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Title: The Greville Memoirs, Part 2 (of 3), Volume 1 (of 3)

Author: Charles Greville

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Language: English

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The Greville Memoirs
(SECOND PART)

A JOURNAL OF THE REIGN

OF

QUEEN VICTORIA
FROM 1837 TO 1852

BY THE LATE

Charles C. F. Greville, Esq.
CLERK OF THE COUNCIL

IN THREE VOLUMES — VOL. I.

LONDON
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
1885

CONTENTS.
INDEX.

‘PLERAQUE EORUM, QUÆ RETULI QUÆQUE REFERAM,
PARVA FORSITAN ET LEVIA MEMORATU VIDERI, NON
NESCIUS SUM; SED NEMO ANNALES NOSTROS CUM
SCRIPTURA EORUM CONTENDERIT, QUI VETERES
POPULI ROMANI RES COMPOSUERE. INGENTIA ILLI
BELLA, EXPUGNATIONES URBIUM, FUSOS CAPTOSQUE
REGES, AUT, SI QUANDO AD INTERNA
PRÆVERTERENT, DISCORDIAS CONSULUM
ADVERSUM TRIBUNOS, AGRARIAS
FRUMENTARIASQUE LEGES, PLEBIS ET OPTIMATIUM
CERTAMINA, LIBERO EGRESSU MEMORABANT. NOBIS
IN ARTO ET INGLORIUS LABOR.... NON TAMEN SINE
USU FUERIT, INTROSPICERE ILLA, PRIMO ADSPECTU
LEVIA, EX QUIS MAGNARUM SÆPE RERUM MOTUS
ORIUNTUR.’
TACITUS, Ann. iv. cap. 32.

PREFACE
OF THE EDITOR

TO THE SECOND PART OF THIS JOURNAL.

When the first portion of the Memoirs of the late Mr. Charles Greville,
consisting of a Journal of the Reigns of King George IV. and King William
IV., was given to the world in the autumn of the year 1874, it was intimated
that the continuation of the work was reserved for future publication. Those
volumes included the record of events which Mr. Greville had noted in his
Diary from the year 1818 to the accession of Her Majesty Queen Victoria in
the year 1837, a period of nineteen years. As they were published in 1874,
an interval of thirty-seven years had elapsed between the latest event
recorded in them and the date at which they appeared. The reigns of George
IV. and William IV. already belonged to the history of the past, and
accordingly I did not conceive it to be my duty to suppress or qualify any of
the statements or opinions of the Author on public men or public events. I
am still of opinion that this was the right course for a person charged with
the publication of these manuscripts to pursue. I have seen it stated that the
first edition of these Journals contains passages which have been
suppressed in the later editions: but this is an error. The first edition
contained a good many mistakes, which were subsequently pointed out by
criticism, or discovered and corrected. Two or three sentences relating to
private individuals were omitted, but nothing which concerns public
personages or public events has been withdrawn.
Eight and forty years have now elapsed since the date at which the
narrative contained in the former volumes was suspended, and I am led by
several considerations to the opinion that the time has arrived when it may
be resumed. We are divided by a long interval from the administrations of
Lord Melbourne, Sir Robert Peel, and Lord John Russell, and, with a very
small number of exceptions, no one survives who sat in the Cabinets of

those statesmen. Nearly half a century has elapsed since the occurrence of
the events recorded in the earlier pages of these volumes, and in a few
months from the publication of them, the nation and the empire may
celebrate with just enthusiasm the jubilee of the reign of Queen Victoria.
Those who have had the good fortune to witness this long series of events,
and to take any part in them, may well desire to leave behind them some
record of a period, unexampled in the annals of Great Britain and of the
world for an almost unbroken continuance of progress, prosperity, liberty,
and peace. It is not too soon to glean in the records of the time those
fugitive impressions which will one day be the materials of history. To us,
veterans of the century, life is in the past, and we look back with unfading
interest on the generations that have passed away.
As far as I am myself concerned, I am desirous to complete, whilst I
am able, the task allotted to me by Mr. Greville in his last hours, which
indeed I regard as a sacred duty, since I know that in placing these Journals
in my hands his principal motive and intention was that they should not be
withheld from publication until the present interest in them had expired.
The advance of years reminds me that if this duty is to be performed at all
by me, it must not be indefinitely delayed, and if any strictures are passed
on the Editor of these volumes, I prefer to encounter them in my own
person rather than to leave the work in other hands and to the uncertainty of
the future.
If I turn to precedent and the example of other writers, it will be found
that the interval of time which has elapsed since the latest date included in
these volumes, embracing the period from 1837 to 1852, is considerably
greater than that which marked the publication of similar contributions to
political history[1]. At the head of these must be placed Bishop Burnet’s
‘History of His Own Time.’ Bishop Burnet had lived in confidential
relations with four Sovereigns and their Ministers, and it would be a
mistake to compare the position of Mr. Greville (who never filled any office
of a political nature, and who never lived in confidential intercourse with
the Court) with that of the bold adviser of Charles II. and James II., and the
trusted councillor of William and Mary. Bishop Burnet finished his history
of the reigns of Charles II. and James II. about the year 1704; that of
William and Queen Anne between 1710 and 1713. In 1714 he died. The
first folio containing the earlier reigns was published by his son in 1724; the

second in 1734, barely twenty years after the death of Queen Anne. Many
passages were, however, suppressed, and the text was not restored in its
integrity until the publication of the Oxford edition in the present century.
[1] To look back as far as the Memoirs of the fifteenth century, it may be
noted that the first edition of the Memoirs of Philippe de Comines, who had
lived in the confidential intimacy of King Louis XI. and King Charles VIII. of
France, was published in Paris in 1524, under a special privilege obtained for
that purpose. Louis XI. died in 1483, and his son Charles VIII. in 1498. Comines
himself died in 1511. These Memoirs, therefore, were published at a time when
many of the persons mentioned in them, and most of their immediate
descendants, were still alive.

Lord Clarendon died in 1674, and the first edition of his ‘History of
the Rebellion and the Civil Wars’ was published in 1702-4, with some
alterations and omissions, which were supplied by the publication of the
complete text in 1826.
Lord Chesterfield died in 1773, and his ‘Letters to his Son,’ a work
abounding in keen and sarcastic observations on his contemporaries, were
published in the following year, 1774.
Sir Nathaniel Wraxall’s ‘Memoirs,’ which contain the best account
extant of the debates at the time of the Coalition Ministry in 1783, and on
the Regency Question in 1788, were published in 1815, about thirty years
after those discussions.
But it is scarcely necessary to seek for remote precedents to justify the
publication of the materials of contemporary history. Our own time has
been fertile in great examples of it. For instance, the ‘Memoirs of Lord
Palmerston,’ by Lord Dalling and Mr. Evelyn Ashley, are full of
confidential correspondence on the secret discussions and resolutions of the
Cabinet. The ‘Journal of Lord Ellenborough,’ recently published by Lord
Colchester, contains the private record of a Cabinet Minister on the events
of the day and the characters of his colleagues. The more recent publication
of Lord Malmesbury’s ‘Autobiography,’ and of the Croker Papers, has made
public a large amount of correspondence and information of great interest,
with reference to the ministerial combinations and political transactions of
the present century. And above all, Her Majesty Queen Victoria, by placing
the papers of the late Prince Consort, and her own correspondence and
journals, in the hands of Sir Theodore Martin, for the purpose of composing

from the most authentic materials a full biography of that illustrious Prince,
has shown that, far from regarding with distrust or repugnance the records
of contemporary history, she has been graciously pleased to contribute to it
in the most ample manner by the publication of an immense mass of
documents relating to the interior of the Court, the intercourse of the
Sovereign with her Ministers, the character of foreign monarchs, the less
known transactions of her reign, and even the domestic incidents of her life.
No Sovereign ever courted more fully and more willingly the light of
publicity on a reign which needs no concealment or disguise.
It would be presumptuous to compare the Journals of an individual
who never held any important office in the State, and who derived his
knowledge of public affairs entirely from the intercourse of private
friendship, with the correspondence and private records of sovereigns,
ministers, and statesmen of the highest rank, which have been published
with their sanction or with that of their immediate successors. These
Journals advance no such pretension; but the production of so many
confidential documents of contemporary or recent history by such
personages may be fairly invoked to justify, à fortiori, the publication of
notes and memoranda of a humbler character.
The incidents and opinions which will be found in these volumes
derive their chief value from the fact that they are recorded by a bystander
and spectator, who was not, and did not aspire to be, an actor in the
occurrences he witnessed, but who lived on terms of intimacy with many of
the most active politicians of his times, in both the leading parties in the
State, although he strictly belonged to neither of them, and was wholly
indifferent to mere party interests.
Mr. Greville himself, in communicating a portion of his manuscripts to
one of his friends, wrote of them in the following terms:—

You will find the greater part political, not often narrative;
mostly allusions and comments on passing events, the details of
which were not notorious and accessible; some miscellanea of a
different description, personal, social, official; you will find
public characters freely, flippantly perhaps, and frequently very
severely dealt with; in some cases you will be surprised to see

my opinions of certain men, some of whom, in many respects, I
may perhaps think differently of now. Gibbon said of certain
Pagan philosophers, that ‘their lives were spent in the pursuit of
truth and the practice of virtue.’ I cannot boast of having passed
my life in the practice of virtue, but I may venture to say that I
have always pursued truth; and you will see evidence of the
efforts I have made to get at it, and to sum up conflicting
statements of facts with a sort of judicial impartiality.

But although I am of opinion that the time has arrived when a further
portion of these Journals may without impropriety be published, yet I am
sensible that as the narrative draws nearer to the present time, and touches
events occurring during the reign of the Sovereign who still happily
occupies the throne, much more reticence is required of an Editor than he
felt in speaking of the two last reigns, which belong altogether to past
history. There were in the records of those reigns topics of scandal and
topics of ridicule, already familiar to the world, which cast a shadow over
those pages, and the more so as they were true. In narrating the earlier
passages of the reign of Queen Victoria, no such incidents occur. The Court
was pure; the persons of the Sovereign and her Consort profoundly
respected. The monarchy itself has been strengthened in the last forty-eight
years by a strict adherence to the principles of moral dignity and
constitutional government. Nothing is to be found in any part of these
Journals to impugn that salutary impression; and they will afford to future
generations no unworthy picture of those who have played the most
conspicuous part in the last half century.
Nevertheless, the delicacy and caution which ought to be observed in
recording the language and the actions of eminent persons, some of whom
are still alive, appear to me to prescribe the omission, at the present time, of
some passages that may more fitly be published hereafter. Accordingly, I
have exercised to some extent the discretionary powers entrusted to me by
the Author with these manuscripts; and I have withheld from publication
details which appeared to be of a strictly confidential character, or which
related the conversations of living persons. In this respect I have again
followed the example set by the illustrious precedents to which I have
already referred. Lord Clarendon’s ‘History of the Great Rebellion,’ Bishop
Burnet’s ‘History of His Own Time,’ the Duc de Saint-Simon’s ‘Memoirs,’

were all first published with large omissions from the text; and it is only in
our own age—one or two centuries after the death of the writers—that these
works have been made known to the world in their integrity from the
original manuscripts. I know not if these Journals are destined to so long a
life; they certainly do not lay claim to so great and lasting an historical and
literary fame; but it is probable they will be read and referred to hereafter as
a portion of the materials of history of England in this century.
The alternative lay between the entire suppression of the work for an
indefinite period, and the publication of by far the larger portion of it with
the omission of a few passages which touched too nearly on our
contemporaries. Upon the whole, the latter course appears to me the most
consistent with the duty I accepted from the Author, and which I owe to the
public. It must not be supposed, however, that the passages which are
omitted in this edition contain anything which it would be thought
discreditable for the Author to have written or for the Editor to publish, or
that they are of considerable extent or importance. These passages are
simply withheld at the present time from motives of delicacy to persons still
alive, or to their immediate descendants. I adhere to the opinion previously
expressed by me, that the public conduct of those who, by their station or
their offices must be regarded as public characters, needs no reticence or
concealment.
An observation occurs in one of the later volumes of these Journals
(which had previously escaped my notice) in which the Author remarks that
much that he has written appears to him to be extremely dull, and that to
avoid dullness the manuscript should be carefully revised before it is made
public. I have not the same dread of dullness which affected Mr. Greville. A
passage may be found to contain something of interest hereafter, though it is
not amusing, and at the worst the reader can pass it by. Nor do I attach
importance to the amusement the public may derive from this work. The
volumes now published may be less attractive to some readers than those
which preceded them, for they relate to less dissipated and distracted times;
but they are, I think, more instructive because they are marked by a deeper
insight into political history.
In conclusion, I may remark that the present publication embraces a
period of fourteen years, extending from the accession of Her Majesty

Queen Victoria in 1837 to the coup d’état of Napoleon III. in 1851. The
latest events recorded in these pages are separated from us by an interval of
about thirty-four years. The occurrences which took place after the close of
1851, the subsequent establishment of the Imperial power in France, the
formation of the Cabinet of Lord Aberdeen, followed in 1853 by the
Crimean War, mark an important epoch in the history of this country and of
Europe. I have therefore thought that this date is the appropriate conclusion
of this portion of the work. Mr. Greville continued his Journal for nine years
more, until the close of 1860, though in his later years he was less
conversant with public affairs than he had been in the more active period of
his life. Should life and health be vouchsafed to me, I shall endeavour to
complete the task he confided to my care by the publication of one or two
concluding volumes at no distant period.
HENRY REEVE.

⁂ The notes in brackets are by the Editor, those without brackets by
the Author.

CORRECTIONS
The following inaccuracies have been remarked whilst these sheets
were passing through the press:—
Vol. ii, p. 37, the Duke of Wellington sate in Sir Robert Peel’s Cabinet
of 1841 without office. Sir E. Knatchbull was Paymaster-General with a
seat in the Cabinet.
Vol. ii, p. 60, line 18, for Emerson Tennent read Tennant.
Vol. ii, p. 72, for Sir George Grey in the text and note read Sir Charles
Grey.
Vol. ii, p. 113, the Rev. William Capel was Vicar, not Rector, of
Watford, and Rector of Raine.
Vol. ii, p. 126, last line but two, for any read my.
Vol. ii, p. 194, last two lines, for Moore O’Farrell read More
O’Ferrall.
Vol. ii, p. 372, the battles of Moodkee and Ferozeshah were fought in
December 1845, before, not after, the battle of Aliwal.
Vol. iii, p. 108, line 12, for Machale read MacHale.

Vol. iii, p. 218, note1, line 2, for Gotto read Goito.

Contents of the First Volume
CHAPTER I.

The New Reign — Character of William IV — Political Effects
of the King’s Death — Candidates for Office — Lord Durham
— The King’s Funeral — The Elections — The Whigs and
O’Connell — First Impression of a Railroad — Lord Stanley at
Knowsley — The King of Hanover — Return to London —
Result of the Elections — Liberality of the Queen — Princess
Lieven’s Audiences — Conservative Reaction in the Counties
— The Queen and Lord Munster — State of Parties in the New
Parliament — The Corn Laws — The Poor Laws — Tory-
Radicals — Promise of the Queen’s Character — Her Self-
Possession — Queen Victoria and Queen Adelaide — The
Queen and Lord Melbourne — Mango wins the St. Leger —
Racing Reflexions — Death of Lord Egremont — The Court of
Victoria — Conservatism of the Whigs — Radical Discontent
— Irish Policy of the Government — Mr. Disraeli’s First Speech
— Lord Brougham’s Isolation — Radical Politics — Lord
Melbourne and Lord Brougham — The Canada Debates — The
Use of a Diary — Duke of Wellington on Canada — On his own
Despatches — On the Battle of Salamanca — King Ernest in
Hanover — English Manor Houses — Festivities at Belvoir
Castle — Life at Belvoir — Reflexions — Beaudesert — Death
of Lord Eldon.

CHAPTER II.

Debates on the Canada Bill — Moderation of the Duke of
Wellington — State of Canada — Lord Durham’s Position —
Weakness of the Government — Parallel of Hannibal and the
Duke of Wellington — The Ballot — Lord Brougham on the
Ballot — Position of the Government — Policy of Sir Robert
Peel — Death of Mr. Creevey — Knighthood of General Evans

— Lord Brougham’s Conversation — A Skirmish in the House
of Commons — Defeat of Government — Skirmish in the
House of Lords — Annoyance of Peel at these Proceedings —
Brougham’s Anti-Slavery Speech — Opposition Tactics —
Brougham on the Coolie Trade — Ministerial Success — Sir
Robert Peel’s Tactics — Composition of Parties — A Dinner at
Buckingham Palace — Men of Science — The Lord Mayor at a
Council — The Queen at a Levée — The Guiana Apprentices —
Small v. Attwood reversed — Character of the Queen —
Wilkie’s Picture of the ‘First Council’ — Small v. Attwood —
Immediate Emancipation — Birthday Reflexions — Lord
Charles Fitzroy turned out — Vote on Lord Durham’s Expenses
— Lord Durham’s Irritation — Wolff the Missionary —
Newmarket — The Coronation — Lord Brougham’s Reviews.

CHAPTER III.

A Ball at the Palace — Aspect of Foreign Affairs — Irish Tithe
Bill — Debate on Sir T. Acland’s Motion — Death of Prince
Talleyrand — Death and Character of Lady Harrowby —
Government defeated on Emancipation of Slaves — Dispute of
Mr. Handley and Lord Brougham — Dinner at Lambeth —
Arrangement of Irish Questions — Settlement of Irish Questions
— O’Connell declines the Rolls — Naval Intervention in Spain
— Duke of Wellington’s Moderation — Marshal Soult arrives
— Preparations for the Coronation of Queen Victoria — The
Wellington Statue — The Coronation — Coleridge and John
Sterling — Lord Durham’s Mission to Canada — Lord
Brougham contrasted with the Duke — Macaulay on his return
from India — Soult in London — Duke of Sussex quarrels with
Ministers — Lord Burghersh’s Opera — High Church Sermons
— Lord Palmerston and Mr. Urquhart — The Ecclesiastical
Discipline Bill — The Duke’s Despatches — Macaulay’s Plan
of Life — Lord Durham’s Canada Ordinance — Mr. Barnes —
Canada Indemnity Bill — Lord Durham’s Ordinance disallowed
— Irish Corporation Bill — Review of the Session

CHAPTER IV.

The Queen and Lord Melbourne — The Battersea Schools — A
Council at Windsor — A Humble Hero — Lord Durham’s
Resignation — Duke of Wellington’s Campaigns — The Grange
— Lord Durham’s Return — Death of Lord Sefton — Lord
Durham’s Arrival — His Reception in the Country — Position
of the Radicals — A Visit to Windsor Castle — Lord
Brougham’s ‘Letter to the Queen’ — Lord Durham repudiates
the Radicals — A Lecture at Battersea — Dinner at Holland
House — Curran and George Ponsonby — Prospect of the New
Year — The Petition of the Serjeants-at-Law — Reconciliation
with Lord Durham — Murder of Lord Norbury — The Corn
Laws attacked — Lord Palmerston and the ‘Portfolio’ — The
Serjeants’ Case — Brougham and Lyndhurst ‘done up’ —
Opening of the Session — Resignation of Lord Glenelg — State
of Parties — Lord Durham’s Report — Lord Glenelg’s
Retirement — Lord Normanby, Colonial Minister — Corn Law
Repeal — Sir Francis Bond Head — Gore House — Lady
Blessington

CHAPTER V.

Opening of the Session — Lady Flora Hastings — Bulwer’s
‘Richelieu’ — Changes at the Colonial Office — Attack on Lord
Normanby’s Irish Administration in the Lords — General
Aspect of Affairs — The ‘Morning Chronicle’ — Death of Lord
de Ros — Precarious Position of the Government — Views of
Lord John Russell — A doubtful Question — Conciliatory
Conversation with Sir James Graham — Attitude of the Whig
Party — Peel’s cold Reception of the Proposal — Result of the
Debate — Attitude of Lord John Russell — Language of the
Radical Party — Conciliation — Change of Feeling in the
Country — Duke of Newcastle dismissed from the Lord
Lieutenancy — Lord John Russell’s Letter — Jamaica Bill —
Defeat of the Jamaica Bill — Resignation of Ministers — The

Queen retains the Ladies of her Household — Conduct of the
Whigs — End of the Crisis — The Truth of the Story

CHAPTER VI.

