The state of things is most critical and curious. Everybody now acknowledges, and seems to admit, that changes must take place and are pending, but what with the King's flirtation with the Opposition, the strange absence and conduct of Canning at the House of Commons, the illness of Londonderry, and the death of Lady Liverpool, it is all loose and wild conjecture; my version is this—I have no hesitation in saying, from what I gather, that Lord Liverpool will not resign (the King has written him a most kind and considerate letter); that the King only plays a game with the Opposition from vexation and anger about Mr. Sumner's appointment, and a wish at the same time of keeping down a party for the Queen, but that he has no idea of changing his Government. That as soon as Lady Liverpool is buried and the Session is closed, a communication will be made to you, and that the Government will be strengthened by your accession. How and in what manner this will be arranged, in accordance with your feelings and views, I cannot pretend to say; but whenever that proposition is made, if you are afterwards to waive the accedence to a junction till you are enabled to satisfy the theories and calculations of your uncles, I am quite sure you might as well remain at Stowe. I have no hesitation in saying to you, that I think you would do well to make a sine quâ non of Charles Williams being of the Cabinet; but if beyond this he is to have all his difficulties of who shall fill the different offices, and how more or less the Government could be better classed, and if these difficulties are again to be weighed and reasoned on by your uncles, who sit in their libraries and fancy things and men are as they were twenty years ago, and forget we are under a new reign, and such a reign; and if above all, they fancy the Government is reduced to the state of giving you carte blanche, and that they cannot go on without your party, I am quite convinced they would not treat on these terms, and that they are prepared to go on, if they find such to be your feelings and line of conduct; I tell you this as my own opinion, and which I think I am bound to give you, knowing the situation in which you stand, and weighing well all these difficulties you have to contend against, and as they affect what I know to be the prevailing object of your mind to conciliate the junction.
The Opposition are whispering and cajoling about the King's conduct towards them, and I see are endeavouring to separate the Whigs from the Mountain; but they will be unable to do this while the Duke of Bedford, Lord Grey, Lord Lansdowne, &c. are at Carlton House, and Lords Tavistock, Fitzwilliam, Milton, Jersey, &c., are with the Queen on the same evening.
Lady Conyngham is the great link upon which this hangs, and the Opposition ladies are courting her to a degree and with success. The King goes to-day (if he is well enough) to the Cottage, for the Ascot week, and is to have his party, Lady C——, &c.
He is certainly very unwell, with a great degree of gout. He was in his bed on the day he dined with the Duke of Devonshire till he got up for the dinner, and went away at twelve. He sat nearly the whole evening on a couch with Lady C——, and the night before at Carlton House he did the same with her, attending very little to the children, and then dismissed his company at about eleven o'clock, to have a private supper with her. I cannot find that he spoke to Lord Grey on either of the evenings. Adieu.
Ever truly yours,
W. H. Fremantle.
MR. W. H. FREMANTLE TO THE MARQUIS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Stanhope Street, June 18, 1821.
My dear Lord,
I can have no idea that the Duke of Wellington speaks alone from his wishes, when he expressly told me that the chiefs of the Cabinet thought exactly as he did on the subject, and meant to act upon it. If the Chancellor, Lord Melville, and others, have counteracted this intention by stopping the arrangement with Canning, I cannot but think it must end in their quarrelling, for I am sure Lord Londonderry wishes for further strength in the House of Commons, and he will not be deterred in procuring it by the Chancellor's meddling, who does not suffer from this part of the Government weakness. However, a short time must disclose it. Lady Liverpool's body leaves town to-morrow to be buried at Hawkesbury; Lord Liverpool attends it, and sleeps on Wednesday night at Badminton (Duke of Beaufort's), very near the place; when he returns, which he does to Combe, on Thursday or Friday, he will of course resume business and communication with his colleagues. Lord Londonderry is better; possibly may come to the House of Commons to-day. There has been the devil to do with the Duke of Devonshire's dinner. The Spencers, indignant at not being asked, refused to go in the evening; she saying that she did presume to think that she was as much entitled to a family association as Mr. and Mrs. G. Lambe or Captain Clifford, and one must say with no little reason. He also wrote to Lady Jersey to beg her to send him an excuse, as he had reason to think her presence would be objectionable (this at the time he had invited Lady Tavistock, and who was actually there, having been with the Queen the night before); Lady Jersey is outrageous, but has written a most violent letter to the Duke; but is crying to everybody, saying she is abandoned by her friends and everybody; she was at Lady Londonderry's on Saturday, sobbing and bewailing to every soul, literally crying. Lady Conyngham carries it with the very highest hand. She met R. Smith (Lord Carrington's son) on the Friday morning, asked him if he was to be at the ball at Carlton House that evening. He answered, "No; he had not been honoured by an invitation;" to which she replied, "Oh, I'll take care of that;" and he received a card a few hours afterwards.