COLLAPSE OF THE ATTACK
House of Commons, 21st May 1858.
The Chancellor of the Exchequer with his humble duty to your Majesty.
The fullest House; it is said 620 Members present; it was supposed we should have divided at three o'clock in the morning; Mr Gladstone was to have spoken for the Government at half-past ten—very great excitement—when there occurred a scene perhaps unprecedented in Parliament.
One after another, perhaps twenty Members, on the Opposition benches, rising and entreating Mr Cardwell to withdraw his Resolution. After some time, silence on the Government benches, Mr Cardwell went to Lord John Russell, then to Lord Palmerston, then to Lord John Russell again, then returned to Lord Palmerston, and retired with him.
What are called the interpellations continued, when suddenly Lord Palmerston reappeared; embarrassed, with a faint smile; addressed the House; and after various preluding, announced the withdrawal of the Motion of Censure.
A various Debate followed; the Chancellor of the Exchequer endeavouring, as far as regards Lord Canning, to fulfil your Majesty's wishes. It is impossible to estimate the importance of this unforeseen event to your Majesty's servants. It has strengthened them more than the most decided division in their favour, for it has revealed complete anarchy in the ranks of their opponents. With prudence and vigilance all must now go right.
The speech of Sir James Graham last night produced a very great effect. No report gives a fair idea of it. The great country gentleman, the broad views, the fine classical allusions, the happiest all omitted, the massy style, contrasted remarkably with Sir Richard Bethell.
Footnote 34: Lord Shaftesbury's Motion in the Lords had been lost by a majority of nine. In the Commons, Mr Cardwell was replied to in a brilliant speech by Sir Hugh Cairns, the Solicitor-General. The speeches of Sir James Graham, Mr Bright, and others, showed that the Opposition was disunited, and when it was understood that Mr Gladstone would support the Ministry, the Liberal attack collapsed. Mr Disraeli, deprived of the satisfaction of making an effective reply, subsequently compared the discomfiture of his opponents to an earthquake in Calabria or Peru. "There was," he said, in the course of a speech at Slough, "a rumbling murmur, a groan, a shriek, a sound of distant thunder. No one knew whether it came from the top or bottom of the House. There was a rent, a fissure in the ground, and then a village disappeared, then a tall tower toppled down, and the whole of the Opposition benches became one great dissolving view of anarchy."