The Whigs retain the Government — Motives of the Queen —
Decision of Ministers — Lord Brougham’s Excitement —
Ministerial Explanations — State of Affairs in Parliament —
Lord Brougham’s great Speech on the Crisis — Duke of
Wellington’s Wisdom and Moderation — Visit of the Grand
Duke Alexander — Macaulay returns to Parliament —
Disappointment of the Radicals — The Radicals appeased —
Visit to Holland House — Anecdotes of George Selwyn —
False Position of the Whigs — Downton Castle — Payne
Knight — Malvern — Troy House — Castles on the Wye —
Tintern Abbey — Bath — Salisbury Cathedral — Death of Lady
Flora Hastings — Violent Speech of the Duke — Conversation
with the Duke of Wellington — Lord Clarendon’s début in the
House of Lords — Lord Brougham attacks Lord Normanby —
His fantastic Conduct — Pauper School at Norwood

CHAPTER VII.

Review of the Session — Ministerial Changes — Effect of
Changes in the Government — A Greenwich Dinner — Dover
Dinner to the Duke of Wellington — A Toast from Ovid —
Decay of Tory Loyalty — Unpopularity of Government —
Brougham’s Letter to the Duke of Bedford — Character of John,
Duke of Bedford — Brougham at the Dover Dinner —
Brougham and Macaulay — The Duke’s Decline — Duke of
Wellington consulted on Indian and Spanish Affairs — Baron
Brunnow arrives in England — False Reports of Lord
Brougham’s Death — Insulting Speeches of the Tories —
Holland House — Lord Brougham and Lord Holland — The
Queen’s Marriage is announced — Remarkable Anecdote of the
Duke of Wellington — The Mayor of Newport at Windsor —
Ampthill — Lord John Russell’s Borough Magistrates — Lord
Clarendon’s Advice to his Colleagues — Prospects of the

Government — Opening of the Session — Duel of Mr.
Bradshaw and Mr. Horsman — Lord Lyndhurst’s View of
Affairs — Prince Albert’s Household — The Privilege Question
— Prince Albert’s Allowance — Precedence of Prince Albert —
Lord John Russell and Sir Robert Peel — Judgement on the
Newport Prisoners — A Vote of Want of Confidence moved —
The Newport Prisoners — Prince Albert’s Precedency — Sir
Robert Peel and his Party — Sir Robert Peel’s Speech and
Declaration — Precedence Question — The Queen’s Marriage
— Illness of the Duke of Wellington — The Precedence
Question settled — The Duke opposed to Peel on the Privilege
Question — Change in the Health of the Duke — Prince
Albert’s Name in the Liturgy — Success of Pamphlet on
Precedence — Judicial Committee Bill — Lord Dudley’s Letters
— Amendment of Judicial Committee — King’s Sons born
Privy Councillors, other Princes sworn — The Duke returns to
London — Lord Melbourne’s Opinion on Journals

CHAPTER VIII.

The ex-King of Westphalia — The Duke of Wellington at Court
— Failure of the Duke’s Memory — Dinner at Devonshire
House to Royalties — Government defeated on Irish
Registration Bill — The King of Hanover’s Apartments — Rank
of Foreign Ministers — The Duchess of Inverness — War with
China — Murder of Lord William Russell — Duke of
Wellington on the China War — Weakness of Government —
Duke of Wellington’s Conduct towards the Government — The
Queen shot at — Examination of the Culprit — Retrospect of
Affairs — Conciliatory Policy — Advantages of a Weak
Government — The Eastern Question — Lord Palmerston’s
Daring and Confidence — M. Guizot and Mr. Greville —
Pacific Views of Louis Philippe — M. Guizot’s Statement of the
Policy of France — Growing Alarm of Ministers — Alarm of
Prince Metternich — Lord John Russell disposed to resist
Palmerston — History of the Eastern Negotiation — A Blunder
of M. Guizot — Important Conversation with Guizot —

Conflict between Lord John Russell and Lord Palmerston —
Energetic Resolution of Lord John — Lord Palmerston holds out
— Conciliatory Proposals of France — Interview with Lord
Palmerston and Lord John

CHAPTER IX.

The Cabinet meets — The Government on the verge of
Dissolution — The Second Cabinet — Palmerston lowers his
Tone in the Cabinet — But continues to bully in the Press —
Taking of Beyrout — Deposition of Mehemet Ali — Lord John
acquiesces — Total Defeat of Peace Party — Lord John
Russell’s False Position — His Views — Lord Granville’s
Dissatisfaction — Further Attempts at Conciliation —
Prevarication of Lord Ponsonby — Newspaper Hostilities —
Discussion of the French Note of the 8th October — Guizot’s
Opinion of the Note of the 8th October — Louis Philippe’s
Influence on the Crisis — Summary of Events — Death of Lord
Holland — Lord Clarendon’s Regret for Lord Holland — M.
Guizot’s Intentions as to France — Effects of the Queen’s
Partiality for Melbourne — Resignation of Thiers — Bickerings
in the Ministry — Lord John Russell’s Dissatisfaction with Lord
Palmerston — Lord John resigns — Lord John demands the
Recall of Lord Ponsonby — Lord Palmerston defends Lord
Ponsonby — M. Guizot’s Policy — Conciliatory Propositions
fail — Attitude of Austria — Asperity of Lord Palmerston —
Operations in Syria — Success of Lord Palmerston and his
Policy — Baron Mounier’s Mission to London — Birth of the
Princess Royal — Results of the Success of Lord Palmerston’s
Measures — The Tories divided in Opinion as to the Treaty —
Retrospect of the Year — Lord Holland

CHAPTER X.

Successes in India, China, and Syria — The Hereditary Pashalik
of Egypt — Lord Palmerston’s Hostility to France — Lord
Palmerston and the Tories — His extraordinary Position — A
Communication from M. Guizot — Death of the Duchess of

Cannizzaro — Her History — Dinner with Lady Holland —
Macaulay’s Conversation — Opening of the Session — A
Sheriffs’ Dinner — Hullah’s Music Lecture — Tory Successes
— Duke of Wellington ill — Irish Registration Bill — Opposed
by the Conservatives — Conservative Government of Ireland —
Petulance of Lord Palmerston — Double Dealing of Lord
Palmerston — Ill Temper of the French — M. Dedel’s account
of the State of Affairs — M. Dedel’s account corrected —
Termination of the Disputes with France — Bad News from
China — Hostility of the United States — The Sultan’s Hatti-
sherif — The Hatti-sherif disapproved by some Ministers —
Peel’s Liberality — The Hatti-sherif disavowed — The Bishop
of Exeter left in the lurch — Poor Law Amendment Bill — Lord
Granville’s Illness — Death of Mrs. Algernon Greville — Loss
of ‘The President’ — Government defeated — China Troubles
— Danger of the Government

APPENDIX.
The Royal Precedency Question

A JOURNAL
OF THE

REIGN OF QUEEN VICTORIA

FROM 1837 TO 1852.

CHAPTER I.
The New Reign — Character of William IV. — Political Effects
of the King’s Death — Candidates for Office — Lord Durham
— The King’s Funeral — The Elections — The Whigs and
O’Connell — First Impression of a Railroad — Lord Stanley at
Knowsley — The King of Hanover — Return to London —
Result of the Elections — Liberality of the Queen — Princess
Lieven’s Audiences — Conservative Reaction in the Counties
— The Queen and Lord Munster — State of Parties in the New
Parliament — The Corn Laws — The Poor Laws — Tory-
Radicals — Promise of the Queen’s Character — Her Self-
Possession — Queen Victoria and Queen Adelaide — The
Queen and Lord Melbourne — Mango wins the St. Leger —
Racing Reflexions — Death of Lord Egremont — The Court of
Victoria — Conservatism of the Whigs — Radical Discontent
— Irish Policy of the Government — Mr. Disraeli’s First Speech
— Lord Brougham’s Isolation — Radical Politics — Lord
Melbourne and Lord Brougham — The Canada Debates — The
Use of a Diary — Duke of Wellington on Canada — On his own
Despatches — On the Battle of Salamanca — King Ernest in
Hanover — English Manor Houses — Festivities at Belvoir
Castle — Life at Belvoir — Reflexions — Beaudesert — Death
of Lord Eldon.

June 25th, 1837
I remember when George IV. died, seven years ago, having been struck
by the small apparent sensation that his death created. There was, however,
at that time a great deal of bustle and considerable excitement, which were
caused by the activity of the new Court, and the eccentricities of the King;

but in the present instance the Crown has been transferred to the head of the
new Queen with a tranquillity which is curious and edifying. The first
interest and curiosity to see the young Queen and observe her behaviour
having passed off, there appears nothing more to do or to think about; there
are no changes, and there is no talk of change. Her Majesty has continued
quietly at Kensington, where she transacts business with her Ministers, and
everything goes on as if she had been on the throne six years instead of six
days. Animated panegyrics were pronounced upon the late King in both
Houses of Parliament by those who had served him; and Peel repeated in
the House of Commons, in more set phrases, the expressions of his
admiration of the conduct of the Queen on her first public appearance,
which he uttered to me when I saw him after the Council on Tuesday.
Melbourne’s funeral oration over William IV. was very effective because it
was natural and hearty, and as warm as it could be without being
exaggerated. He made the most of the virtues the King undoubtedly
possessed, and passed lightly over his defects.
King William IV., if he had been born in a private station, would have
passed unobserved through life like millions of other men, looked upon as
possessing a good-natured and affectionate disposition, but without either
elevation of mind or brightness of intellect. During many years of his life
the Duke of Clarence was an obscure individual, without consideration,
moving in a limited circle, and altogether forgotten by the great world. He
resided at Bushey with Mrs. Jordan, and brought up his numerous children
with very tender affection: with them, and for them, he seemed entirely to
live. The cause of his separation from Mrs. Jordan has not been explained,
but it probably arose from his desire to better his condition by a good
marriage, and he wanted to marry Miss Wykeham, a half-crazy woman of
large fortune, on whom he afterwards conferred a Peerage. George IV., I
believe, put a spoke in that wheel, fortunately for the Duke as well as for
the country. The death of the Princess Charlotte opened to CHARACTER OF
WILLIAM IV. him a new prospect, and the lack of royal progeny made his
marriage as desirable an event to the public as it was convenient to himself.
The subsequent death of the Duke of York, which made him heir to the
throne, at once exalted him into a personage of political importance, and
when the great Tory schism took place, upon the death of Lord Liverpool,
Mr. Canning thought the Duke of Clarence’s appointment to the office of

Lord High Admiral would strengthen his Government, and at the same time
relieve him from some of the difficulties which beset him; and he
accordingly prevailed upon the King to revive the office in his person. Soon
after the Duke of Wellington’s elevation he found it necessary to remove the
Duke of Clarence, and it is an excellent trait in the character of the latter
that, notwithstanding his vexation at the time, which was very great, he
harboured no resentment against the Duke of Wellington, and never seems
to have hesitated about retaining him as his Minister when he came to the
throne. His exaltation (for the moment) completely turned his head, but as
his situation got familiar to him he became more composed and rational, if
not more dignified in his behaviour. The moral and intellectual qualities of
the King, however insignificant in themselves, now became, from their
unavoidable influence, an object of great interest and importance, and in the
early part of his reign he acquired no small share of popularity. People liked
a King whose habits presented such a striking contrast to those of his
predecessor. His attention to business, his frank and good-humoured
familiarity, and his general hospitality, were advantageously compared with
the luxurious and selfish indolence and habits of seclusion in the society of
dull and grasping favourites which characterised the former reign.
The King seemed to be more occupied with the pleasing novelty of his
situation, providing for his children, and actively discharging the duties of
his high function, than in giving effect to any political opinions; and he took
a correct view of his constitutional obligations, for although he continued
his confidence to the Duke of Wellington unabated to the last, he transferred
it as entirely to Lord Grey when the Whigs came in. He went on with his
second Ministry as cordially as he had done with his first, nor does it appear
that he took fright at their extensive plans of reform when they were first
promulgated. He was probably bit by the popularity which the Reform Bill
procured him, and it was not until he had gone too far to recede with safety
that he was roused from his state of measureless content and unthinking
security. The roar of the mighty conflict which the Reform Bill brought on
filled him with dismay, and very soon with detestation of the principles of
which he had unwittingly permitted himself to be the professor and the
promoter; and as these feelings and apprehensions were continually
stimulated by almost all the members of his family, legitimate and
illegitimate, they led him into those unavailing struggles which embroiled

him with his Ministers, rendered him obnoxious to the Liberal party,
compromised the dignity of the Crown and the tranquillity of the country,
and grievously embittered the latter years of his life. But although King
William was sometimes weak, sometimes obstinate, and miserably deficient
in penetration and judgement, he was manly, sincere, honest, and
straightforward. The most painful moment of his life, and the greatest
humiliation to which a king ever submitted, must have been when he again
received the Whig Ministers in 1835; but it is to the credit of Lord
Melbourne, as well as of the King, that their subsequent personal
intercourse was not disagreeable to either, and greatly to the King’s honour
that he has never been accused or suspected of any underhand or indirect
proceeding for the purpose of emancipating himself from a thraldom so
galling. Of political dexterity and artifice he was altogether incapable, and
although, if he had been false, able, and artful, he might have caused more
perplexity to his Whig Government and have played a better party game, it
is perhaps fortunate for the country, and certainly happy for his own
reputation, that his virtues thus predominated over his talents. The most
remarkable foible of the late King was his passion for speechifying, and I
POLITICAL EFFECTS OF THE KING’S DEATH. have recorded some of his curious
exhibitions in this way. He had considerable facility in expressing himself,
but what he said was generally useless or improper. He never received the
homage of a Bishop without giving him a lecture; and the custom he
introduced of giving toasts and making speeches at all his dinners was more
suitable to a tavern than to a palace. He was totally deficient in dignity or
refinement, and neither his elevation to the throne nor his association with
people of the most distinguished manners could give him any tincture of the
one or the other. Though a good-natured and amiable man, he was
passionate and hasty, and thus he was led into those bickerings and quarrels
with the Duchess of Kent and with his own children, which were a
perpetual source of discomfort or disgrace to him, and all of which might
have been avoided by a more consistent course of firmness and temper on
his part. His sons generally behaved to him with great insolence and
ingratitude, except Adolphus. Of the daughters I know nothing.
The various political hopes, fears, and expectations which his death
has raised may be very shortly summed up. Nobody can deny that it has
given the Whig Government a great advantage over the Tories. Hitherto the

Government have been working against the stream, inasmuch as they had
the influence of the Crown running dead against them; the tide has now
turned in their favour, and to a certain degree they will be able to convert
the Tory principle to their own advantage. The object of the Whigs is to
remain in office, to put down the Radicals and Radicalism, and go on
gradually and safely reforming; above all to proceed as fast as the
innumerable difficulties which impede their course will let them, in
bringing Ireland into a state of quiet and contentment, and to pave the way
for some definite settlement of the great questions which distract that
country. This I believe to be the object of Lord Melbourne and Lord John
Russell, but at the same time they have colleagues and supporters who have
more extensive and less moderate views, and who would like to see the
Government more cordially allied to the Radicals than it is, and who are so
animated against the Tories that they would do anything to prevent their
return to power.[1]
[1] [A list of Lord Melbourne’s second Administration will be found in the
first part of this work, vol. iii. p. 256. It had undergone no change since 1835,
except that the Great Seal, which had been put in commission, was now held by
Lord Cottenham.]

The great body of the Tories, on the other hand, are thirsting for office:
they are, or pretend to be, greatly alarmed at the Radical tendencies of the
Government, but they are well aware that in the actual state of the House of
Commons they have the power of keeping the Government in check and of
defeating every Radical scheme while in opposition, but that it would be
dangerous to attempt to turn them out and take their places. So far from
being satisfied with this position of exceeding strength and utility, they are
chafing and fuming that they can’t get in, and would encounter all the
hazards of defeat for the slightest chance of victory. It is only the prudent
reserve of Peel (in which Stanley and Graham probably join) that restrains
the impatience of the party within moderate bounds. The Radicals are few
in number, and their influence is very low; they are angry with the
Government for not making greater concessions to them, but as they still
think there is a better chance of their views being promoted by the Whigs
remaining in, they continue to vote with them in cases of need, though there
are some of them who would prefer the dissolution of the Ministry and war
with a Tory Government rather than the present imperfect alliance which
subsists between themselves and the Whigs. The Whigs then expect to gain

by the new elections and to obtain an accession of strength to their
Government. They think the popularity of a new reign, and the partial
neutrality of the Tory principle, will be of material advantage to their cause.
The Tories, though they maintain that they shall not lose at the elections,
evidently feel that they take the field under a great disadvantage, and do not
deny that the King’s death has been a heavy blow to them as a party.

June 29th, 1837
All the accounts continue to report well of LORD DURHAM. the young
Queen, of her quickness, sense and discretion, and the remarkable facility
with which she has slid into her high station and discharges its duties. The
Duchess of Kent never appears at Kensington, where the Queen occupies a
separate range of apartments, and her influence is very silently exercised, if
at all. The town is rife with reports of changes and appointments, some very
natural and others very absurd; all agree that the power vested in
Melbourne’s hands is unbounded, and that (as far as Court appointments are
concerned) he uses it with propriety. The great topic of interest is the
question of Lord Hill’s removal,[2] which the Radicals and violent Whigs
have been long driving at, but to which it is believed Melbourne is himself
adverse. So Lord Stanley told me the other day as his belief; and when I
said that though this might be so, it was doubtful how far he would be
induced to fight the battle in his own Cabinet if it was mooted there, he said
that from what he heard, he thought Melbourne was lord and master in his
own Cabinet.
[2] [Lord Hill held the office of Commander-in-Chief from 1828 till 1842,
when he resigned it.]

The eternal question in everybody’s mouth is what is Lord Durham to
have, or if it is indispensable that he should have anything. When Durham
left England, he was the elected chief of the Radicals, and he was paving
the way to future Court favour through a strict alliance with the Duchess of
Kent and Sir John Conroy. At St. Petersburg his language was always
moderate; now that he is returned, the Radicals, still regarding him as their
chief, look anxiously to his introduction into the Cabinet. Charles Buller,
whom I met the other day, said, in reply to my asking him if Government

would gain at the elections, ‘I think they will gain anyhow, but if they are
wise they will gain largely.’ I said, ‘I wonder what you call being wise?’ He
said, ‘Take in Lord Durham.’ But they want Durham to be taken in as a
pledge of the disposition of the Government to adopt their principles,[3]
whereas Melbourne will receive him upon no such terms; and if Durham
takes office, he must subscribe to the moderate principles upon which both
Melbourne and John Russell seem disposed to act. After all, it appears to
me that a mighty fuss is made about Durham without any sufficient reason,
that his political influence is small, his power less, and that it is a matter of
great indifference whether he is in office or out.
[3] After this was written, a letter of Durham’s appeared couched in vague
but conservative language, and without any allusion to the Ballot or the Radical
desiderata.

