March 13th, 1836

It was only yesterday that I read the report of the Committee and O’Connell’s complete acquittal.[2] It is very singular that he does not seem to have known his own case, or he might have rebutted the accusations in the first instance; but it has turned out lucky for him, as it has afforded him a great triumph and his adversaries an equally great mortification. It is now time for the Tories to give up attacking him—that is, making him their grand political butt. They do not lower him; on the contrary, they raise his importance everywhere, and make his sway in Ireland more absolute. They are abominably sulky at this result of the Committee, which, however, was fairly constituted and unanimous in its decision. I must say I never expected they would make out much of a case. Yesterday I dined with Ben Stanley in Downing Street, and met Lytton Bulwer and Fonblanque, the latter a very agreeable man.

[2] [The proceedings of the Committee on the Carlow election are here referred to. A Mr. Raphael had been returned for Carlow, chiefly by the influence of O’Connell. He was unseated on petition, and it was supposed that the evidence taken by the Committee would incriminate O’Connell, but the reverse was the case. O’Connell was wholly acquitted of any illegal or improper practices.]

May 2nd, 1836

Many weeks without a single line. I have been at Newmarket, and have known nothing of any sort or kind. All seems quieter in the political world than for a long time past. There was a meeting of Peers at Apsley House a week or ten days ago, to consider the course they should adopt about the Corporation Bill. After the discussion Alvanley rose and asked the Duke if there would be any more meetings. He said he was not aware that there would be, when Alvanley said that he was of opinion that the majority of the House of Lords, while dealing with the Government measures, were LORD ALVANLEY’S PLAN FOR IRELAND. bound to give notice to the country of the measures of relief that they were themselves prepared to offer to Ireland, that in his opinion the only real relief that could be given was some system of poor law, and the payment of the Catholic clergy, bringing that body under the control of the Government, and making it penal to draw contributions from their flocks, and that he trusted their Lordships would be prepared to go so far. He describes the effect of this suggestion to have been most ludicrous. The Duke of Newcastle, who sat by him, was ready to bounce off his chair; all sorts of indistinct noises, hems, grunts, and coughs of every variety of modulation and expressive intonation were heard, but no answer and no remark. He told me that he had intended on Tuesday last to repeat the same thing in the House of Lords, and asked me to go down and hear him, but they would not allow him. The Duke said it was out of the question, and overruled him. I am very sorry he did not, for these are the true remedies, and I wish to see them put forth, and a beginning made of bringing such principles into action; but the Duke is not the man to let others have the credit of such measures. I expect to see the day when he will bring them forward himself; it is a pig not yet fit for killing, and he will not let anybody stick it but himself.

May 11th, 1836

Great talk about the adjournment of Parliament on the 20th, and about Melbourne’s affair with Mrs. Norton, which latter, if it is not quashed, will be inconvenient. John Bull fancies himself vastly moral, and the Court is mighty prudish, and between them our off-hand Premier will find himself in a ticklish position. He has been served with notices, but people rather doubt the action coming on. I asked the Duke of Wellington a night or two ago what he had heard of it, and what he thought would be the result. He said he had only heard what everybody said, and that nothing would result. I said, ‘Would Melbourne resign?’ ‘O Lord, no! Resign? Not a bit of it. I tell you all these things are a nine-days’ wonder; it can’t come into court before Parliament is up. People will have done talking of it before that happens; it will all blow over, and won’t signify a straw.’ So spoke his Grace. I doubt not prime ministers, ex and in, have a fellow-feeling and sympathy for each other, and like to lay down the principle of such things not mattering. I hope, however, that it will blow over, for it would really be very inconvenient and very mischievous. The Tories would fall on the individual from political violence, the Radicals on his class or order from hatred to the aristocracy. I believe the adjournment is principally on account of the affairs of Canada, regarding which the Government is in a difficulty that appears inextricable. I have heard a great deal on the subject, enough to show the magnitude of the embarrassment, but not enough to describe the state of things.

May 25th, 1836

The Epsom races being over, which always absorb every other interest, I have leisure to turn my mind to other things. This year there has been a miserable catastrophe. Berkeley Craven deliberately shot himself after losing more than he could pay. It is the first instance of a man of rank and station in society making such an exit. He had originally a large landed estate, strictly entailed, got into difficulties, was obliged to go abroad, compromised with his creditors and returned, fell into fresh difficulties, involved himself inextricably in betting, and went on with a determination to shoot himself if his speculations failed, and so he did. He was very popular, had been extremely handsome in his youth, and was a fellow of infinite pleasantry and good-humour.

Lord Melbourne’s affair after all is likely to come before a court of law. He is very much annoyed at it, and so are his relations, but nobody expects him to resign. The Low Tories, the herd, exult at this misfortune, and find a motive for petty political gratification in it, but not so the Duke of Wellington or any of them who are above the miserable feelings of party spite. I am sorry for it, because it is a bad thing to see men in high places dragged through the mire.