In 1843 Gladstone first became a Cabinet Minister.
“May 13, 1843.—A letter from Sir Robert Peel offering William a seat in the Cabinet, to succeed Lord Ripon as President of the Board of Trade. He went to Peel, having taken a short time for consideration, and came back to tell me there was a hitch, because of the Church question. I walked with him in Kensington Gardens. He was oppressed by the great anxiety to act rightly, he asked me to pray for him. How thankful I am to be joined to one whose mind is purity and integrity itself. If I have received joy in reading Peel’s letter, how much more ought I to feel in seeing the way he received it, in witnessing that tenderness of conscience which shrinks at the bare idea of any worldly gain lest it should in any way interfere with higher duties.
“May 15.—A consultation with Hope and Manning of some length. They persuaded him to go himself to Peel. He has accepted; God bless and prosper him in his new office. He has been very happy in his former place. May the increase of responsibility not injure his precious health. How I wish he could have a horse!”
In August Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone and the children went to Fasque on a visit to his father. From Glasgow to Fasque she travelled on the outside of the mail coach, a twelve hours’ drive, her first experience of such a mode of journeying, enjoying it immensely. When returning in October, prevented by bad weather from going by sea as they had intended from Dundee to London, they caught the midnight mail from Perth. Only one inside place was available, so Mrs. Gladstone elected to mount to the top with her husband, and so travelled all night, “cold and blowing a high wind.”
Some of the entries in the Journal for 1844 show that Mrs. Gladstone’s mind was turning towards the distress in London which, later on, she was to do so much to relieve. At dinner in March with the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch, her host talked to her of the misery existing in London, and she thought his conversation showed the interest and pains he took. At this period she often went to the House of Commons, and one night heard Shiel, “his style fluent and brilliant, but ranting, and the voice peculiarly discordant and unpleasant”; and on another, Lord Ashley on the Factory question.
On 4th April her son Stephen was born, “a plain baby, small eyes,” but a few months later she notes, “baby greatly improved.” In June she was present at a party at Buckingham Palace given for the Emperor of Russia,[70] “a grand-looking personage, his figure so striking, tall, and commanding, his manner remarkable, so very civil and courteous, friendly without losing his dignity. The form and manner struck me more than the face itself. But he has an expression that seems to look straight through one, something peculiarly awful in the eyes. The profile, however, is good, and combined with the figure there is something grand and noble. It was interesting to watch him and the Duke of Wellington talking together. When the Queen and the Emperor had finished with refreshments, the manner in which she took his arm, and his in giving it to her, was striking and graceful beyond description; the great inequality of their heights would never have been suspected, such was the grace and ease with which they walked off together.”
Mrs. Gladstone thoroughly enjoyed the continual meetings with interesting persons; she liked listening to the conversation of such men as Peel and Brougham, and was hugely delighted when after a concert at the Palace the Duke of Wellington insisted on escorting her husband and herself to their carriage. “I was fearful lest he should catch cold, there was such a draught; he merely placed his cocked hat upon his head. How characteristic is all he says, and the honesty and peculiar straightforwardness of his character.”
On 27th July 1845 a second daughter was born, Catherine Jessy, “a nice fat thing, with famous lungs to judge by her voice, the mouth so small with short upper lip, the hair darkish, very placid, and takes much notice for her age.”
There were some interesting dinners at Sir Robert Peel’s. One in March 1848 she thus describes:
“Anxiety and sorrow sat on many of the countenances assembled. There stood Guizot, with that piercing eye of fire, his whole appearance eagle-like, his countenance beaming with sagacity and a great intellect, in earnest conversation with Peel, full of gesture, and now and then his voice raised, as if bursting with feeling that would out. There were the poor Jarnacs, with full marks of sorrow for their King and Queen! The Princess Lieven; the Austrian Ambassador harassed afresh with the increasing troubles in Austria which so afflicted his wife as to make it impossible for her to be present. The party was relieved by Lord Aberdeen, Lord and Lady Mahon. I had some talk with Madame Jarnac. Her account of the poor Queen of France especially was touching, of the dangers and trials connected with their flight, of the sad deprivations to which they were subject, the terror of the poor Queen about her husband and then her children. Sir Robert Peel joined in our conversation; he views the state of Europe with much alarm. He had received private information respecting the Prince of Prussia (now at Bunsen’s), who is said to have broken his sword, and laid it with his spurs at the feet of the King of Prussia. Lady Peel looks so wonderfully young and pretty. I returned home excited with the evening we had passed with that remarkable party.”
Next year (1849) dining again at Sir Robert Peel’s, Peel talked to her after dinner. “I confess I had never known him so well before, for now his conversation turned on subjects which specially brought out feeling, his children and their education, Lady Lincoln, Mr. Goulburn’s trials and excellences. Speaking of his children he enlarged upon the satisfaction of having no permanent governess, liked his girls to travel with him, said it enlarged their minds, and a good deal more, showing that amidst all his great cares the domestic element was very near his heart.”