July 9th, 1837
Yesterday I went to the late King’s funeral, who was buried with just
the same ceremonial as his predecessor this time seven years. It is a
wretched mockery after all, and if I were king, the first thing I would do
should be to provide for being committed to the earth with more decency
and less pomp. A host of persons of all ranks and stations were congregated,
who ‘loitered through the lofty halls,’ chattering and laughing, and with
nothing of woe about them but the garb. I saw two men in an animated
conversation, and one laughing heartily at the very foot of the coffin as it
was lying in state. The chamber of death in which the body lay, all hung
with black and adorned with scutcheons and every sort of funereal finery,
was like a scene in a play, and as we passed through it and looked at the
scaffolding and rough work behind, it was just like going behind the scenes
of a theatre. A soldier’s funeral, which I met in the morning—the plain
coffin slowly borne along by his comrades, with the cap and helmet and
sword of the dead placed upon it—was more impressive, more decent, more
affecting than all this pomp with pasteboard crowns, and heralds
scampering about, while idleness and indifference were gazing or gossiping
round about the royal remains. I would rather be quietly consigned to the
grave by a few who cared for me (if any such there might be) than be the
object of all this parade and extravagance. The procession moving slowly

through close ranks of Horse and Foot Guards holding tapers and torches in
their hands, whilst at intervals the bands played a dead march, had,
however, a very imposing effect. The service was intolerably long and
tedious, and THE ELECTIONS. miserably read by the Dean of Windsor. The
Queen Dowager, with the King’s daughters and her ladies, were in the
Royal Closet, and the FitzClarences in the one adjoining. At twelve o’clock
she was to depart for Bushey, and a bitter moment it must have been when
she quitted for ever the Castle where she had spent seven years of
prosperous and happy splendour.
We continue to hear of the young Queen’s admirable behaviour, but all
other subjects are swallowed up in the interest of the approaching elections.
There will be more contests than ever were known, and it is amusing to see
both parties endeavouring to avail themselves of the Queen’s name, the
Tories affecting to consider her as a prisoner in the hands of the Whigs, and
the Whigs boasting of the cordiality and warmth of her sentiments in their
favour. The Whigs have the best of this, as they have some evidence to
show in support of their assertions, and the probability really is that she is
well enough contented with them, as they naturally take care she should be.
Of the probable changes, one of the most important is the defeat of Sir
James Graham in Cumberland, an event which the Whigs hail with extreme
satisfaction, for they hate him rancorously. I am under personal obligations
to Graham, and therefore regret that this feeling exists; but it is not
unnatural, and his political conduct is certainly neither creditable nor
consistent. He is now little better than a Tory, a very high Churchman, and
one of the least liberal of the Conservative leaders. In Lord Grey’s
Government he was one of the most violent, and for going to greater
lengths than the majority of his colleagues. When the Reform Bill was
concocted by a committee consisting of John Russell, Duncannon, Durham,
and Graham, Graham earnestly advocated the Ballot, and Lord Durham
says he has in his possession many letters of Graham’s, in which he presses
for a larger measure of reform than they actually brought forward. In his
address he says he has not changed, and talks of ‘having belonged to the
Whig Government before they had made the compact by which they are
now bound to O’Connell.’ Tavistock[4] said to me yesterday that this was
too bad, because he knew very well that the only understanding the
Government had with O’Connell was one of mutual support in the Irish

elections, the same which existed when he was in office; and, moreover,
that at that time the majority of the Cabinet (Graham included) wanted to
confer office upon O’Connell, and that they were only induced to forego
that design by the remonstrances of Lord Lansdowne and the Duke of
Richmond, who insisted upon a further probation before they did so.
O’Connell got nothing, and soon after took to agitating and making violent
speeches. This exasperated Lord Grey, who, in his turn, denounced him in
the King’s Speech, and hence that feud between O’Connell and the Whigs,
which was only terminated by the attempt of the Tories to retake office in
1835. This led to the imperfect alliance between them, half denied by the
Whigs, which exposed the Government to as much obloquy as if they had
concluded an open and avowed alliance with him, and perhaps to greater
inconvenience. It was a great blunder not securing O’Connell in the first
instance, and certainly a curious thing that such men as Lord Lansdowne,
and still more the Duke of Richmond, should have influenced so important
a matter and have overborne the opinions of the whole Cabinet. After all
this, it is not extraordinary that his old associates should be disgusted at
seeing Graham become a Tory champion, and at hearing him more bitter
against them than any man on the Opposition benches. The Tories, on the
other hand, rejoice in him, and his bigotry about all Church matters cancels
in their minds all his former Liberalism in that and every other respect.
[4] [Francis, Marquis of Tavistock, afterwards seventh Duke of Bedford;
born 12th May 1788, died 14th May 1861. He was one of Mr. Greville’s most
intimate friends. They agreed in the main in politics, and had a common
amusement—the turf. Lord Tavistock preferred a life of retirement, and he
refused office, but he kept up an enormous correspondence with the leading
statesmen of the day. He was consulted by them on all occasions, and not
infrequently by the Queen, and he exercised a considerable, though inostensible,
influence on public affairs.]

Knowsley, July 18th, 1837
Tired of doing nothing in London, FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF A RAILROAD. and of
hearing about the Queen, and the elections, I resolved to vary the scene and
run down here to see the Birmingham railroad, Liverpool, and Liverpool
races. So I started at five o’clock on Sunday evening, got to Birmingham at
half-past five on Monday morning, and got upon the railroad at half-past

seven. Nothing can be more comfortable than the vehicle in which I was
put, a sort of chariot with two places, and there is nothing disagreeable
about it but the occasional whiffs of stinking air which it is impossible to
exclude altogether. The first sensation is a slight degree of nervousness and
a feeling of being run away with, but a sense of security soon supervenes,
and the velocity is delightful. Town after town, one park and château after
another are left behind with the rapid variety of a moving panorama, and
the continual bustle and animation of the changes and stoppages make the
journey very entertaining. The train was very long, and heads were
continually popping out of the several carriages, attracted by well-known
voices, and then came the greetings and exclamations of surprise, the
‘Where are you going?’ and ‘How on earth came you here?’ Considering
the novelty of its establishment, there is very little embarrassment, and it
certainly renders all other travelling irksome and tedious by comparison. It
was peculiarly gay at this time, because there was so much going on. There
were all sorts of people going to Liverpool races, barristers to the assizes,
and candidates to their several elections. The day was so wet that I could
not see the town of Liverpool.
This is a very large place, the house immense, with no good room in it
but the dining room. The country is generally flat, but there are fine trees
and thriving plantations, so that it is altogether sufficiently enjoyable. It is a
strange thing to see Stanley here; he is certainly the most natural character I
ever saw; he seems never to think of throwing a veil over any part of
himself; it is this straightforward energy which makes him so considerable a
person as he is. In London he is one of the great political leaders, and the
second orator in the House of Commons, and here he is a lively rattling
sportsman, apparently devoted to racing and rabbit-shooting, gay,
boisterous, almost rustic in his manners, without refinement, and if one did
not know what his powers are and what his position is, it would be next to
impossible to believe that the Stanley of Knowsley could be the Stanley of
the House of Commons.
Just before I left London, the Proclamation of the King of Hanover
appeared, by which he threw over the new Constitution. Lyndhurst told me
of it, before I had seen it, with many expressions of disappointment, and
complaining of his folly and of the bad effect it would produce here. The
Government papers have taken it up, though rather clumsily, for the purpose

of connecting this violent measure with the Tory party; but it is a great folly
in the Opposition, and in the journals belonging to them, not to reject at
once and peremptorily all connexion with the King of Hanover, and all
participation in, or approbation of, his measures. Lyndhurst told me that the
King had all along protested against this Constitution, and refused to sign or
be a party to it; that he contended it was illegal, inasmuch as the States by
which it had been enacted had been illegally convoked; that he was able to
do what he has done by his independence in point of finance, having a great
revenue from Crown lands. The late King was very anxious to give this up,
and to have a Civil List instead; but when this was proposed, the Duke of
Cumberland exerted his influence successfully to defeat the project, and it
was accordingly thrown out in the Senate (I think the Senate) by a small
majority. Though we have nothing to do with Hanover, this violence will,
no doubt, render him still more odious here than he was before, and it
would be an awful thing if the Crown were, by any accident, to devolve
upon him. The late King’s desire to effect this change affords an
indisputable proof of the sincerity of his constitutional principles, and it is
no small praise that he was satisfied with a constitutional sovereignty, and
did not hanker after despotic power.

July 25th, 1837
I remained at Knowsley till Saturday morning, when I went to
Liverpool, got into the train at half-past eleven, and at five minutes after
four arrived at RESULT OF THE ELECTIONS. Birmingham with an exact punctuality
which is rendered easy by the great reserved power of acceleration, the pace
at which we travelled being moderate and not above one half the speed at
which they do occasionally go; one engineer went at the rate of forty-five
miles an hour, but the Company turned him off for doing so. I went to
Kenilworth, and saw the ruins of Leicester’s Castle, and thence to Warwick
to see the Castle there, with both of which I was very much delighted, and
got to town on Sunday to find myself in the midst of all the interest of the
elections, and the sanguine and confident assertions and expectations of
both parties. The first great trial of strength was in the City yesterday; and
though Grote beat Palmer at last, and after a severe struggle, by a very
small majority, it is so far consolatory to the Conservative interest that it

shows a prodigious change since the last general election, when the
Conservative candidate was 2,000 behind his opponents.

July 28th, 1837
The borough elections in England, as far as they have gone, and they
are nearly over, have disappointed the Government, who expected to gain in
them.[5] The contests have been numerous, often very close, and in some
instances very costly. Norwich, won with the greatest difficulty by Lord
Douro and Scarlett, is said to have cost 50,000ℓ. A compromise was offered
at Yarmouth and at Norwich, but the parties could not come to terms, and
the result has been the same as if it had taken place—two Tories in one
place and two Whigs in the other. There have been a vast number of
changes, and, as always happens, results very different from what were
expected in particular places. The balance is slightly in favour of the Tories,
but the best sign of the times is the defeat of the Radicals in various places.
Grote nearly beaten in the City, and probably will be turned out on a
scrutiny;[6] Roebuck and Palmer were defeated at Bath, Ewart at Liverpool,
Wigney at Brighton, Thompson at Hull. It was clear enough before from the
Conservative language which was put into the Queen’s mouth by her
Ministers, and by that which they held themselves, that it was the only tone
which would be palatable to the country, and the event of the elections
confirms this impression. This is, after all, the essential point, to which the
gains of either party are entirely subordinate. If the Government keeps
together without internal dissensions, and nothing particular occurs to
produce a change, these Ministers cannot well be turned out, because,
though their majority is small, they have the undoubted support of the
House of Commons, and in my opinion they will be all the stronger from
the Radicals being so reduced in numbers, as those who remain must
support them, and cannot expect any concessions in return. It is quite
impossible to doubt that there is in the country a strong Conservative
reaction, and it is the more valuable from not being more strongly
pronounced. It is great enough to prove that our institutions are safe, but not
great enough to bring the Tories back into power and to turn their heads,
ready as they always are to be puffed up with every returning gale of
success. The Tories have made one good exchange in the article of

whippers-in, for they have got Planta and Holmes instead of Bonham and
Ross.
[5] [It was found that the Liberals replaced by Tories amounted to 66, and
the Tories replaced by Liberals to 53. The Government therefore lost 13 seats in
the boroughs.]
[6] [Mr. Grote was returned by a majority of only six, but he was not turned
out.]

Everything that could be said in praise of the Queen, of her manners,
conduct, conversation, and character, having been exhausted, we now hear
no more of her. It is an interesting speculation to conjecture how soon she
will begin to think and to act for herself upon higher matters, as she has at
once done on all minor points connected with her domestic arrangements. It
is generally believed that she is perfectly independent of any influence in
these things, and while in all political concerns she has put herself
implicitly in Melbourne’s hands, in all others she is her own mistress. From
the beginning she resolved to have nothing to do with Sir John Conroy, but
to reward him liberally for his services to her mother. She began by making
him a baronet, and she has given him a pension of 3,000ℓ. a year; but he has
PRINCESS LIEVEN’S AUDIENCES. never once been invited to the Palace, or
distinguished by the slightest mark of personal favour, so that nothing can
be more striking than the contrast between the magnitude of the pecuniary
bounty and the complete personal disregard of which he is the object. The
Queen has been extremely kind and civil to the Queen Dowager, but she has
taken no notice of the King’s children, good, bad, or indifferent. Lord
Munster asked for an audience to deliver up the keys of the Castle which he
had, and was very graciously received by her, but she did not give him back
the keys. Adolphus FitzClarence has lost his Lordship of the Bedchamber,
but then they only retained Peers, and he keeps the command of the Royal
yacht. He has had no intimation whether his pension and his Rangership of
Windsor Park are to be continued to him. [In the end, however, they
retained everything, and the Queen behaved with equal liberality and
kindness towards them all.]

July 29th, 1837

The loss of Leeds, news which arrived last night, is a great blow to the
Tories, and the only important Radical triumph that has occurred. George
Byng[7] told me yesterday that all the applications from the country for
candidates sent to the Reform Club desired that Whigs and not Radicals
might be supplied to them, which affords an additional proof of the decline
of Radical opinions. He owned that they are disappointed at the result of the
borough contests, having lost many places when they had no idea there was
any danger.
[7] [The Hon. George Byng, born 8th June 1806; succeeded his father the
Earl of Stafford, 3rd June 1860.]

July 30th, 1837
Madame de Lieven told me yesterday that she had an audience of the
Queen, who was very civil and gracious, but timid and embarrassed, and
talked of nothing but commonplaces. Her Majesty had probably been told
that the Princess was an intrigante, and was afraid of committing herself.
She had afterwards an interview with the Duchess of Kent, who (she told
me) it was plain to see is overwhelmed with vexation and disappointment.
Her daughter behaves to her with kindness and attention but has rendered
herself quite independent of the Duchess, who painfully feels her own
insignificance. The almost contemptuous way in which Conroy has been
dismissed must be a bitter mortification to her. The Duchess said to
Madame de Lieven, ‘qu’il n’y avait plus d’avenir pour elle, qu’elle n’était
plus rien;’ that for eighteen years this child had been the sole object of her
life, of all her thoughts and hopes, and now she was taken from her, and
there was an end of all for which she had lived heretofore. Madame de
Lieven said that she ought to be the happiest of human beings, to see the
elevation of this child, her prodigious success, and the praise and
admiration of which she was universally the object; that it was a triumph
and a glory which ought to be sufficient for her—to which she only shook
her head with a melancholy smile, and gave her to understand that all this
would not do, and that the accomplishment of her wishes had only made her
to the last degree unhappy. King William is revenged, he little anticipated
how or by what instrumentality, and if his ghost is an ill-natured and
vindictive shade, it may rejoice in the sight of this bitter disappointment of

his enemy. In the midst of all her propriety of manner and conduct, the
young Queen begins to exhibit slight signs of a peremptory disposition, and
it is impossible not to suspect that, as she gains confidence, and as her
character begins to develope, she will evince a strong will of her own. In all
trifling matters connected with her Court and her palace, she already enacts
the part of Queen and mistress as if it had long been familiar to her.

August 8th, 1837
At Goodwood since this day week till Saturday, when I went to
Petworth;—to town yesterday. The county elections have produced an
endless succession of triumphs to the Conservatives, of which the greatest
was that over Hume in Middlesex. The Whigs are equally astonished and
dismayed at this result, for they had not a notion of being bowled down as
they have been one after another. If the others had known their own
strength, they might have done a great deal more; Bingham Baring[8] could
CONSERVATIVE REACTION. have brought in another man with him for
Staffordshire; Henry Windham could have won Sussex had he chosen it,
and was very near being brought in without his own consent, and against
the wishes of Lord Egremont, who, having renounced politics, could not
endure the idea of his son being member for the county. Had Lord
Egremont lifted up his finger, Windham would have come in. The most
extraordinary of all these elections is that of Bingham Baring. He could not
stand again with any chance of success for Winchester, and he went with
5,000ℓ. in his pocket to Stafford, from time immemorial a corrupt borough;
there he was beat, and he was about to return after spending about one half
of his cash, when Lord Sandon pressed him to allow himself to be proposed
for Staffordshire, asserting that nothing was requisite but a candidate, so
much stronger was the Conservative feeling in the county than people were
aware of. Without much hope of success, his family having never resided in
the county, though his father has some property in it, and being personally
unknown to the electors, he consented to stand, and, though he had no
committee, and nothing was previously organised or arranged, he was
carried by a prodigious majority to the head of the poll. The elections in
which the Conservatives have failed have, nevertheless, exhibited a vast
change in the public mind, for they have generally been very severe

contests, and in Yorkshire, with nearly twice the constituency that there was
at the last election, John Wortley was within a few hundreds of his
opponents, when on the former occasion he was in a miserable minority.
[8] [William Bingham Baring, afterwards second Baron Ashburton, born
June 1799, died March 1864. He sat for North Staffordshire in this Parliament.]

Lord Munster has got back his keys of the Round Tower. Melbourne
found out that the place was held for life, and he sent for Munster, and told
him he had been hasty in disposing of it, that it was his own doing and not
the Queen’s, who had acted entirely by his advice, and that in his situation it
was impossible for him to do otherwise than bestow any vacant
appointment upon a person connected with his own party, but that he was
extremely glad in the present instance to find that he was not at liberty to
deprive Munster of the office. Munster afterwards saw the Queen, who was
exceedingly gracious, and told him she was very glad to restore the keys to
him. The Queen and Melbourne appear to have both evinced kindness and
good feeling on this occasion.

August 25th, 1837
Nothing of any moment has occurred for some time past, and all the
world has been occupied with the elections as long as they lasted. After
much disputing between the two parties as to the actual result, it appears by
an impartial examination of the returns that the Ministers will have a
majority of 30, and possibly a little more. As the Government members
always attend better than their opponents, the working majority will
probably be usually greater than this. The Conservatives are exceedingly
triumphant at the result, and not without reason. The English counties have
made a very important demonstration in their favour; they have not lost in
the towns, and the Radicals have been almost everywhere defeated. This
latter circumstance is exceedingly satisfactory, but the Radicals themselves
do not admit that this election affords any proof that their principles are on
the decline throughout the country. There cannot, however, be a doubt that
questions of organic change are not at present in any degree of public
favour. Charles Villiers, one of the Radicals with whom I sometimes
converse, insists upon it that the Ballot has made great progress, but he also

declares that, if carried, it would prove a Conservative measure, and that
better men would be chosen. He predicts, however, with greater appearance
of reason, that the question of the Corn Laws will, before long, become of
paramount interest and importance, and I am induced to think that the next
great struggle that takes place will be for their repeal.
The Tories behaved exceedingly ill in one respect during the late
contest, and that was in availing themselves as much as possible of the cry
that has been raised against the Poor Law. No measure of the Whig
Government deserved greater credit than this, or obtained so much
unqualified TORY OPPOSITION TO THE POOR LAW. praise and general support.
Inasmuch as the Tories are the largest landed proprietors, they are the
greatest gainers by the new system, and if a Tory Government should be in
power at the period of the expiration of the Act, they will not hesitate to
renew it. Nevertheless when they found that some odium was excited in
various parts of the country against the new Poor Law and its
administration, many of them did not scruple to foment the popular
discontent, and all watched its progress with satisfaction when they saw that
it was exclusively directed against their political antagonists. It has been
remarked with truth, that Peel has observed an almost invariable silence
upon this head. During the discussion of the Bill he seldom took any part;
never opposed it; but, if appealed to, expressed his acquiescence by silent
nods. Of late, when a great clamour has been raised against the Act, and
language bordering on sedition has been used, he has never said a word in
favour of the system, which it would have been more generous, manly, and
honourable to do than to cover himself with a cautious and mysterious
reserve on so important a subject. The Duke of Wellington took part in the
original measure very frankly; but at the end of last year, when Lord
Stanhope got up a discussion in the House of Lords on the subject, though
appealed to by Lord Tavistock, the Duke would not say a word. This was
not like him, for with reference to mere party tactics, it is to his praise that
he is generally ‘too fond of the right to pursue the expedient.’ It is this
behaviour of the Tories which has shown me that there may be such a thing
as a ‘Tory-Radical;’ for though I had heard the appellation, I thought they
were contradictory terms which did not admit of a conjunction. A Tory-
Radical is, however, a politician who for Tory party purposes endeavours to
influence the minds of the people against the laws and their administration,

not because he thinks those laws either ill-contrived or ill-executed, but
because he thinks that the consequences of such popular discontent will fall
upon his opponents, and that he can render the angry feeling instrumental to
his own selfish or ambitious designs.

