the issue of matters of vital importance to the parties often depend, and how the mistakes or selfishness of individuals concerned may influence the result, and in a way they little expected or calculated upon.