“The same hour which brought this good-natured invitation brought also a demand for my latch-key of the private door of the General Post Office. The Postmaster-General has given up his own latch-key, and has required every one else to do the same. I am not sure that this is not a necessary precaution.”
Be this as it may, the safeguard was not long maintained, the latch-keys being quietly redistributed in the interregnum that followed Lord Hardwicke’s retirement, and never afterwards reclaimed.
The necessity for my appearing at Lord Hardwicke’s party in court dress led to a discovery, which, though somewhat annoying at the time, I can afford to laugh at now. Calling for correspondence which had taken place three or four years before with the Lord Chamberlain, and which, as I understood, for I had never seen the papers, regulated my official costume, I found that, while Colonel Maberly was placed in the third, I had been assigned to the fifth or lowest class, the Secretaries for Ireland and Scotland, my acknowledged inferiors in position, being placed in the fourth. I had no difficulty in deciding on the authorship of this arrangement, nor in conjecturing why, contrary to rule, the papers had been withheld. On my calling the Postmaster-General’s attention to the matter, he took it up warmly, expressing an opinion that I should be placed in the same class with Colonel Maberly, and directing me to prepare a minute accordingly, though, as formalities had to be gone through, the change could not be made in time for the dinner.[98] I suppose, however, Lord Hardwicke must have forgotten the matter. My own attention was soon absorbed in things of more importance; and nothing was done until the matter was set right of itself on my promotion to the sole secretaryship. I could not but admire at the dinner the discreet arrangement made by our host to prevent jealousy between Colonel Maberly and me, the former being placed at one end of the table, the latter at the other, while his lordship sat precisely in the middle.
To return to ordinary matters. Certainly my Post Office experience had never yet long run smooth, and the ripple soon came:—
“June 10th.—In a minute of Saturday last, on the Prussian treaty, which, I hope, is now finally settled, I mentioned, as I had done in former minutes, that I had seen Chevalier Bunsen on a point of difference. In confirming the minute, the Postmaster-General made an exception as regards my seeing Chevalier Bunsen, adding a direction that, in future, when any foreign minister came to the Post Office, he, the Postmaster-General, should be informed, with a view, as afterwards explained, of seeing the minister himself. Even if necessary—which it was not—neither the time, just as I had satisfactorily concluded a very difficult treaty, nor the manner, was well chosen. To-day, on inquiring how the Postmaster-General wished me to proceed when he was absent from the office, viz., whether I should delay the business or transact it myself, and report proceedings on his arrival, he expressed a desire that I should, in his absence, inform the ‘Chief Secretary,’ meaning Colonel Maberly, of the minister’s visit, so as to give him the option of the interview; an instruction which was particularly absurd, seeing that the very negotiation in question had been transferred to me [from Colonel Maberly]. . . . To this I replied that I should, of course, follow the Postmaster-General’s instructions as regards communicating with himself, but that I must decline informing Colonel Maberly, as my doing so would be equivalent to an acknowledgment of subordination to the latter. On this the Postmaster-General declared an intention of writing a minute, making my position really subordinate to Colonel Maberly’s, again using his favourite expression, ‘there cannot be two kings in Brentford’—that there must be a first authority, a second, and a third; that to have two equal authorities was contrary to his views of discipline, &c., &c. I acquiesced in the general proposition, but reminded him of Lord Clanricarde’s opinion, that it was desirable Colonel Maberly should be induced to retire; adding that, during the last few years Lord Clanricarde was in office, I was in effect the Chief Secretary; and suggesting that, if Colonel Maberly were retained, and it was necessary to place one above the other, the proper course would be to ascertain which of us was best qualified for the superior appointment, and to act accordingly. I said also that there would be no great difficulty in deciding the question of superiority, for that he would find, on referring to the minutes, that Lord Clanricarde was in the habit of requiring my opinion in nearly all Colonel Maberly’s difficult cases; and when, as frequently happened, we advised differently, in nine instances out of ten my advice was adopted, and Colonel Maberly’s rejected. As all this seemed to produce little effect, I proposed to defer the question for the present, and proceeded with the other business.”
Among the minutes which I submitted to him was one which, after reading it, he pronounced a “most masterly statement,” declaring his intention to act in accordance with its recommendation, and praising the minute on various grounds. My Journal thus continues:—
“On finding that he was so much delighted with it, I reverted to our conversation as to my position. . . . This appeared to take him aback, and he replied, ‘Well, well, I must write my minute;[99] but I don’t think I shall make you subordinate to Colonel Maberly, though I must have a difference. I don’t think you’ll object to what I intend; and, if you should, I sha’n’t be at all offended by your appealing to the First Lord of the Treasury.’”
The minute, accordingly, appeared in a very mitigated form, so that the main objection left in it was to the persistent designation of Colonel Maberly as Chief Secretary, a title unknown in the office, authorized by no warrant or other document, and sure to lead to further trouble.
For the present, however, I determined to let matters rest, as I came to the conclusion that further attempts would be useless, and very probably injurious.
I need not say that I scanned the political horizon[100] at this time with great interest:—