August 30th, 1837
All that I hear of the young Queen leads to the conclusion that she will
some day play a conspicuous part, and that she has a great deal of character.
It is clear enough that she had long been silently preparing herself, and had
been prepared by those about her (and very properly) for the situation to
which she was destined. The impressions she has made continue to be
favourable, and particularly upon Melbourne, who has a thousand times
greater opportunities of knowing what her disposition and her capacity are
than any other person, and who is not a man to be easily captivated or
dazzled by any superficial accomplishments or mere graces of manner, or
even by personal favour. Melbourne thinks highly of her sense, discretion,
and good feeling; but what seem to distinguish her above everything are
caution and prudence, the former to a degree which is almost unnatural in
one so young, and unpleasing, because it suppresses the youthful impulses
which are so graceful and attractive.
On the morning of the King’s death, the Archbishop of Canterbury and
Lord Conyngham arrived at Kensington at five o’clock, and immediately
desired to see ‘the Queen.’ They were ushered into an apartment, and in a
few minutes the door opened and she came in wrapped in a dressing-gown
and with slippers on her naked feet. Conyngham in a few words told her
their errand, and as soon as he uttered the words ‘Your Majesty,’ she
instantly put out her hand to him, intimating that he was to kiss hands
before he proceeded. He dropped on one knee, kissed her hand, and then
went on to tell her of the late King’s death. She presented her hand to the
Archbishop, who likewise kissed it, and when he had done so, addressed to
her a sort of pastoral charge, which she received graciously and then retired.
She lost no time in giving notice to Conroy of her intentions with regard to
him; she saw him, and desired him to name the reward he expected for his
services to her parents. He asked for the Red Riband, an Irish peerage, and a

pension of 3,000 ℓ . a year. She replied that the two first rested with her
Ministers, and she could not engage for them, but that the THE QUEEN’S SELF-
POSSESSION. pension he should have. It is not easy to ascertain the exact cause
of her antipathy to him, but it has probably grown with her growth, and
results from divers causes. The person in the world she loves best is the
Baroness Lehzen, and Lehzen and Conroy were enemies. There was
formerly a Baroness Spaeth at Kensington, lady-in-waiting to the Duchess,
and Lehzen and Spaeth were intimate friends. Conroy quarrelled with the
latter and got her dismissed, and this Lehzen never forgave. She may have
instilled into the Princess a dislike and bad opinion of Conroy, and the
evidence of these sentiments, which probably escaped neither the Duchess
nor him, may have influenced their conduct towards her, for strange as it is,
there is good reason to believe that she thinks she has been ill-used by both
of them for some years past.[9] Her manner to the Duchess is, however,
irreproachable, and they appear to be on cordial and affectionate terms.
Madame de Lehzen is the only person who is constantly with her. When any
of the Ministers come to see her, the Baroness retires at one door as they
enter at the other, and the audience over she returns to the Queen. It has
been remarked that when applications are made to Her Majesty, she seldom
or never gives an immediate answer, but says she will consider of it, and it
is supposed that she does this because she consults Melbourne about
everything, and waits to have her answer suggested by him. He says,
however, that such is her habit even with him, and that when he talks to her
upon any subject upon which an opinion is expected from her, she tells him
she will think it over, and let him know her sentiments the next day.
[9] [The Queen, in a letter to her uncle, King Leopold, published with Her
Majesty’s sanction, speaks significantly of what she terms ‘my sad childhood.’]

The day she went down to visit the Queen Dowager at Windsor, to
Melbourne’s great surprise she said to him that as the flag on the Round
Tower was half-mast high, and they might perhaps think it necessary to
elevate it upon her arrival, it would be better to send orders beforehand not
to do so. He had never thought of the flag, or knew anything about it, but it
showed her knowledge of forms and her attention to trifles. Her manner to
the Queen was extremely kind and affectionate, and they were both greatly
affected at meeting. The Queen Dowager said to her that the only favour
she had to ask of her was to provide for the retirement, with their pensions,

of the personal attendants of the late King, Whiting and Bachelor, who had
likewise been the attendants of George IV.; to which she replied that it
should be attended to, but she could not give any promise on the subject.
She is upon terms of the greatest cordiality with Lord Melbourne, and
very naturally. Everything is new and delightful to her. She is surrounded
with the most exciting and interesting enjoyments; her occupations, her
pleasures, her business, her Court, all present an unceasing round of
gratifications. With all her prudence and discretion she has great animal
spirits, and enters into the magnificent novelties of her position with the
zest and curiosity of a child.
No man is more formed to ingratiate himself with her than Melbourne.
He treats her with unbounded consideration and respect, he consults her
tastes and her wishes, and he puts her at her ease by his frank and natural
manners, while he amuses her by the quaint, queer, epigrammatic turn of his
mind, and his varied knowledge upon all subjects. It is not therefore
surprising that she should be well content with her present Government, and
that during the progress of the elections she should have testified great
interest in the success of the Whig candidates. Her reliance upon
Melbourne’s advice extends at present to subjects quite beside his
constitutional functions, for the other day somebody asked her permission
to dedicate some novel to her, when she said she did not like to grant the
permission without knowing the contents of the work, and she desired
Melbourne to read the book and let her know if it was fit that she should
accept the dedication. Melbourne read the first volume, but found it so dull
that he would not read any more, and sent her word that she had better
refuse, which she accordingly did. She MANGO WINS THE ST. LEGER. seems to be
liberal, but at the same time prudent with regard to money, for when the
Queen Dowager proposed to her to take her band into her service, she
declined to incur so great an expense without further consideration, but one
of the first things she spoke to Melbourne about was the payment of her
father’s debts, which she is resolved to discharge.

October 23rd, 1837

Since August 30th, nearly two months, I have written not a line, for I
have had nothing to record of public or general interest, and have felt an
invincible repugnance to write about myself or my own proceedings.
Having nothing else to talk of, however, I shall write my own history of the
last seven weeks, which is very interesting to me inasmuch as it has been
very profitable. Having asked George Bentinck to try my horse ‘Mango’
before Doncaster, we went down together one night to Winchester race-
course and saw him tried. He won the trial and we resolved to back him.
This we accomplished more successfully than we expected, and ten days
after he won the St. Leger, and I won about 9,000ℓ. upon it, the first great
piece of good fortune that ever happened to me. Since Doncaster, I have
continued (up to this time) to win at Newmarket, so that my affairs are in a
flourishing condition, but, notwithstanding these successes, I am
dissatisfied and disquieted in my mind, and my life is spent in the
alternations of excitement from the amusement and speculation of the turf
and of remorse and shame at the pursuit itself. One day I resolve to extricate
myself entirely from the whole concern, to sell all my horses, and pursue
other occupations and objects of interest, and then these resolutions wax
faint, and I again find myself buying fresh animals, entering into fresh
speculations, and just as deeply engaged as ever. It is the force of habit, a
still unconquered propensity to the sport, and a nervous apprehension that if
I do give it up, I may find no subject of equal interest.

November 14th, 1837
Yesterday morning I heard of the death of Lord Egremont, who died
after a week’s illness of his old complaint, an inflammation in the trachea,
being within a month of eighty-six years old.[10] He was a remarkable man,
and his death will be more felt within the sphere of his influence (and that
extended over the whole county of Sussex) than any individual’s ever was.
He was immensely rich and his munificence was equal to his wealth. No
man probably ever gave away so much money in promoting charitable
institutions or useful undertakings, and in pensioning, assisting, and
supporting his numerous relations and dependants. His understanding was
excellent, his mind highly cultivated, and he retained all his faculties, even
his memory, unimpaired to the last. He was remarkably acute, shrewd, and

observant, and in his manner blunt without rudeness, and caustic without
bitterness. Though he had for some years withdrawn himself from the
world, he took an eager interest and curiosity in all that was passing in it,
and though not mixed up in politics, and sedulously keeping aloof from all
party conflicts, he did not fail to think deeply and express himself strongly
upon the important questions and events of the times. In his political
principles and opinions he was anti-Liberal, and latterly an alarmist as well
as a Conservative. He had always opposed Catholic Emancipation, which it
is difficult to account for in a man so sagacious and benevolent, except from
the force of prejudices early instilled into a mind of tenacious grasp which
was not exposed to the changeful influence of worldly commerce and
communication. It is probable that Lord Egremont might have acted a
conspicuous part in politics if he had chosen to embark on that stormy sea,
and upon the rare occasions when he spoke in the House of Lords, he
delivered himself with great energy and effect; but his temper, disposition,
and tastes were altogether incompatible with the trammels of office or the
restraints of party connexions, and he preferred to revel unshackled in all
the enjoyments of private life, both physical and intellectual, which an
enormous fortune, a vigorous constitution, and literary habits placed in
abundant variety before him. But in the system of CHARACTER OF LORD EGREMONT.
happiness which he marked out for himself, the happiness of others formed
a large and essential ingredient; nor did old age, as it stole upon him with
gradual and insensible steps, dull the brightness of his intellect or chill the
warmth of his heart. His mind was always intent upon providing for the
pleasure or the benefit of those around him, and there was nothing in which
he so keenly delighted as the rural festivals with which he celebrated his
own birthday, when thousands of the surrounding villagers were assembled
in his park to eat, drink and be merry. He was passionately fond of children,
and animals of every description found favour in his sight. Lord Egremont
was a distinguished patron of artists, and it was rarely that Petworth was
unvisited by some painter or sculptor, many of whom he kept in almost
continual employment, and by whom his loss will be severely felt. He was
extremely hospitable, and Petworth was open to all his friends, and to all
their friends if they chose to bring them, provided they did not interfere
with his habits or require any personal attention at his hands: from any such
obligation he considered that his age and infirmities released him. He
received his guests with the utmost urbanity and courtesy, did the honours

of his table, and in every other respect left them free to abide as long as they
pleased, but to amuse themselves as they could. Petworth was consequently
like a great inn. Everybody came when they thought fit, and departed
without notice or leave-taking. He liked to have people there who he was
certain would not put him out of his way, especially those who, entering
into his eccentric habits, were ready for the snatches of talk which his
perpetual locomotion alone admitted of, and from whom he could gather
information about passing events; but it was necessary to conform to his
peculiarities, and these were utterly incompatible with conversation or any
prolonged discussion. He never remained for five minutes in the same
place, and was continually oscillating between the library and his bedroom,
or wandering about the enormous house in all directions; sometimes he
broke off in the middle of a conversation on some subject which appeared
to interest him and disappeared, and an hour after, on a casual meeting,
would resume it just where he had left off. But this habitual restlessness,
which was so fatal to conversation, served perhaps to exhibit the vivacity of
his mind and its shrewd and epigrammatic turn in a more remarkable
manner: few persons visited Petworth without being struck with
astonishment at the unimpaired vigour of his intellectual powers. To have
lived to a great age in the practice of beneficence and the dispensation of
happiness, and to die without bodily suffering or mental decay, in the
enjoyment of existence up to the instant of its close, affords an example of
human prosperity, both in life and in death, which has fallen to the lot of
few, but which may well excite the envy and admiration of all.[11]
[10] [See for descent of Lord Egremont, p. 337, vol. ii. of the First Part of
Mr. Greville’s Journals.]
[11] The substance of this character of the Earl of Egremont was inserted in
the Times newspaper of Saturday, 18th November 1837.

November 3rd, 1837
At Court yesterday when the Queen received the Address of the
Commons. She conducts herself with surprising dignity: the dignity which
proceeds from self-possession and deliberation. The smallness of her stature
is quite forgotten in the majesty and gracefulness of her demeanour.

The Session has opened merrily with an angry squabble between Lord
John Russell and the Radicals, at which the Tories greatly rejoice. Upon the
Address, Wakley and others thought fit to introduce the topic of the Ballot
and other reforms, upon which John Russell spoke out and declared he
would never be a party to the Ballot, and would not reform the Reform Bill.
They were indignant, and attacked him in no measured terms. The next
night Charles Buller returned to the charge with equal violence, when Lord
John made (by the agreement of all parties) an incomparable speech
vindicating his own consistency, explaining his motives for making the
declaration which he did the first night, and repelling with great dignity the
charges with which he was assailed.[12] Of course opinions vary as to the
RADICAL DISCONTENT. expediency and propriety of his conduct on this occasion,
but I do not see that he could have acted otherwise, and it is much more
manly, straightforward, and honourable to declare at once what his
sentiments and intentions are than to endeavour to evade the subject for a
time, and to raise hopes and expectations which he has no design of
realising, and which, whenever he does declare himself, as eventually he
must, would only excite the bitterer disappointment and resentment.
However, whether he acted wisely or not, the immediate effect has been to
enrage the Radical section of his party exceedingly, and those who want the
Government to be turned out fondly hope that this split among them will
bring about the consummation. This is not probable, for angry as they may
be, they will still prefer Melbourne to Peel, and O’Connell (who is all
moderation) will throw Ireland into the scale and entreat them for Ireland’s
sake to lay aside their resentment. Such questions as the Ballot can only be
carried by the desire for them gaining ground largely throughout the
country, and this many assert to be the case. At this moment it is pretty clear
that the people care very little about speculative questions, and want only
peace and tranquillity. It is also said that there is a growing anti-Catholic
and anti-Irish spirit which the Conservatives do their best to excite and
extend. It would be a curious speculation, supposing both these influences
to operate widely, to anticipate the result of their action upon the great
antagonist parties in the country, and see which would gain most by a
coalition of Radical and sectarian principles. A state of things might by
possibility arise when they would act as mutual checks.
[12] [It was to this debate that Mr. Disraeli referred in his maiden speech,
delivered a few days later, when he spoke of the ‘passion and recrimination of

the noble Tityrus of the Treasury Bench and the learned Daphne of Liskeard,’
and added that ‘these amantium iræ had resulted in an amoris redintegratio.’ The
orator was laughed down before he concluded the sentence.]

[The Editor of these Journals may here be permitted to say, that it was
at this time that his acquaintance with Mr. Greville began, as he was
appointed to an office in the Privy Council on November 17, 1837. This
acquaintance speedily ripened into confidential friendship, which was
uninterrupted for a single day in the course of the next eight-and-twenty
years. Indeed Mr. Greville’s kind offices to his young acquaintance began
immediately; for the appointment of Mr. Reeve having been attacked with
great bitterness by Lord Brougham, who was then extremely hostile to
every department of the Government, Mr. Greville exerted himself with his
usual energy to defend it.
It may not be out of place, though it is out of date, to insert here, as a
memorial of this long friendship, a note written to the Editor of these
Journals by Mr. Greville, on May 6, 1859, when he had just resigned the
office of Clerk of the Council. It is in the following terms:—

My dear R.,—I will not delay to thank you warmly for your
kind note. Your accession to the Privy Council Office gave me a
friendship which I need not say how much I have valued
through so many years of happy intercourse, which I rejoice at
thinking has never been clouded or interrupted and which, I
hope, will last the same as long as I last myself. It is always
painful to do anything for the last time, and I cannot without
emotion take leave of an office where I have experienced for so
many years so much kindness, consideration, and goodwill; but
I hope still to be considered as amicus curiæ and to be applied to
on every occasion when I can be of use to the Office. Between
you and me there has been, I think, as much as possible between
any two people the ‘idem velle, idem nolle, et idem sentire de
republicâ,’ and, in consequence, the ‘firma amicitia.’
God bless you, and believe me always

Yours most sincerely and faithfully,
C.C.G.]

November 26th, 1837
It is still a matter of general discussion and speculation whether Lord
John Russell’s bold declaration will have the effect of breaking up the
Government by disgusting the Radicals to such a degree as to make them in
spite withdraw their aid on some important occasion. Those gentry are still
very irate and sulky, but I do not expect they will connive at the overthrow
of the Government; they know better than to open the doors of office to the
Tories. Lord Brougham has taken the field with a violent COMMITTEE ON THE
PENSION LIST. Radical speech, and he seized an occasion to set his tongue
wagging against the Chancellor; in short he seems bent on mischief. He has
written word to Lord Granville that he would not be gagged this Session; he
will be glad to lead anybody who will be led by him; and as the post of
general of the Radicals appears to be vacant, he may aspire to that. His
actual position as contrasted with his vast abilities is indeed calculated to
‘point a moral.’

December 8th, 1837
The notion of a break-up of the Government has gradually faded away,
and though the Radicals have not forgiven John Russell for his speech, they
appear to have no intention of altering their conduct towards the
Government, and some concessions have already been made partly for the
purpose of mollifying them. Government have given up the Pension List,
and it is believed that the Ballot is to be made an open question. This will
be considered more than an equivalent for the discouraging effect of John
Russell’s speech. Peel and the Tories oppose the Committee on the
Pensions,[13] but it is remarkable that on the Civil List Committee the other
day, when Rice proposed that 75,000ℓ. should be granted for pensions, and

Grote moved to suspend the grant till after the Pensions Committee had
reported, Peel and his people (Goulburn, Harding, Fremantle, &c.)
supported Grote, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer was in a minority of
one. This too was an accident, for Francis Baring was absent from the
division on account of the following circumstance. In a speech in the House
of Lords the night before on the Post Office, Lord Lichfield[14] had attacked
Mr. Wallace with great severity, and immediately after Wallace sent him a
message which was tantamount to a challenge. Alvanley was employed to
settle the quarrel, which he did, but it became necessary to instruct Baring
to say something on the subject in the House of Commons, where Wallace
was going to allude to it. Alvanley detained Baring so long that he was too
late for the division in the Committee; had he been there and made the
numbers even, Rice, as chairman, must have given the casting vote for or
against his own proposition, either of which would have been very
awkward, but it is not very clear why Peel voted as he did.
[13] [The Chancellor of the Exchequer moved for a Select Committee to
inquire how far pensions granted under the Acts of the last reign, and charged on
the Civil List or the Consolidated Fund, ought to be continued. The motion was
carried by 293 to 233 votes.]
[14] [The Earl of Lichfield was Postmaster General.]

Lord Roden brought on the Irish question in the House of Lords, when
Mulgrave[15] made a very triumphant vindication of himself and utterly
discomfited the Orangemen. The Duke of Wellington made a very clever
speech, and availed himself of the contradictory returns of crimes and
convictions skilfully enough, but he had the candour to give Mulgrave
ample credit for the vigour with which he had caused the law to be
enforced, and, as for months past the Orangemen had been clamouring
against the Irish Government for neglecting to enforce the law and for
depriving Protestants of its protection, it was a very magnanimous
admission on the Duke’s part, and such a one as few of his political
opponents would have made. It is the peculiar merit of the Duke that he is
never disposed to sacrifice truth for a party purpose, and it is this manliness
and straightforwardness, this superiority to selfish considerations and
temporary ends, which render him the object of universal respect and
admiration, and will hereafter surround his political character with unfading
honour. Not content with the defeat which they sustained in the House of
Lords, the Orangemen had the folly to provoke another contest in the House

of Commons, and Colonel Verner brought forward ‘the Battle of the
Diamond,’ giving Morpeth an opportunity of another triumph as signal as
Mulgrave’s in the House of Lords. The Irish Orangemen were left to their
fate on this occasion, for none of their English associates came to their
relief.
[15] [Constantine Henry, second Earl of Mulgrave, created in the following
year Marquis of Normanby. He was at this time Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. Lord
Morpeth was Chief Secretary to the Lord-Lieutenant.]

Mr. Disraeli made his first exhibition the other night, MR. DISRAELI’S FIRST
SPEECH. beginning with florid assurance, speedily degenerating into ludicrous
absurdity, and being at last put down with inextinguishable shouts of
laughter.[16]
[16] [Mr. Disraeli’s first speech was made on the motion with reference to
what was called ‘the Spottiswoode Gang.’ An association had been formed in
London for the purpose of collecting money to test the validity of the Irish
elections wholesale. Mr. Spottiswoode, one of the Queen’s printers, was the
president of this association, which was denounced by the Radicals and the Irish
Members as ‘the Spottiswoode Gang,’ and attacked in Parliament by Mr. Blewitt,
who moved five resolutions condemning the institution of the Spottiswoode
fund. Lord John Russell, however, discouraged the attack, on the ground that the
number of election petitions in the present year was not such as to warrant any
extraordinary measures in regard to them. Mr. Blewitt withdrew four of his
resolutions and left the House without moving the fifth. Solvuntur risu tabulæ.]

The new House of Commons does not promise to be a more business-
like or more decorous assembly than its immediate predecessor. Already
two whole nights have been consumed in the discussion of two topics so
unprofitable as ‘the Battle of the Diamond’ and ‘the Spottiswoode Gang,’
and it is said that such a scene of disorder and such a beargarden never was
beheld. The noise and confusion are so great that the proceedings can
hardly be heard or understood, and it was from something growing out of
this confusion and uproar that the Speaker thought it necessary to address
the House last night and complain that he no longer enjoyed its confidence,
and if he saw any future indication that such was the case he should resign
the Chair. His declaration was taken very quietly, for nobody said a word.
Brougham made a great speech on education the other night, but it was
so long, tedious, and digressive that he drove everybody away. He is in a
very bitter state of mind, scarcely speaking to any of his former friends and

colleagues, and having acquired no new friends of any party. He courts the
Radicals, and writes letters and makes speeches directly at variance with all
his former professions and opinions; but the Radicals, though they do not
object to make use of him, will by no means trust him.
I asked Charles Buller if they would have Lord Brougham for their
leader, and he said ‘certainly not,’ and added that ‘Durham had done
nothing as yet to forfeit their confidence.’ He enlightened me at the same
time about his own Radical opinions and views and the extent of them,
together with those of the more moderate of his party, complaining that they
were misrepresented and misunderstood; although for the Ballot and
extension of the suffrage, he is opposed to reform of the House of Lords or
any measure directly affecting the Constitution. He does not admit that the
measures he advocates do affect the Constitution directly or indirectly.[17] I
told him if he repudiated the violent maxims of Molesworth and others, he
should not let these ultra-Radicals be the organs of the party, as the world
did not and could not distinguish between them, especially as the Moderates
took no steps to clear themselves and establish juster notions of the
character and tendency of their principles. He did not deny this, but they
dread an appearance of disunion; so, as always happens when this is the
case, the most exalted and exaggerated of the party, who will not be
silenced and are reckless of consequences, take the lead and keep it.
[17] [It cannot fail to strike the reader that all the measures which were
regarded as the tests of Radicalism in 1837 have long since been carried, and
have now the general assent of the nation.]

December 12th, 1837
On the debate about Pensions the other night Whittle Harvey outdid
himself; by all accounts it was inimitable, dramatic to the greatest degree,
and acted to perfection. Peel was heavy, Stanley very smart, the Ministers
were beaten hollow in the argument, but got a respectable division, of
which they make the most; but it proves nothing as to their real strength,
which has not yet been tested. John Russell made a wretched speech, being
obliged to vote in the teeth of his former opinions and conduct.

December 14th, 1837
There was a grand breeze in the House of Lords the night before last
between Melbourne and Brougham. The latter is said to have been in a
towering passion, and he vociferated and gesticulated with might and main.
Jonathan Peel was in the Lobby, and being attracted by the noise, ran to the
House, and found Brougham not only on his legs, but on tip-toes in the
middle of his indignant LORD BROUGHAM AND LORD MELBOURNE. rejoinder.
Melbourne’s attack upon him seemed hardly called for, but I heard he had
declared he would not much longer endure the continual twittings and
punchings that Brougham every day dealt out to some one or other of the
Ministers. The Chancellor, Lord Lansdowne, and Glenelg, had all suffered
in their turns, and so when Brougham taunted him with his courtly habits,
he could not restrain himself, and retorted savagely though not very well.
What he said was nothing but a tu quoque, and only remarkable for the
bitter tone in which it was uttered and the sort of reproach it conveyed.
Probably Melbourne thought it as well to put an end at once to the half
hostile, half amicable state of their mutual relations, to their ‘noble
friendship,’ and real enmity, and to bring matters to a crisis, otherwise he
might have had some indulgence for his old friend and colleague, have
made allowance for the workings of deep disappointment and mortification
on his excitable temperament, and have treated him with forbearance out of
reverence for his rare acquirements and capacity. But the fact is, that
Brougham has ostentatiously proclaimed the dissolution of all his former
ties, and has declared war against all his ancient connexions; he has
abandoned his friends and his principles together, and has enrolled himself
in a Radical fellowship which would have been the object of his scorn and
detestation in his calmer moods and in more prosperous days.
Le Marchant, who was his secretary for four years, and knows him
well, told me that no man was a greater aristocrat in his heart than
Brougham, from conviction attached to aristocracy, from taste desirous of
being one of its members. He said that Dugald Stewart, when talking of his
pupils, had said though he envied most the understanding of Horner (whom
he loved with peculiar affection), he considered Brougham the ablest man
he had ever known, but that even then (forty years ago) he considered his to
be a mind that was continually oscillating on the verge of insanity. Le
Marchant said that Brougham’s powers of application exceeded what he

had believed possible of any human being. He had known him work
incessantly from nine in the morning till one at night, and at the end be as
fresh apparently as when he began. He could turn from one subject to
another with surprising facility and promptitude, in the same day travelling
through the details of a Chancery cause, writing a philosophical or
mathematical treatise, correcting articles for the ‘Library of Useful
Knowledge,’ and preparing a great speech for the House of Lords. When
one thinks of the greatness of his genius and the depth of his fall, from the
loftiest summit of influence, power, and fame to the lowest abyss of
political degradation, in spite of the faults and the follies of his character
and conduct, one cannot help feeling regret and compassion at the sight of
such a noble wreck and of so much glory obscured.

December 24th, 1837
News of the insurrection in Canada arrived the day before yesterday,
and produced a debate of some animation in the House of Commons, in
which the Radicals principally figured, making speeches of such exceeding
violence that it was only justifiable to pass them over, because those who
uttered them are not worth notice. Gladstone spoke very well, and Lord
John Russell closed the discussion with an excellent speech just such as a
Minister ought to make, manly, temperate, and constitutional. He is a
marvellous little man, always equal to the occasion, afraid of nobody, fixed
in his principles, clear in his ideas, collected in his manner, and bold and
straightforward in his disposition. He invariably speaks well when a good
speech is required from him, and this is upon every important question, for
he gets no assistance from any of his colleagues, except now and then from
Howick. This is a fine occasion for attacking the Government and placing
them between two fires, for the Radicals abuse them for their tyrannical and
despotic treatment of the Canadians, and the Tories attribute the rebellion to
their culpable leniency and futile attempts at conciliation by concessions
which never ought to have been made, and only were made out of
complaisance to the Radicals here. As generally happens when there are THE
INSURRECTION IN CANADA. charges of an opposite nature, and incompatible with
one another, neither of them is true.

Since Brougham and Melbourne’s set-to in the House of Lords, the
former has been speaking every day and entering a protest about every
other day. He is in a state of permanent activity, and means to lead such of
the Radicals as will enlist under his ragged banner. He was quite furious
about the Civil List, and evidently means to outbid everybody for
popularity. He goes on belabouring and ‘befriending’ the Government
Lords, but the effect he produces (if any) is out of doors, for he usually
wastes his rhetoric on empty benches.
The Queen went to the House yesterday without producing any
sensation. There was the usual crowd to look at the finery of carriages,
horses, Guards, &c., but not a hat raised nor a voice heard: the people of
England seem inclined to hurrah no more.

December 30th, 1837
Since the receipt of Colborne’s despatches,[18] the alarm about Canada
has subsided, and if Ministers had been aware that matters were no worse,
probably Parliament would have had longer holidays. Nobody doubts that
the insurrection will be easily put down, but the difficulty will be how to
settle matters afterwards. It does not appear that this Government has been
more to blame than any other, for the same system seems to have been
pursued by all. They might indeed have adopted decisive measures at an
earlier period, and as soon as they found that the Assembly was invincibly
obstinate and deaf to the voice of reason, they ought to have put an end to
the humiliating contest by an assertion of Imperial power. All that can be
said is, that they tried the conciliatory power too long.
[18] [Sir John Colborne was Lieutenant-Governor of Canada at the time the
insurrection broke out, and the suppression of it was mainly due to the vigorous
measures taken by him on the spot. For these services he was raised to the
peerage by the title of Lord Seaton. He died in 1863 at the age of eighty-four.]

Burghley, January 2nd, 1838

Among other changes of habit, it has occurred to me why should not I
begin the New Year by keeping a regular diary? What I do write are merely
fragments of memoirs with passing events briefly alluded to, and the odds
and ends collected from different sources recorded and commented on. It is
not the first time I have had thoughts of keeping a more regular journal, in
which not only my doings should be noted down and my goings, but which
would also preserve some record of my thoughts and feelings, if ever
indeed I really do think and feel. The reason I have never done anything of
this sort is partly that I have been too idle, and the result partly of modesty
and partly of vanity. A journal to be good, true, and interesting, should be
written without the slightest reference to publication, but without any fear
of it; it should be the transcript of a mind which can bear transcribing. I do
not in sincerity believe that my mind, or thoughts, or actions, are of
sufficient importance or interest to make it worth while (for the sake of
others) to take this trouble. I always contemplate the possibility that
hereafter my journal will be read by the public, always greedy of such
things, and I regard with alarm and dislike the notion of its containing a
heap of twaddle and trash concerning matters appertaining to myself which
nobody else will care three straws about. If therefore I discard these
scruples and do what I meditate (and very likely after all I shall not, or only
for a very short time), the next thing is, Why? It seems exceedingly
ridiculous to say that one strong stimulus proceeds from reading Scott’s
Diary—which he began very late in life and in consequence of reading
Byron’s—not because I fancy I can write a diary as amusing as Scott’s or
Byron’s, but because I am struck by the excessive pleasure which Scott
appeared to derive from writing his journal, and I am (and this is the
principal cause) struck with the important use to which the habit may be
turned. The habit of recording is first of all likely to generate a desire to
have something of some interest to record; it will lead to habits of reflexion
and to trains of thought, the pursuit of which may be pleasing and
profitable; it will exercise the memory and sharpen the understanding THE
DUKE OF WELLINGTON AT BURLEIGH. generally; and though the thoughts may not be
very profound, nor the remarks very lively or ingenious, nor the narrative of
exceeding interest, still the exercise is, I think, calculated to make the writer
wiser, and perhaps better. If I do this I shall read over all I write long before
anyone else will have an opportunity of doing so, and I am not likely to be
over-indulgent if I find myself a bore.

Yesterday morning I left town, slept at Newmarket, saw the horses,
rode out on the Warren Hill, and came here to dinner, where I find twenty-
two people—the Duke of Wellington and Lord Aberdeen, the Salisburys,
Wiltons, and a mob of fine people; very miserable representatives of old
Lord Burleigh, the two insignificant-looking Marquesses, who are his lineal
descendants, and who display no more of his brains than they do of his
beard. The Duke of Wellington is in great force, talked last night of Canada,
and said he thought the first operations had been a failure, and he judged so
because the troops could neither take the rebel chief, nor hold their ground,
nor return by any other road than that by which they came; that if Colborne
could hold Montreal during the winter it would do very well, but he was not
sure that he would be able to do so; that the Government ought to exhibit to
the world their determination to put this revolt down, and that to do so they
must seal the St. Lawrence[19] so as to prevent the ingress of foreigners,
who would flock to Canada for employment against us; that the Queen
could not blockade her own ports, so that they must apply to Parliament for
power to effect this, and they ought to bring in a Bill forthwith for the
purpose. This morning he got a letter (from a man he did not know)
enclosing the latest news, which he thought very good, and promising better
and more decisive results. After breakfast they went shooting.
[19] The Duke expressed no such opinion in either of his speeches on
Canada (February 4th).

I walked out and joined the Duke, who talked to me for I dare say an
hour and a half about his Spanish campaigns, and most interesting it was. I
told him that the other day Allen[20] had asked me to find somebody, a
military man, to review the Wellington Despatches in the ‘Edinburgh
Review,’ and that he had suggested Sir George Murray as the fittest person
if he would undertake it; that I had accordingly spoken to Fitzroy Somerset,
who had agreed to apply to Murray; and, if Murray would not do it, I
begged him to turn in his mind what officer could be found equal to such a
task, and I then asked the Duke if he knew of anybody. He seemed
amazingly pleased at the idea, said he knew nobody, but Murray was the
fittest man. From this he began to talk, and told me a great deal of various
matters, which I wish I could have taken down as it fell from his lips. I was
amused at the simplicity with which he talked of the great interest of these
Despatches, just as he might have done if they had been the work of any

other man; said he had read them himself with considerable astonishment
and great interest, and that everybody might see that there was not one word
in them that was not strictly and literally true. He said of his generals, ‘that
in the beginning they none of them knew anything of the matter, that he was
obliged to go from division to division and look to everything himself down
to the minutest details.’ I said, ‘What on earth would have happened if
anything had befallen you?’ He laughed and said, ‘I really do not know.
There was a great deal of correspondence about my successor at the time
Sir Thomas Graham went home.[21] I was against having any second in
command, which was quite useless, as nobody could share the
responsibility with me. However, afterwards Graham came back, and then
there was Hope next to him.’ He said, ‘Hill had invariably done well,
always exactly obeyed my orders, and executed THE BATTLE OF SALAMANCA. them
successfully.’ The fall of Badajoz was a great blow to him, but he did not
know that it was by an act of treachery. The Spanish Government perhaps
did not believe that he was approaching to relieve the place, but it was a
most curious fact, that whereas it was agreed that the Spanish army should
march out over the breach with the honours of war, they were obliged, after
the capitulation, to make a breach for them to go over, none having been
made by the besiegers. The General, with whom he finds much fault (in the
ninth volume) for disobeying his orders and making false movements, was
Victor Allen, but he said he treated him with great leniency, and so he did
his officers on all occasions, and was as forbearing and indulgent with them
as it was possible to be.
[20] [Mr. Allen, an accomplished literary inmate of Holland House, the
author of a work on the ‘Royal Prerogative,’ and himself an occasional
contributor to the ‘Edinburgh Review.’]
[21] [The intention of the Government was that if any accident befell the
Duke of Wellington, General Sir Thomas Graham, afterwards Lord Lynedoch,
should take the command of the British forces in Spain. This appears from the
Memoir of Lord Lynedoch, published in 1880, by Captain Alexander Delavoye.]

All the movements and operations before the battle of Salamanca were
to the last degree interesting. The Duke was anxiously waiting for some
advantageous occasion to attack Marmont, and at last it arrived; he saw it
happen, and took his resolution on the spot. He was dining in a farm-yard
with his officers, where (when he had done dinner) everybody else came
and dined as they could. The whole French army was in sight, moving, and

the enemy firing upon the farmyard in which he was dining. ‘I got up,’ he
said, ‘and was looking over a wall round the farm-yard, just such a wall as
that’ (pointing to a low stone wall bounding the covert), ‘and I saw the
movement of the French left through my glass. “By God,” said I, “that will
do, and I’ll attack them directly.” I had moved up the Sixth Division
through Salamanca, which the French were not aware of, and I ordered
them to attack, and the whole line to advance. I had got my army so
completely in hand that I could do this with ease, and in forty minutes the
battle was won—‘quarante mille hommes battus en quarante minutes.’ I
asked him if it was true that he and Marmont had subsequently talked over
the event of the battle, and that Marmont had asserted that his orders had
been disobeyed, or that this movement of which the Duke took advantage
would not have been made. He said he believed there had been some
conversation on the subject, and that Marmont had said he was wounded
before this movement took place; he said he did not know if this was true,
but it might be, as there had been continual fighting for some time previous.
I asked him why Bonaparte had not himself come to Spain to attack him;
and if he had with a great force, whether he would have driven him out. He
replied that he thought Napoleon had satisfied himself that it would be a
work of great difficulty, and what was more, of great length, and he had no
mind to embark in it; and that the French certainly would not have driven
him out: he should have taken up some position, and have been enabled to
baffle the Emperor himself just as he had done his marshals. He thinks that
Napoleon’s military system compelled him to employ his armies in war,
when they invariably lived upon the resources of the countries they
occupied, and that France could not have maintained them, as she must
have done if he had made peace: peace, therefore, would have brought
about (through the army itself) his downfall. He traces the whole military
system of France from its first organisation during the Reign of Terror, in a
letter in the tenth volume of the Despatches. I asked him how he reconciled
what he had said of the extraordinary discipline of the French army with
their unsparing and habitual plunder of the country, and he said that though
they plundered in the most remorseless way, there was order and discipline
in their plundering, and while they took from the inhabitants everything
they could lay their hands upon, it was done in the way of requisition, and
that they plundered for the army and not for themselves individually, but
they were reduced to great shifts for food. At the battle of Fuentes d’Onor

he saw the French soldiers carry off horses that were killed to be cooked
and eaten in another part of the field. ‘I saw particularly with my own eyes
one horse put upon a cart drawn by two bullocks (they could not afford to
kill the bullocks), and drawn off; and I desired a man to watch where the
cart went, and it was taken to another French division for the horse to be
eaten. Now we never were reduced to eat horseflesh.’ I remarked that he
alluded in A PARTY AT BELVOIR CASTLE. one of his letters to his having been once
very nearly taken, and he said it was just before the battle of Talavera in
consequence of some troops giving way. He was on a ruined tower from
which he was obliged to leap down; and if he had not been young and
active, as he was in those days, he should certainly have been taken.
He talked a great deal of the Spanish character, unchanged to this day;
of the vast difficulties he had had to contend with from both Spanish and
Portuguese Governments, the latter as bad as the former; of their punctilios
and regard to form and ceremony. ‘At the time of the battle of the
Pyrenees[22] I had occasion to send O’Donnel to advance, and he was
mightily affronted because he did not receive the order by an officer from
head-quarters. I was living under hedges and ditches, and had not been to
head-quarters for several days, and so I told him, but that he should have an
order if he pleased in the proper form.’ I asked him if it was not then that he
found the troops in full retreat. He said they were beginning to retreat when
he arrived, ‘then they threw up their caps and made a most brilliant affair of
it.’
[22] [This expression occurs more than once in these Journals. No battle is
known in history as the ‘battle of the Pyrenees,’ but the expression doubtless
relates to the actions which were fought in the Pyrenees, after Soult took the
command of the French army in July 1814.]

It is impossible to convey an idea of the zest, eagerness, frankness, and
abundance with which he talked, and told of his campaigns, or how
interesting it was to hear him. He expressed himself very warmly about
Hill, of all his generals, and said, ‘When I gave him my memorandum about
Canada the other day I said, Why it looks as if we were at our old trade
again.’ He added that he ‘always gave his opinion when it was required on
any subject.’

Belvoir Castle, January 4th, 1838
Came here yesterday, all the party (almost) migrating, and many others
coming from various parts to keep the Duke of Rutland’s birthday. We are
nearly forty at dinner, but it is no use enumerating the people. Last night the
Duke of Wellington talked of Hanover, said he really did not know much of
the matter; that neither William IV. nor George IV. had ever talked to him
on the subject or he must have made himself acquainted with it; that the
Duke of Cumberland had written him word that he had never had any
notion of adopting the measures he has since done till he was going over in
the packet with Billy Holmes.[23] The Duke wrote him word that he knew
nothing of his case, and the only advice he could give him was to let the
affair be settled as speedily as possible. When the late King had evidently
only a few days to live, the Duke of Cumberland consulted the Duke as to
what he should do. ‘I told him the best thing he could do was to go away as
fast as he could: Go instantly,’ I said, ‘and take care that you don’t get
pelted.’ The Duke, Aberdeen, and FitzGerald all condemned his
proceedings without reference to their justice or to his legal and
constitutional right as regards Hanover, but on account of the impression
(no matter right or wrong) which they are calculated to produce in this
country, where it ought to be a paramount interest with him to preserve or
acquire as good a character as he can. They all declared that Lyndhurst was
equally ignorant with themselves of his views and intentions, with which in
fact the Conservatives had no sort of concern. The Duke also advised him
not to take the oaths as Privy Councillor, or those of a Peer in the House of
Lords, because he thought it would do him an injury in the eyes of his new
subjects, that he, a King, should swear fealty as her subject to the Queen as
his Sovereign; but somebody else (he thought the Duke of Buckingham)
overruled this advice, and he had himself a fancy to take the oaths.
[23] [The first act of Ernest, King of Hanover, on his accession, was to
suspend the Hanoverian Constitution, and to prosecute the liberal Professors of
Göttingen.]

To-day we[24] went to see the house Mr. Gregory is building, five miles
from here. He is a gentleman of about 12,000ℓ. a year, who has a fancy to
build a magnificent MR. GREGORY’S HOUSE AND ESTATE. house in the Elizabethan
style, and he is now in the middle of his work, all the shell being finished
except one wing. Nothing can be more perfect than it is, both as to the

architecture and the ornaments; but it stands on the slope of a hill upon a
deep clay soil, with no park around it, very little wood, and scarcely any
fine trees. Many years ago, when he first conceived this design, he began to
amass money and lived for no other object. He travelled into all parts of
Europe collecting objects of curiosity, useful or ornamental, for his
projected palace, and he did not begin to build until he had accumulated
money enough to complete his design. The grandeur of it is such, and such
the tardiness of its progress, that it is about as much as he will do to live till
its completion; and as he is not married, has no children, and dislikes the
heir on whom his property is entailed, it is the means and not the end to
which he looks for gratification. He says that it is his amusement, as
hunting or shooting or feasting may be the objects of other people; and as
the pursuit leads him into all parts of the world, and to mix with every
variety of nation and character, besides engendering tastes pregnant with
instruction and curious research, it is not irrational, although he should
never inhabit his house, and may be toiling and saving for the benefit of
persons he cares nothing about. The cottages round Harlaxton are worth
seeing. It has been his fancy to build a whole village in all sorts of strange
fantastic styles. There are Dutch and Swiss cottages, every variety of old
English, and heaps of nondescript things, which appear only to have been
built for variety’s sake. The effect is extremely pretty. Close to the village is
an old manor house, the most perfect specimen I ever saw of such a
building, the habitation of an English country gentleman of former times,
and there were a buff jerkin and a pair of jack boots hanging up in the hall,
which the stout old Cavalier of the seventeenth century (and one feels sure
that the owner of that house was a Cavalier) had very likely worn at
Marston Moor or Naseby.

[24] The Duke and Duchess of Sutherland, Lady Salisbury, Lord Exeter,
Lord Wilton, Lady Adeliza Manners, Lords Aberdeen, FitzGerald, J. Manners,
and myself.

To-day (the cook told me) nearly four hundred people will dine in the
Castle. We all went into the servants’ hall, where one hundred and forty-five
retainers had just done dinner and were drinking the Duke’s health, singing
and speechifying with vociferous applause, shouting, and clapping of
hands. I never knew before that oratory had got down into the servants’ hall,
but learned that it is the custom for those to whom ‘the gift of the gab’ has
been vouchsafed to harangue the others, the palm of eloquence being
universally conceded to Mr. Tapps the head coachman, a man of great
abdominal dignity, and whose Ciceronian brows are adorned with an ample
flaxen wig, which is the peculiar distinction of the functionaries of the
whip. I should like to bring the surly Radical here who scowls and snarls at
‘the selfish aristocracy who have no sympathies with the people,’ and when
he has seen these hundreds feasting in the Castle, and heard their loud
shouts of joy and congratulation, and then visited the villages around, and
listened to the bells chiming all about the vale, say whether ‘the greatest
happiness of the greatest number’ would be promoted by the destruction of
all the feudality which belongs inseparably to this scene, and by the
substitution of some abstract political rights for all the beef and ale and
music and dancing with which they are made merry and glad even for so
brief a space. The Duke of Rutland is as selfish a man as any of his class—
that is, he never does what he does not like, and spends his whole life in a
round of such pleasures as suit his taste, but he is neither a foolish nor a bad
man, and partly from a sense of duty, partly from inclination, he devotes
time and labour to the interest and welfare of the people who live and
labour on his estate. He is a Guardian of a very large Union, and he not only
attends regularly the meetings of Poor Law Guardians every week or
fortnight, and takes an active part in their proceedings, but he visits those
paupers who receive out-of-door relief, sits and converses with them,
invites them to complain to him if they have anything to complain of, and
tells them that he is not only their friend but their representative at the
assembly of Guardians, and it is his duty to LIFE AT BELVOIR. see that they are
nourished and protected. To my mind there is more ‘sympathy’ in this than
in railing at the rich and rendering the poor discontented, weaning them
from their habitual attachments and respects, and teaching them that the

political quacks and adventurers who flatter and cajole them are their only
real friends.
We had a great ball last night, opened by the Duke of Rutland and
Duchess of Sutherland, who had to sail down at least a hundred couple of
tenants, shopkeepers, valets, and abigails. The Duke of Newcastle gave the
Duke’s health at dinner instead of the Duke of Wellington, who generally
discharges that office. He made a boggling business of it, but apologised in
sufficiently handsome terms for being spokesman instead of the Duke of
Wellington. The Duke of Rutland made a very respectable speech in reply,
and it all went off swimmingly. To-day I went to see the hounds throw off;
but though a hunter was offered to me would not ride him, because there is
no use in risking the hurt or ridicule of a fall for one day. A man who goes
out in this casual way and hurts himself looks as foolish as an amateur
soldier who gets wounded in a battle in which he is tempted by curiosity to
mingle. So I rode with the mob, saw a great deal of galloping about and the
hounds conveniently running over hills and vales all in sight, and then came
home. They said a thousand people were out, many attracted by the
expectation of the Duke of Wellington’s appearing, but he was rheumatic
and could not come out. He is incessantly employed in writing military
statements and memoranda, having been consulted by the Government, or
probably by Lord Hill on behalf of the Government, both on this Canadian
question, and on the general government of the army, and he will take as
much pains to give useful advice to Melbourne’s Government as if he and
Peel were in office. There never was a man who so entirely sank all party
considerations in national objects, and he has had the glory of living to hear
this universally acknowledged. Brougham said of him, ‘That man’s first
object is to serve his country, with a sword if necessary, or with a pick-axe.’
He also said of the Duke’s Despatches, ‘They will be remembered when I
and others (mentioning some of the most eminent men) will be forgotten.’
Aberdeen told the Duke this, and he replied with the greatest simplicity, ‘It
is very true: when I read them I was myself astonished, and I can’t think
how the devil I could have written them.’ This is very characteristic, very
curious from a man who has not one grain of conceit in his disposition; but
really great men are equally free from undue vanity or affected modesty,
and know very well the value of what they do.

Last night I sat next to Lord FitzGerald at dinner, who said that if ever
his memoirs appeared (he did not say that any existed) they would contain
many curious things, and among them the proofs that the events which were
supposed to have been the proximate cause of the Catholic question being
carried were not the real cause, and that the resolution of the Duke of
Wellington is traceable to other sources, which he could not reveal.

Melton, January 7th, 1838 (Lord Wilton’s house)
I came here to-day from Belvoir. Last night the Duke of Wellington
narrated the battle of Toulouse and other Peninsular recollections. All the
room collected round him, listening with eager curiosity, but I was playing
at whist and lost it all. FitzGerald said to me that he had a great mind to
write upon Ireland, and make a statement of the conduct of England
towards Ireland for ages past; that he had mentioned his idea to Peel, who
had replied, ‘Well, and if you do, I am not the man to object to your doing
so.’ This he meant as a trait of his fairness and candour; but the fact is that it
is Peel’s interest that all Irish questions should be settled, and he would
rejoice at anything which tended to accelerate a settlement, and I am no
great believer in his fairness. I was struck with a great admiration for Peel
during his hundred days’ struggle, when he made a gallant fight; but this has
very much cooled since that time.
FitzGerald said one thing in conversation with me of which I painfully
felt the truth, that an addiction to worthless or useless pursuits did an
irretrievable injury to the REFLEXIONS. mental faculties. It is not only the actual
time wasted which might have been turned to good account; the slender
store of knowledge acquired on all subjects instead of the accumulation
which there might have been; but, more than these, the relaxation of the
mental powers till they become incapable of vigorous exertion or sustained
effort:—
Quoniam medio de fonte leporum
Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat:
Aut quum conscius ipse animus se forte remordet
Desidiose agere ætatem, lustrisque perire.

Or, as Dryden nobly translates it—
For in the fountain where these sweets are sought
Some bitter bubbles up, and poisons all the draught.
First guilty conscience does the mirror bring,
Then sharp remorse shoots out the angry sting,
And anxious thoughts, within themselves at strife,
Upbraid the long misspent, luxurious life.
I feel myself a miserable example of this species of injury, both as
relates to the defects and omissions of my early education and the evil of
my subsequent habits. From never having studied hard at any time, no solid
foundation of knowledge has ever been laid, my subsequent reading has
been desultory and very nearly useless. I have attacked various subjects as I
have been prompted thereto by curiosity, or vanity, or shame, but I have
never mastered any of them, and the information I have obtained has been
like a house built without a foundation, which the first gust of wind would
blow down and scatter abroad. Really to master a subject, we should begin
at the beginning, storing the memory with consecutive facts, reasoning and
reflecting upon them as we go along, till the whole subject is digested,
comprehended, made manageable and producible at will; but then, for this
process, the mind must be disciplined, and there must be a power of
attention undiverted, and of continuous application; but if the eyes travel
over the pages of a book, while the mind is far away upon Newmarket
Heath, and nothing but broken fragments of attention are bestowed upon the
subject before you, whatever it may be, the result can only be useless
imperfect information, crude and superficial ideas, constant shame, and
frequent disappointment and mortification. Nothing on earth can make up
for the valuable time which I have lost, or enable me to obtain that sort of
knowledge, or give me those habits which are only to be acquired early in
life, when the memory is fresh and vigorous, and the faculties are both
lively and pliant; but that is no reason why I should abandon the design of
improvement in despair, for it is never too late to mend, and a great deal
may yet be done.

Beaudesert,[25] January 12th, 1838

On Monday went to Sutton; nobody there but Mr. Hodgson, formerly
my tutor at Eton, the friend of Byron, author of a translation of Juvenal—a
clever, not an agreeable man. The house at Sutton is unfinished, but
handsome enough. Came here on Wednesday; a magnificent place indeed,
and very comfortable house. A good many people, nobody remarkable; very
idle life. Read in the newspaper that Colburn gave Lady Charlotte Bury
1,000ℓ. for the wretched catchpenny trash called ‘Memoirs of the Time of
George IV.,’ which might well set all the world what Scott calls
‘gurnelising,’ for nobody could by possibility compile or compose anything
more vile or despicable. Since I came here, a world of fine thoughts came
into my head which I intended to immortalise in these pages; but they have
all evaporated like the baseless fabric of a vision.
[25] [The seat of the Marquess of Anglesey near Burton-on-Trent.]

Beaudesert, January 17th, 1838
To Sandon on Monday, and returned here yesterday; go away to-
morrow. It has been a dreadfully idle life all day long, facendo niente,
incessant gossip and dawdle, poor, unprofitable talk, and no rational
employment. Brougham was here a little while ago for a week. He, Lord
Wellesley, and Lord Anglesey form a discontented triumvirate, and are knit
together by the common bond of a sense of ill-usage and of merit neglected.
Wellesley and Anglesey are not Radicals, however, and blame Brougham’s
new tendency that way. Anglesey and DEATH OF LORD ELDON. Wellesley both
hate and affect to despise the Duke of Wellington,[26] in which Brougham
does not join. They are all suffering under mortified vanity and thwarted
ambition, and after playing their several parts, not without success and
applause, they have not the judgement to see and feel that they forfeit
irretrievably the lustre of their former fame by such a poor and discreditable
termination of their career. Douro is here, une lune bien pâle auprès de son
père, but far from a dull man, and not deficient in information.
[26] Lord Wellesley became good friends with his brother before his death,
and Anglesey has long been the Duke’s enthusiastic admirer and most attached
and devoted comrade.—1850.

Badminton, January 23rd, 1838
The debate in the Lords the other night was very interesting and
creditable to the assembly.[27] Brougham delivered a tremendous philippic
of three hours. The Duke of Wellington made a very noble speech, just such
as it befitted him to make at such a moment, and of course it bitterly
mortified and provoked the Tories, who would have had him make a party
question of it, and thought of nothing but abusing, vilifying, and
embarrassing the Government. This was what Peel showed every
disposition to do in the House of Commons, where he made a poor, paltry
half-attack, which was much more to the taste of his party than the Duke’s
temperate and candid declaration.
[27] [Parliament reassembled on the 16th January. This debate was on the
Address to the Queen on the Canadian Rebellion. A Bill was at once brought in
to give extended powers to Lord Durham, who was sent out as Governor
General. Mr. Roebuck, as the Agent for Canada, was heard against the Bill at the
bar of both Houses. The Bill passed, but Lord Durham soon exceeded his powers
under it.]

Lord Eldon died last week full of years and wealth. He had for some
time past quitted the political stage, but his name was still venerated by the
dregs of that party to whom consistent bigotry and intolerance are dear.
Like his more brilliant brother, Lord Stowell, he was the artificer of his own
fortune, and few men ever ran a course of more unchequered prosperity. As
a politician, he appears to have been consistent throughout, and to have
offered a determined and uniform opposition to every measure of a Liberal
description. He knew of no principles but those (if they merit the name of
principles) of the narrowest Toryism and of High Church, and as soon as
more enlarged and enlightened views began to obtain ascendency, he
quitted (and for ever) public life. I suppose he was a very great lawyer, but
he was certainly a contemptible statesman. He was a very cheerful, good-
natured old man, loving to talk, and telling anecdotes with considerable
humour and point. I remember very often during the many tedious hours the
Prince Regent kept the Lords of the Council waiting at Carlton House, that
the Chancellor used to beguile the time with amusing stories of his early
professional life, and anecdotes of celebrated lawyers, which he told
extremely well. He lived long enough to see the overthrow of the system of
which he had been one of the most strenuous supporters, the triumph of all
the principles which he dreaded and abhorred, and the elevation of all the

men to whom, through life, he had been most adverse, both personally and
politically. He little expected in 1820, when he was presiding at Queen
Caroline’s trial, that he should live to see her Attorney-General on the
Woolsack, and her Solicitor-General Chief Justice of England.

CHAPTER II.
Debates on the Canada Bill — Moderation of the Duke of
Wellington — State of Canada — Lord Durham’s Position —
Weakness of the Government — Parallel of Hannibal and the
Duke of Wellington — The Ballot — Lord Brougham on the
Ballot — Position of the Government — Policy of Sir Robert
Peel — Death of Mr. Creevey — Knighthood of General Evans
— Lord Brougham’s Conversation — A Skirmish in the House
of Commons — Defeat of Government — Skirmish in the
House of Lords — Annoyance of Peel at these Proceedings —
Brougham’s Anti-Slavery Speech — Opposition Tactics —
Brougham on the Coolie Trade — Ministerial Success — Sir
Robert Peel’s Tactics — Composition of Parties — A Dinner at
Buckingham Palace — Men of Science — The Lord Mayor at a
Council — The Queen at a Levée — The Guiana Apprentices —
Small v. Attwood reversed — Character of the Queen —
Wilkie’s Picture of the ‘First Council’ — Small v. Attwood —
Immediate Emancipation — Birthday Reflexions — Lord
Charles Fitzroy turned out — Vote on Lord Durham’s Expenses
— Lord Durham’s Irritation — Wolff the Missionary —
Newmarket — The Coronation — Lord Brougham’s Reviews.

London, January 28th, 1838
I came to town on Wednesday night, and have been laid up with the
gout ever since. Found all things prepared for a fight in the House of
Commons on Thursday, upon Peel’s two amendments to the Canada Bill.
The Tories had mustered in large force, and the Irishmen had not arrived, so
that there was a very good chance of the Government being beaten. In this
emergency Edward Ellice made a very convenient and dexterous speech, in

which he begged Lord John Russell, for the sake of unanimity, to give way.
Lord John said he would consult his colleagues and give an answer the next
day. It was clear enough what he would do, and accordingly he came down
the next day, and amidst shouts of triumph, and what was intended for
ridicule from the Tory mob, announced his intention to accept both
amendments. Peel next fell upon the Instructions to Durham, which he
treated very scornfully, and predicted that they would be compelled to
withdraw them. The Tories were in high dudgeon with the Duke at his
speech in the House of Lords, which they showed in a sort of undergrowl
and with rueful faces, for they stand in awe of the great man, and don’t dare
openly to remonstrate with him or blame his actions. There is no doubt that
his speech was essentially serviceable to the Government, and upset one of
the most promising topics of its opponents. Francis Egerton came up from
the Carlton Club to his own home after it, and said with deep melancholy
that ‘the Duke had floored the coach,’ and he described the consternation
and mortification which were prevalent throughout that patriotic and
disinterested society. They were in consequence the more anxious to urge
on Peel to make an attack of some sort upon the Ministers in the House of
Commons, and he gratified them by moving these amendments, and
vilipending the Instructions.[1] It may be questionable whether it was right
to attack the Government upon the details of their measures when no
difference exists between the opposite parties as to the principle; but
granting that it was, he acted with great skill as a party tactician. He was
certainly right upon every point. The Bill will be improved by his
alterations, and it was equally unnecessary and ill-judged to lay the
Instructions on the table of the House. The result has been a very clamorous
triumph on the part of the Tories, and a somewhat unlucky exposure of
themselves by the Government; as one of their own friends (in office)
acknowledged to me to-day, they have had ‘to eat humble pie.’
[1] [Lord John Russell adopted amendments proposed by Sir R. Peel by
striking out of the preamble of the Bill the words recognising Lord Durham’s
council of advice and the clause empowering the Queen to suspend the Act by
Order in Council.]

February 5th, 1838

Another debate in the House of Lords on Friday, and a good one,
which will probably finish the Canadian discussion. Upon this occasion
Brougham fired off another fierce philippic, and was bitterly answered by
Melbourne, who declared war against him once for all. Aberdeen MODERATION
OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. made an attack on the Government which he had
intended to make on the first debate; but as the Duke then said ‘Shall I
speak?’ he said, ‘Oh yes, do,’ expecting the Duke would make one instead,
but was bitterly disappointed when he heard that moderate speech which
gave such offence to his friends and such comfort to his foes. So on Friday
Aberdeen said what he had intended to say before, and to do him justice, he
made some strong points against the Government, which told well. He
accused them of unnecessary delay in bringing in this Bill last year, after
they had passed their Resolutions, and asserted that they shuffled it off for
fear they should be inconvenienced thereby in the election contests which
were approaching. I incline to believe this accusation is well founded, and if
so, it was very paltry conduct, and not an inapt illustration of the Duke of
Wellington’s famous question during the Reform Bill, ‘How is the King’s
Government to be carried on?’ The King’s Government was not carried on;
its interests were neglected or postponed to the more pressing interest (as
they thought, and I believe thought erroneously) of the party in their
election contests. The Duke of Wellington was expected upon this occasion
to make some amends to his party by explaining away the exculpatory
remarks with which he had before assisted his opponents. But not a bit: he
repeated the same thing, and made a second speech quite as moderate as his
first. The Duke is therefore incorrigible. My mother told him the other day
how angry they were with him for what he had said, and he only replied,
‘Depend upon it, it was true.’
I saw a letter yesterday with a very bad account of the state of Canada.
[2] It was to Lord Lichfield from his Postmaster there, a sensible man, and
he describes the beaten Canadians as returning to their homes full of sullen
discontent, and says we must by no means look upon the flame as
extinguished; however, for the time it has been smothered. On the other
hand, there are the English victorious and exasperated, with arms in their
hands, and in that dangerous state of mind which is the result of conscious
superiority, moral and intellectual, military and political, but of (equally
conscious) physical—that is, numerical—inferiority. It is the very state

which makes men insolent and timid, tyrannical and cruel; it is just what the
Irish Orangemen have been, and it is very desirable that nothing like them
should exist elsewhere. All this proves that Durham will have no easy task.
It is a curious exhibition of the caprice of men’s opinions when we see the
general applause with which Durham’s appointment is hailed, and the
admiration with which he is all at once regarded. Nobody denies that he is a
man of ability, but he has not greatly distinguished himself, perhaps from
having had no fair opportunity to do so. He has long been looked upon as a
man of extreme and dangerous opinions by the Conservatives, and he never
could agree with the Whigs when he was their colleague; to them generally
he was an object of personal aversion. Latterly he has been considered the
head of the Radical party, and that party, who are not rich in Lords, and who
are not insensible to the advantage of rank, gladly hailed him as their chief;
but for the last year or two, under the alterative influence of Russian
Imperial flattery, Durham’s sentiments have taken a very Conservative turn,
and, though he and the Radicals have never quarrelled, they could not
possibly consider him to be the same man he was when they originally
ranged themselves under his banner. In public life the most that can be said
for him is, that he cut a respectable figure. When in office he filled the
obscure post of Privy Seal, and spoke but seldom. He was known, however,
to have had a considerable share in the concoction of the Reform Bill. The
only other public post he has held was that of Ambassador to Russia, where
nobody knows but the Minister who employed him whether he did well or
ill. Now everybody says he is the finest fellow imaginable, and that WEAKNESS
OF THE GOVERNMENT. he alone can pacify Canada. Nor do I mean to say he is
unequal to the task he has undertaken, but the opinion of the world seems
oddly produced, and to stand upon no very solid foundation. If he had
continued plain John Lambton I doubt if he ever would have been thought
of for Canada, or that the choice (if he had been sent there) would have
been so approved. Why on earth is it that an Earldom makes any difference?
[2] [The actual disturbances in Canada, which had broken out in November
of the preceding year, were terminated in about a month, by the military
operations of Sir John Colborne and Sir Francis Head. The debates which ensued
in England related to the treatment of the prisoners and the future government of
the Canadian provinces.]

To return to the Canadian discussions. The Ministers have on the
whole come out of them discreditably. Peel has worried and mauled them

sadly, and taken a tone of superiority, and displayed a real superiority,
which is very pernicious to a Government, as it tends to deprive them of the
respect and the confidence of the country. Brougham’s harangues in the
House of Lords have not done them half the mischief that Peel’s speeches
have done them in the House of Commons, because Peel has a vast moral
weight and Brougham has none. In the conduct of the business and in their
Parliamentary proceedings they committed errors, especially in the latter,
and Peel availed himself of both with great dexterity and power. The front
Treasury Bench is in a deplorable state. John Russell is without support;
Rice is held cheap and is ineffective; Palmerston never utters except on his
own business; Thomson and Hobhouse never on any business; and Howick
alone ventures to mix in the fight. The Tories render ample justice to Lord
John under these overwhelming difficulties. Francis Egerton (one of the
keenest of the party) writes to my brother an account of their recent
successes, full of scorn and triumph, and proud comparisons between the
Government and the Opposition, and he says, ‘John Russell is alone—a
host in himself I admit; but Rice and Howick, the only colleagues who did
assist him, are gone down in the Parliamentary estimation a hundred
degrees. I certainly admire the spirit and dexterity of John Russell, and give
him credit for great ability.’ There is no doubt that the Tories have put
themselves in a better position for getting office, and the Whigs in a worse
for keeping it, than they were in before, because impartial men who look at
these debates will say that Peel and his people are the abler practical men,
and as time settles the great questions in dispute, and renders the public
mind more indifferent about those which still remain, there will be a
growing opinion that the direction of affairs ought to be entrusted to those
who display the greatest capacity to conduct them. The Conservatives
besides have the inestimable advantage of an alliance with the ‘Times,’ the
most vigorous and powerful agent which the press ever produced. The
effect of its articles, stinging as they are, is irresistible on the public mind,
and the Government have nothing to oppose to such a torrent. It is
impossible however, while admiring the dexterity of Peel in the elaboration
of his offensive measures, to overlook the selfish and unpatriotic spirit
which the great body of the Tories have manifested throughout the
proceedings. If they could have foregone the bitter pleasure of achieving a
party triumph, and shown themselves ready not only to support the
Government in suppressing the rebellion, but to join with them in rendering

the necessary legislative measures as conducive to the great object of
pacification as they could be made, they would have covered themselves
with honour, and acquired a credit for noble and public-spirited conduct,
which, as it is, the Duke of Wellington has alone obtained, and which none
of them share with him. Nor do I believe if Peel had exerted his dexterity
and astuteness in another way that he would have failed to acquire the same
moral superiority over the Ministers by pacific and moderate behaviour, that
he has acquired by hostile motions and taunting language. But his tail was
in a state of furious agitation, and so angry and dejected at the Duke’s
forbearance, that he felt himself compelled to give them the gratification of
a triumph of some sort. To the majority of his followers the Canadian
insurrection was a very pleasing occurrence, and they would have been
overjoyed if the troops had been defeated and Montreal captured by the
rebels. This would indeed have been a fine case against the Government,
and have paved the way for the return of the Tories to office—all that they
care about.

February 8th, 1838
I have just conducted to a successful
HANNIBAL AND THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.
termination a negotiation (through Allen) between Sir George Murray and
Macvey Napier, and Murray is to write the article on the Duke’s Despatches
in the ‘Edinburgh Review.’[3] I am rather surprised at their persuasion that
Murray will execute the task so well, and I hope it may turn out so. They
have employed the handsomest language in praise of the Duke and towards
Murray. [He did it very ill: his articles (he wrote two) were very poor
performances.]
[3] [Mr. Macvey Napier was at this time editor of the ‘Edinburgh Review.’]

February 11th, 1838
I suppose all great generals have necessarily some qualities in
common; even Vendôme, an indolent and beastly glutton and voluptuary,
was capable of prodigious exertions and of activity not to be surpassed.

There is a great deal in the character of Hannibal (as drawn by Livy) which
would apply to the Duke of Wellington; only, instead of being stained with
the vices which are ascribed to the Carthaginian general, the Duke is
distinguished for the very opposite virtues.
‘Nunquam ingenium idem ad res diversissimas, 1. parendum atque
imperandum, habilius fuit, itaque haud facile discerneres, utrum imperatori,
an exercitui, carior esset: 2. Neque Hasdrubal alium quemquam præficere
malle, ubi quid fortiter ac strenuè agendum esset, neque milites alio duce
plus confidere aut audere. 3. Plurimum audaciæ ad pericula capessenda,
plurimum consilii inter ipsa pericula erat: 4. Nullo labore aut corpus fatigari
aut animus vinci poterat: caloris ac frigoris patientia par: cibi potionisque
desiderio naturali, non voluptate, modus finitus: vigiliarum somnique nec
die nec nocte discriminata tempora. Id, quod gerendis rebus superesset,
quieti datum: ea neque molli strato neque silentio arcessita. 5. Multi sæpe
militari sagulo opertum, humi jacentem inter custodias stationesque militum
conspexerunt. 6. Vestitus nihil inter æquales excellens: arma atque equi
conspiciebantur. Equitum peditumque idem longè primus erat: princeps in
prœlium ibat: ultimus conserto prœlio excedebat. 7. Has tantas viri virtutes
ingentia vitia æquabant; inhumana crudelitas, perfidia plus quàm Punica,
nihil veri, nihil sancti, nullus Deûm metus, nullum jusjurandum, nulla
religio.’[4] ...
[4] [This passage is cited from Livy, lib. xxi. c. iv.]

1. Nothing is more remarkable in the Duke than his habit of prompt
obedience to his superiors and employers, and this shines forth as much
when the triumphant Commander-in-Chief of the Allied armies at the end of
the Spanish war, as in his early campaign in India. He was always ready to
serve when, where, and how his services were required, and so I believe he
is now.
2. In India he was employed by Lord Wellesley and Lord Lake in all
the most important and difficult military enterprises and civil transactions.
3. Napier says some of Wellington’s operations were daring to
extravagance, some cautious to the verge of timidity, all founded as much
upon keen and nice perceptions of the political measures of his adversaries

as upon pure military considerations—and ‘he knew how to obey as well as
to command.’
4. He told me himself that he was obliged to do everything in person.
His despatches show that he thought of everything, wrote of everything,
directed everything.
5. During the battles of the Pyrenees he slept wrapped in a cloak, under
a thick bush, and the shot fell so near him that he was urged to remove to a
less exposed place.
6. He was always dressed in his plain blue coat; he rode very good
horses.
7. Here ends the parallel and begins the contrast. No general ever
exhibited to the world a nobler example of mildness and humanity, of the
most perfect and invariable good faith, of severe truth, of inflexible justice,
of scrupulous honesty, of reverence for religion, and regard to the precepts
of morality. Cruelty is not a modern vice; no general is cruel in these days. I
doubt if there has been any great deed of cruelty committed since the Thirty
Years’ War, the sack of Magdeburg, and the exploits of Tilly and
Pappenheim. Turenne ravaged the Palatinate, but that was Louvois’ THE
BALLOT. cruelty, not Turenne’s. There were no military cruelties perpetrated
in the revolutionary wars that I remember.

February 18th, 1838
On Thursday night came on the Ballot, and its advocates divided, as
they said they should, 200. Lord John Russell, though ill, came down and
spoke against it. Peel made a good speech, and complimented John on his
conduct. All the Cabinet Ministers voted against it except Poulett Thomson,
who stayed away. The result is the creation of a strong impression that the
Ballot will eventually be carried; Brougham says in five years.[5] There can
be no doubt that if the Government had declared a neutrality, perhaps if
John Russell had not so deeply committed himself against it, it would have
been carried now. Some men in office, many others closely connected with
Ministers, did vote for it; a great number stayed away, and of those who

followed John many did so very reluctantly, and some certainly will never
vote against it again. Then it is indubitable that the Ballot is getting more
popular in the country, and it is not regarded with much apprehension by
many of those who are altogether opposed to Radical principles: by such as
Fazakerley for instance, a sensible man and moderate Whig, who did not
vote at all on this occasion.
[5] [It was carried, but in thirty-four years from this time. It is possible to
foresee and predict political events with considerable certainty, but very difficult
to foretell when they will arrive. The division on this occasion, on Mr. Grote’s
motion in favour of the Ballot, was 305 to 198.]

On Friday night Brougham announced to the Lords that they must
make up their minds to the Ballot after the division of the preceding night,
and yesterday morning, when we were assembled in my room before going
into court (Parke, Erskine, Bosanquet, and himself) he gave us his speech in
high glee. Parke, who is an alarmist, had just before said that he had never
doubted when the Reform Bill had passed that England would become a
republic, and when Brougham said that he gave the Ballot five years for its
accomplishment, Parke said, ‘And in five years from that we shall have a
republic,’ on which Brougham gave him a great cuff, and, with a scornful
laugh, said, ‘A republic! pooh, nonsense! Well, but what if there is? There
are judges in a republic, and very well paid too.’ ‘Well paid!’ said the other
in the same tone, ‘and no.’ ‘Yes, they are; they have 350ℓ. a year. But, never
mind, you shall be taken care of; I will speak to Grote about you.’ This is
the way he goes on. He sits every day at the Judicial Committee, but pays
very little attention to the proceedings; he is incessantly in and out of the
room, giving audience to one odd-looking man or another, and while in
court more occupied with preparing articles for the ‘Edinburgh Review’ or
his Parliamentary tirades than with the cases he is by way of hearing. The
day after the Lord Advocate’s attack upon him in the matter of the Glasgow
cotton-spinners, he received Wakley, and as he returned (through my room)
from the interview, he said, ‘Do you know who that was? It was Wakley. He
would have felt your head if he had stopped, for he is a great phrenologist.
He examined all the heads of the Glasgow men, and he said they had none
of them the organ of destructiveness except one.’ ‘Oh,’ said I, ‘then that
man would have committed murder.’ ‘No,’ said he, ‘for the organ of
benevolence was also strongly developed.’ He is in extraordinary good
humour; in a state of furious mental activity, troubled neither with fear nor

shame, and rejoicing in that freedom from all ties which renders him a sort
of political Ishmael, his hand against everybody, and everybody against
him, and enables him to cut and slash, as his fancy or his passion move him,
at Whig or Tory, in the House of Lords.
To return from Brougham to the Ballot. It is not so much the number
of 200 who voted for it that demonstrates the greatness of its progress as the
circumstances which attended the discussion. There can be no doubt that
John Russell’s strenuous declaration, besides annoying the Radicals, greatly
embarrassed the Whigs, who had either wholly or partially committed
themselves on the hustings to its support, and the consequence has been to
place the Government in a false position, for while the opposition to the
Ballot has been called a Government measure (and William LORD JOHN OPPOSES
THE BALLOT. Cowper told me the evening before the division that nobody
could keep his place and vote for Ballot), and many have been induced to
sacrifice their opinions or act against their professions upon the ground of
the necessity of supporting the Government; many others in office, who
were too deeply pledged to, or too much afraid of their constituents to vote
against it, either voted with Grote, or, what is very nearly the same thing,
absented themselves, and will have done so with impunity, for the
Government cannot turn people out for voting or non-voting on such a
question as this; the proscription would be too numerous as well as too
odious. They are much too weak for any such stretch of authority and
severity; besides, the Cabinet itself is probably neither unanimous nor
decided in its opposition to the Ballot. John Russell had, however, spoken
out with such determination, that his honour was irretrievably committed
against it, and accordingly the most strenuous efforts were made, the most
urgent entreaties and remonstrances were employed, to induce people to
support him on this occasion, but with a success not at all commensurate
with these exertions. Vivian offered to resign, but could not be prevailed on
not to vote.[6] So disgusted was John Russell with the result of this division,
that it was with the greatest difficulty he was prevented from resigning; and
yesterday it was reported all over the town that he had resigned. It is
remarkable that in contemplation of his resignation, Morpeth is the man
talked of as his successor as leader of the House of Commons, a man young
enough to be the son of half the Cabinet Ministers, and not in the Cabinet;
but in such low estimation are all Lord John’s colleagues, that not one of

them is deemed capable of taking his place in the event of his giving it up.
However, there is not much use in speculating about Lord John’s successor
if he secedes, for the whole concern would in that case inevitably fall to the
ground. Indeed, it is not likely that it will, under any circumstances, go on
much longer. When once the leader of the House of Commons has become
thoroughly disgusted and dissatisfied with his position, either a change or a
dissolution of the Government may be anticipated, and in this case any
attempt at change can scarcely fail to break up this rickety firm.
[6] Vivian’s Cornish petition was signed by 2,100 or 2,200 freeholders, the
same number who had voted for him at the election, but of these there were 200
who had voted for Eliot.

The circumstances which enable them to go on at all I take to be these:
the extreme repugnance of the Queen to any change, and the necessity in
which Melbourne finds himself on her account to go on as long as he
possibly can; and on the other hand, the reluctance of Peel to assault the
Government in front. I know no more of Peel’s opinions and designs than
what I can gather from his conduct and what he is likely to entertain under
present circumstances; but it must be his object to delay coming into office
till he can do so as a powerful Minister, and till it is made manifest to
Parliament and the country that he is demanded by a great public exigency,
and is not marching in as the result of a party triumph. If the resignation of
the present Government should take place under any circumstances which
admitted of a reunion of the Whigs and the Radicals, and of the whole re-
united party being held together in opposition to a Conservative
Government, Peel would be little more secure, and not more able to act with
efficiency and independence than he was in 1835, and this is what he never
will submit to. It is also a great object to him that the Irish questions should
be settled before he comes into office. Nothing would gladden his heart
more than to have the Government in Ireland established on a footing from
the practice of which he could not deviate, and that once effected up to a
certain point (as far as the Whigs can go) he would be enabled to go a good
deal farther; and as the man who covers in a building has always more
credit and is considered the artificer more than he who lays the foundations,
so Peel would obtain all the credit of measures which would in fact have
been rendered easy or practicable by the long-continued toils and
perseverance of others. His interest therefore (and consequently I suppose
his design) is to restrain the impatience of his followers; to let the POLICY OF

SIR ROBERT PEEL.Government lose ground in public estimation gently and
considerately, not violently and rancorously; to assist in putting them in a
contemptible or inefficient point of view; to render their places as uneasy as
possible; and to give them time to crumble to pieces, so that his return to
power may be more in appearance the act of the Whig Ministry than any act
of his own. Then he may demand, and would probably obtain, as the
condition of his acceptance of office, the support of a large proportion of
the moderate of the Whig party, and the necessity of conciliating such men
and of acquiring their support could afford him an excuse for adopting those
Liberal maxims which, though far from palatable to the Conservatives,
would be indispensable to the formation of a strong Government, as without
their adoption no Whig could with honour and consistency support him. I
care not who is Minister, but I want to see a strong Government, one which
may have a power of free action and not be obliged to pick its steps through
doubtful divisions, living from day to day, and compelled to an incessant
calculation as to the probable success of every measure, whether of
principle or detail, on which it ventures in the House of Commons. Things
are not yet ripe for such a consummation, and before the fresh fusion of
parties takes place which is necessary to bring it about, it must be made
manifest that there is no other alternative, for there is always a considerable
amount of party violence and selfish interest which reluctantly sacrifice
themselves, no matter how desperate the position they hold or how great the
good which may ensue. Though the adherents of Government put on as
bold a front as they can, there is a very considerable impression that the
days of the Whig Cabinet are numbered; however, I don’t think they will go
just yet.

February 20th, 1838
I made no allusion to the death of Creevey at the time it took place,
about a fortnight ago, having said something about him elsewhere. Since
that period he had got into a more settled way of life. He was appointed to
one of the Ordnance offices by Lord Grey, and subsequently by Lord
Melbourne to the Treasurer ship of Greenwich Hospital, with a salary of
600 ℓ . a year and a house. As he died very suddenly, and none of his
connexions were at hand, Lord Sefton sent to his lodgings and (in

conjunction with Vizard, the solicitor) caused all his papers to be sealed up.
It was found that he had left a woman who had lived with him for four
years as his mistress, his sole executrix and residuary legatee, and she
accordingly became entitled to all his personalty (the value of which was
very small, not more than 300ℓ. or 400ℓ.) and to all the papers which he left
behind him. These last are exceedingly valuable, for he had kept a copious
diary for thirty-six years, had preserved all his own and Mrs. Creevey’s
letters, and copies or originals of a vast miscellaneous correspondence. The
only person who is acquainted with the contents of these papers is his
daughter-in-law, whom he had frequently employed to copy papers for him,
and she knows how much there is of delicate and interesting matter, the
publication of which would be painful and embarrassing to many people
now alive, and make very inconvenient and premature revelations upon
private and confidential matters.... Then there is Creevey’s own
correspondence with various people, especially with Brougham, which
evidently contains things Brougham is anxious to suppress, for he has taken
pains to prevent the papers from falling into the hands of any person likely
to publish them, and has urged Vizard to get possession of them either by
persuasion, or purchase, or both. In point of fact they are now in Vizard’s
hands, and it is intended by him and Brougham, probably with the
concurrence of others, to buy them of Creevey’s mistress, though who is to
become the owner of the documents, or what the stipulated price, and what
their contemplated destination, I do not know. The most extraordinary part
of the affair is, that the woman has behaved with the utmost delicacy and
propriety, has shown no mercenary disposition, but expressed her desire to
be guided by the wishes and opinions of Creevey’s friends and connexions,
and to concur in whatever measures may be thought best by them with
reference to the character of Creevey, and the interests and MR. CREEVEY’S
PAPERS. feelings of those who might be affected by the contents of the papers.
Here is a strange situation in which to find a rectitude of conduct, a moral
sentiment, a grateful and disinterested liberality which would do honour to
the highest birth, the most careful cultivation, and the strictest principle. It
would be a hundred to one against any individual in the ordinary rank of
society and of average good character acting with such entire absence of
selfishness, and I cannot help being struck with the contrast between the
motives and disposition of those who want to get hold of these papers, and
of this poor woman who is ready to give them up. They, well knowing that,

in the present thirst for the sort of information Creevey’s journals and
correspondence contain, a very large sum might be obtained for them, are
endeavouring to drive the best bargain they can with her for their own
particular ends, while she puts her whole confidence in them, and only
wants to do what they tell her she ought to do under the circumstances of
the case.
General Evans’s appointment as K.C.B. has made a great stir at the
United Service Club, and is blamed or ridiculed by everybody. It is difficult
to conceive why the Government gave it him, and if he had not been a vain
coxcomb, he would not have wished for it; but they say he fancies himself a
great general, and that he has done wonders in Spain.[7]
[7] [Sir De Lacy Evans probably did as much in Spain as it was possible to
do with the troops under his command. But in justice to him as an officer it
should be remembered that he commanded a division of the British army in the
Crimea, long afterwards, and showed considerable foresight and ability at the
battles of the Alma and Inkerman.]

We have had Brougham every day at the Council Office, more busy
writing a review of Lady Charlotte Bury’s book than with the matter before
the Judicial Committee. He writes this with inconceivable rapidity, seldom
corrects, and never reads over what he has written, but packs it up and
despatches it rough from his pen to Macvey Napier. He is in exuberant
spirits and full of talk, and certainly marvellously agreeable. His talk (for
conversation is not the word for it) is totally unlike that of anybody else I
ever heard. It comes forth without the slightest effort, provided he is in
spirits and disposed to talk at all. It is the spontaneous outpouring of one of
the most fertile and restless of minds, easy, familiar, abundant, and
discursive. The qualities and peculiarities of mind which mar his oratorical,
give zest and effect to his conversational, powers; for the perpetual
bubbling up of fresh ideas, by incapacitating him from condensing his
speeches, often makes them tediously digressive and long; but in society he
treads the ground with so elastic a step, he touches everything so lightly and
so adorns all that he touches, his turns and his breaks are so various,
unexpected, and pungent, that he not only interests and amuses, but always
exhilarates his audience so as to render weariness and satiety impossible.
He is now coquetting a little with the Tories, and especially professes great
deference and profound respect for the Duke of Wellington; his sole object

in politics, for the moment, is to badger, twit, and torment the Ministry, and
in this he cannot contain himself within the bounds of common civility, as
he exemplified the other night when he talked of ‘Lord John this and Mr.
Spring that’ (on Thursday night), which, however contemptuous, was too
undignified to be effective. He calls this ‘the Thomson Government’ from
its least considerable member.

February 25th, 1838
Lord John Russell made a very paltry exhibition on Friday night, quite
unworthy of the fame he had acquired and of the situation he holds. When
Lord Maidstone threatened to bring before the House the language which
O’Connell had used (about the perjury in Committees) in a speech at the
‘Crown and Anchor,’[8] and gave notice of a motion for that purpose, John
jumped up and said, if he persevered in this motion he would call the
attention of the House to an imputation against the Catholic members
contained in a charge of the Bishop of Exeter with reference to the oath
required of them by the Relief O’CONNELL AT THE CROWN AND ANCHOR. Bill. Whether
this was a sally of passion I know not, but it was puerile, imprudent, and
undignified. This charge was delivered in 1836, and ought to have been
animadverted upon at the time, if at all. It either is, or is not, a proper matter
to bring before the House, but that propriety cannot be contingent upon
some other proceeding of another person, quite unconnected with it. It was
a poor tu quoque which has got him into a scrape, and will contribute to the
downhill impulsion of the Government; it is a fresh bit of discredit thrown
upon them. John Russell too has been a personal antagonist of the Bishop of
Exeter, and should have been the last man to attack him in this irregular
way. Out of all this will spring much violence and personality, and that is
what interests the members of the House of Commons more than any great
political question.
[8] [O’Connell had asserted, at the ‘Crown and Anchor’ tavern, that ‘foul
perjury was committed by the Tory Election Committees.’]

February 27th, 1838

It is difficult to conceive a greater quantity of folly crammed into a
short space of time than has been displayed by all parties in the last three or
four days, and which reached the climax last night in the House of
Commons. It began with O’Connell’s speech at the ‘Crown and Anchor,’
when he denounced the perjury of the Tory Election Committees in such
terms as he usually employs. To recommend moderate language to
O’Connell would, however, be about as reasonable as to advise him to drop
his brogue; but as he had ample notice that the matter was coming before
the House of Commons, he might have been persuaded, and there should
have been somewhere sense and prudence enough to persuade him, to
soften his tone, and to make one of those explanations, partly exculpatory
and partly apologetic, which are always accepted as a sufficient atonement
for rash and violent language; instead of which he brazened it out, and then
John Russell came to his rescue in that foolish and unbecoming notice of
his which compromised his dignity, committed his party,[9] and complicated
all the difficulties in which the House itself was placed. The fools of his
party (and on both sides they predominate in noise and numbers)
vociferously cheered this ill-judged sally, and lauded it as a fine spirited
retort. Not so, however, the more prudent of his friends, who perceived the
dilemma in which he had placed himself. Nobody in the meantime had any
clear notion of what would be done, what motions would be made or
withdrawn, and how the whole thing was to end. But as the debate promised
a great deal of personality, it was exceedingly attractive, and 517
members[10] went down to the House. Lord Maidstone moved that
O’Connell’s speech was a scandalous libel, and Lord Howick moved the
order of the day. O’Connell made a very good speech and then retired; John
Russell spoke on one side, and Peel and Follett on the other, and on the
division the Tories carried the question by nine: 263 to 254. They were of
course in a state of uproarious triumph; the Government people exceedingly
mortified, and the tail in a frenzy. The scene which ensued appears to have
been something like that which a meeting of Bedlam or Billingsgate might
produce. All was uproar, gesticulation, and confusion. The Irishmen started
up one after another and proclaimed their participation in O’Connell’s
sentiments, and claimed to be joined in his condemnation. They were all the
more furious when they found that the conquerors only meant to have him
reprimanded by the Speaker, and that there was no chance of his or their
being sent to Newgate or the Tower. At last ‘le combat finit faute de

combattants,’ for John Russell and his colleagues first, and subsequently
Peel and his followers, severally made their exits something like rival
potentates and their trains in a tragedy, and when the bellowers found
nobody left to bellow to, they too were obliged to move off.
[9] The notice was that if Lord Maidstone persisted in his motion, he would
call the attention of the Crown to a charge delivered by the Bishop of Exeter
(nearly two years ago), in which he had accused the Catholic members of perjury
and treachery.
[10] Many more, I am told, for 517 voted, and several went away who
would not vote.

In the House of Lords there had been an early, but very smart skirmish
between Melbourne and Lyndhurst,[11] in which LORD LYNDHURST AND LORD
MELBOURNE. the former drew a contrast between what would have been the
conduct of the Duke (who was absent) and that of Lyndhurst, and said that
the Duke was a man of honour and a gentleman in a tone which implied that
Lyndhurst was neither. Brougham stepped in and aggravated matters as
much as he could by joining Lyndhurst and taunting Melbourne; but when
Lyndhurst rose again to call Melbourne to account for his expressions,
Brougham held him down with friendly violence, and (as he asseverates)
was entirely the cause of preventing a fight between them, first by not
letting Lyndhurst proceed to extremities,[12] and next by giving Melbourne
time for reflection. However this may be, when Lyndhurst asked him, ‘if he
meant to say he was not a man of honour,’ Melbourne made as ample a
retractation of the offensive expressions as Lyndhurst could desire, and
there the matter ended, not certainly much to the credit or satisfaction of the
Ministers in either House. I think, however, that the Opposition have
obtained a very mischievous and inconvenient triumph, and that they would
have done much better to leave the question alone. O’Connell and John
Russell made better speeches than Peel and Follett, and the latter seemed to
be oppressed by a consciousness of the narrow, vindictive, and merely
party, if not personal grounds on which the question was raised. They have
dragged the House of Commons into a vote, which, if it acts consistently, it
ought to follow up by an indiscriminate exercise of its authority and
resentment upon all the writers and speakers who have denounced the
Committee system, and they have procured a resolution declaratory of that
being libellous and scandalous which the public universally believes, and
every member of the House well knows to be true.

[11] The discussion arose out of a question Lyndhurst put about some young
children who had been confined in the penitentiary, in solitary confinement, &c.,
without notice. Melbourne fired up at this in a very unnecessary rage, though
Lyndhurst was clearly wrong in not giving notice. Much more was made of this
omission than need have been.
[12] Lyndhurst was going out of the House to write a hostile note, but
Brougham forced him down and said, ‘I insist on my noble friend’s sitting
down,’ but though he boasts of having been the peacemaker, Lyndhurst told me
he thought, but for Brougham, Melbourne would not have said what he did.

February 28th, 1838
I met Lyndhurst yesterday, and had a few minutes’ conversation with
him. He told me, as I had conjectured, that Peel was extremely annoyed at
all these proceedings. I said, ‘Why then, did not he stop them?’ ‘Because
the great misfortune of our party is that he won’t communicate with
anybody.’ So that this most inexpedient discussion was forced on by the
precipitation and indiscretion of two or three men, against the convictions
and the wishes of the wise and the moderate of all parties; and when a few
words of prudence and conciliation might have stopped the whole
proceeding, pride, or obstinacy, or awkwardness prevented those words
being uttered. The only real consequence will be that public attention will
be attracted to the Committee system, people will think a great deal about
what they scarcely regarded before, and the characters of public men will
suffer. If the vote of the House of Commons means anything, it means that
these Committees are honourably and fairly conducted, and it will be
compelled to follow up this vote by reforming them on the specific ground
of enormous and intolerable abuses, the existence of which their vote will
have denied; and all these results, the self-stultification of the House, and
the damage to the moral reputation of its members, are brought about in
order that the Tory geese may cackle, and that men like Jemmy Bradshaw
and Sir John Tyrrell may wave their hats and their crutches in triumph.[13] It
is curious enough that the Ministers had no notion the Tories really meant to
press this matter. John Russell went down (Le Marchant told me so) fully
sensible of his own folly on Friday night, resolved to drop his motion about
the Bishop, and convinced that, as it was the interest, so it would be the
determination, of the leading Tories to quash the discussion.

[13] Bradshaw stood up on the benches, huzzaing and waving his hat, and it
was said Sir John Tyrrell (if it was he) did the same, having the gout, with his
crutches.

March 1st, 1838
Another night (Tuesday) was wasted in a fresh discussion, brought on
by a motion of Pendarves’s to let the matter drop. In the morning Lord
Howick told me LORD BROUGHAM COURTS THE TORIES. that the Ministers did not
mean to say or do anything more, and that their only object now was to put
an end to the business as quickly as possible. But John Russell, who is as
little communicative on one side as Peel is on the other, had in the
meantime, and without consulting anybody, desired Pendarves to make this
useless and abortive motion. This Le Marchant told me yesterday morning,
adding how annoyed they all were at it. Yesterday the Speaker delivered the
reprimand, and they all admitted that it was extremely well done. O’Connell
made a violent speech in reply, but clever.

March 4th, 1838
Brougham again in the House of Lords on Friday night. He attacked
Pechell and Codrington for having attacked him[14] because he had abused
the Navy in his Slavery speech, and was very violent, tedious, and verbose.
He informed the House that he had written a remonstrance to the Speaker
for not having called the two sailors to order, and he treated them with great
contumely and abuse in his speech. Lyndhurst[15] made him very wroth by
asking him ‘if he had any right to write to the Speaker,’ and Melbourne
made a short, but very good reply, reminding him that, as he had chosen to
publish his speech in the shape of a pamphlet, it was no breach of privilege
to comment on its contents. He made a great splutter, but got the worst of
this bout. In the meantime he continues to be the great meteor of the day; he
has emerged from his seclusion, and is shining a mighty luminary among
the Tory ignes minores. The Conservatives are so charmed with him, that
they court his society with the liveliest demonstrations of regard, and he
meets their advances more than half way. They are very naturally delighted

with his unrivalled agreeableness, and they are not sorry to pat him on the
back as a flagellifer of the Ministers; but though they talk with expressions
of regret of his having radicalised himself, and he would probably, if he saw
an opening, try to wriggle himself out of Radicalism and into Toryism, they
will take care, in the event of their return to office, not to let such a
firebrand in amongst them. He calls his last Anti-slavery speech his περὶ
στεφάνου, for he thinks it his greatest effort, and it was such an oration as
no other man could have delivered. The Bishop of Exeter spoke for two
hours and a half the other night on Catholic oaths, but the whole bench of
Bishops, except Llandaff, stayed away, to mark their disapprobation of his
agitation on the subject.
[14] [In their speeches in the House of Commons.]
[15] [It was not Lord Lyndhurst who asked this question. Lord Brougham
intimated that he had written a private letter on the matter to the Speaker, which
he had a right to do.]

Nobody knows what the Tories are going to do on Molesworth’s
motion on Tuesday;[16] they have kept an ominous silence, and it is believed
that the great body of them are eagerly pressing for a division against the
Government, while the leaders want to restrain them, and not meddle with
the question. Care, however, has been taken, to abstain from any expression
of opinion or declaration of intention, and they are all ordered to be at their
posts. The Whigs would desire nothing better, end as it might, than that the
Tories should support Molesworth’s motion, or move an amendment upon
it, which might bring about the concurrence with themselves of the mover
and the few Liberals (some say seven, some eleven) who will vote with
him.
[16] [Sir William Molesworth moved a vote of censure on Lord Glenelg,
Colonial Secretary of State, on the 6th of March, but withdrew it after two
nights’ debate in favour of an amendment moved by Lord Sandon, condemning
the Canadian policy of the Government. On the division Ministers had 316, and
their opponents 287 votes. The character and purport of this amendment are
explained below.]

March 6th, 1838

Great interest yesterday to know the result of the meeting at Peel’s,
when it was to be settled what course should be taken to-night. There were
meetings at both Peel’s and John Russell’s. The decision of the Tories was
deferred till Stanley’s arrival in town, who had been detained by illness at
Knowsley. In the morning there was a meeting of the Privy Council about
municipal charters, when John Russell and Poulett Thomson told me they
did not expect the Tories would give them battle; but if there was a division,
they thought Government would carry it by 20, a great majority in these
days.

March 8th, 1838
LORD BROUGHAM’S ANTI-SLAVERY SPEECH. Sandon moved the amendment on
Tuesday night, but so well had the Tories kept their secret that nobody knew
what they were going to do till he got up in the House. As there were above
200 present at the meeting, and nearly 300 must have been in the secret,
their discretion was marvellous. I was convinced that no amendment would
be moved, and was completely mistaken. The debate on Tuesday was
moderate; Labouchere spoke well, Stanley middling, but he was not in force
physically. Last night they divided at half-past two, and there was a
majority of 29: all things considered, a great one, and which sets the
Government on its legs for the present. Fourteen of the Conservatives were
absent from illness or the death of relations, so that the strength of the party
really amounts to 300 if it would all be mustered. There must always be
some casualties, and probably there were some likewise on the other side.
On Tuesday night Brougham made another great Slavery speech in the
House of Lords, as usual, very long, eloquent, powerful; but his case
overstated, too highly wrought, and too artificial. It was upon the Order in
Council by which coolies were brought into Antigua from India. He made
out a case of real or probable abuse and injustice, and his complaint was
that the Government had not sufficiently guarded against the contingency
by regulations accompanying the Order. He was followed by several of the
Tory Lords; but the Duke of Wellington refused to support him, provided
Melbourne would agree to adopt certain rules which he proposed as a
security against future abuses, in which case he said he would move the

previous question. Melbourne agreed, and the Duke moved it. As he and the
bulk of his followers joined with the Government, they had a large majority,
but Ellenborough, Lyndhurst, Wharncliffe, the Bishop of Exeter, and a few
more, voted with Brougham, and the whole party would have been very
glad to do so if the Duke would have let them. Brougham was exceedingly
disconcerted, and threw out all sorts of baits to catch the Duke’s vote and
support, but did not succeed, and he said that the Duke had again stepped in
to save the Government. The ‘Times’ yesterday morning made a very sulky
allusion to what they consider his ill-timed moderation; but he will not be a
party to anything that has the semblance of faction, and to worrying and
bullying the Government merely to show the power or to have the pleasure
of doing so. In the present instance, although Melbourne gave way to the
Duke (as he could not do less), it so happens that the Government would
have been in a majority of three or four if the Duke had divided against
them, for the Tories had taken no pains to bring their people down, and
Brougham’s great orations are not so attractive to the Lords as they are
popular with the public. He will certainly gain a great deal of reputation and
popularity by his agitation of the Anti-slavery question, for it is a favourite
topic in the country. Wharncliffe told me he walked away with him from the
House after the debate on Tuesday, and some young men who had been
below the bar saluted him as he went by with ‘Bravo, Brougham!’

March 9th, 1838
At the Council yesterday everybody was very merry and grinning from
ear to ear, mightily elated with their victory, or perhaps rather their escape
the night before, and at having got such a timely reprieve. The division has
given them a new lease, but whether it will prove a long or a short one
depends upon a thousand contingencies. The violent Tories were sulky and
disappointed, though in the course of Wednesday they began to find out that
Government would have a better division than either party had anticipated.
I had been strongly of opinion that Peel would not fight the battle, and I
thought it would be bad policy in him to do so; but any opinion contrary to
his must be entertained with diffidence, so able as he is, and so versed in
parliamentary and party tactics; and in order to form a correct judgement of
the course which it was expedient for him to adopt, it was necessary to

know both his own views as to office at the present moment and the
disposition of the party he leads.
I had no communication with any of the Tories before SIR ROBERT PEEL’S
TACTICS. the division, but yesterday I saw George Dawson, Peel’s brother-in-
law, and Francis Egerton. From them I learnt, what I had all along supposed
to be the case, that Peel was driven with extreme reluctance into fighting
this battle; that it was difficult to take no part in the discussion raised by
Molesworth’s inconvenient resolution, and that he was continually urged
and pressed by his followers to attack the Government, they persisting in
the notion that the Ministers might be driven out, and always complaining
that the moderation of the Duke and the backwardness of Peel alone kept
them in their places. The discontent and clamour were so loud and
continued that it became absolutely necessary for Peel, if he meant to keep
the party together, to gratify their impatience for action, and he accordingly
concocted this amendment in such terms as should make it impossible for
the Radicals to concur in it, it being his especial care to avoid the semblance
of any union, even momentary, between the Tories and them. Peel certainly
never expected to beat the Government, nor did he wish it. There can be no
doubt that he saw clearly all the results that would follow his defeat, and
thought them on the whole desirable. These results are, that there is an end
for the present of any question of the stability of the Government. Peel has
complied with the wishes of his party, and has demonstrated to them that
they cannot turn the Government out, which will have the effect of
moderating their impatience and induce them for the future to acquiesce in
his managing matters according to his own discretion. On the other hand, he
has exhibited a force of 317 Conservatives[17] in the House of Commons,
not only by far the most numerous Opposition that ever was arrayed against
a Government, but possessing the peculiar advantage of being united in
principle—a compact, cemented body, all animated with one spirit, and not
a mass composed of different elements and merely allied and conjoined in
hostility to the Government. The relative strength of the two parties has
been manifested by this division, and the Government have a majority of
twenty votes, which, as their people attend better than the others, may be
considered equal to a working majority of thirty.
[17] [The number of Conservatives who took part in the vote was 287; but
thirty members of the party either paired or were absent.]

This is sufficient to enable them to go on, but the majority consists of a
combination of heterogeneous materials: of O’Connell and the Irish
members, of Radicals and Whigs of various shades and degrees of opinions,
all with a disposition, greater or less, but with different (and often opposite
and inconsistent) views and objects, to support the present Government, and
containing in itself all the seeds of dissolution from the variety and
incompatibility of its component elements. But while this division has given
present security to the Government, it has also made a display of
Conservative power which will render it impossible for the Whigs to
conduct the Government on any but Conservative principles; and while, on
the one hand, Peel can say to the violent Tories that they have seen the
impotence of their efforts, and ought to be convinced that by firmness and
moderation they may do anything, but by violence nothing, on the other,
Melbourne and John Russell may equally admonish the Radicals of the
manifest impossibility of carrying out their principles in the teeth of such a
Conservative party, besides the resistance that would be offered by all the
Conservative leaven which is largely mixed up in the composition of their
own. Thus there is a reasonable expectation that from the balance of party
power moderate counsels may prevail, and that Conservative principle may
extend and consolidate its influence.
The Queen was very nervous at the possibility there seemed to be that
the Ministers might be beaten, for Lord John Russell had told her that he
could not count upon a majority of more than fifteen, and she looked
yesterday as cheerful as anybody else around her. With regard to the
measure on the part of the Tories and the case of Canada, they were wholly
unjustifiable in moving such a vote of censure, and there is nothing in the
case (however in its details objections may be urged against Lord Glenelg’s
conduct) to demand so A DINNER AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE. strong a proceeding. The
best speeches were Sir George Grey’s on one side, and Peel’s on the other.
The casualties in the division were, on the whole, unfavourable to the
Tories; fifteen of their people were unavoidably absent, not above half as
many of the Government. They contrived to delay the report of the Belfast
Committee, unseating both the sitting members, till yesterday morning, by
which means the Government got both their votes in the division; and one
of them being paired off with Lord Ramsay, who was not there, the pair

cancelled by the call of the House, this alone made a difference of five
votes.

March 11th, 1838
I dined yesterday at the Palace, much to my surprise, for I had no
expectation of an invitation. There was a very numerous party:—the
Hanoverian Minister Baron Münchhausen, Lord and Lady Grey, the
Chancellor, the Roseberys, Ossulston, Mahon, &c. We assembled in the
round room next the gallery, and just before the dinner was ready the Queen
entered with the Duchess of Kent, preceded by the Chamberlain, and
followed by her six ladies. She shook hands with the women, and made a
sweeping bow to the men, and directly went in to dinner, conducted by
Münchhausen, who sat next to her, and Lord Conyngham on the other side.
The dinner was like any other great dinner. After the eating was over, the
Queen’s health was given by Cavendish, who sat at one end of the table,
and everybody got up to drink it: a vile, vulgar custom, and, however
proper it may be to drink her health elsewhere, it is bad taste to have it
given by her own officer at her own table, which, in fact, is the only private
table it is ever drunk at. However, this has been customary in the two last
reigns. George III. never dined but with his family, never had guests, or a
dinner party.
The Queen sat for some time at table, talking away very merrily to her
neighbours, and the men remained about a quarter of an hour after the
ladies. When we went into the drawing-room, and huddled about the door in
the sort of half-shy, half-awkward way people do, the Queen advanced to
meet us, and spoke to everybody in succession, and if everybody’s ‘palaver’
was as deeply interesting as mine, it would have been worth while to have
had Gurney to take it down in short-hand. The words of kings and queens
are precious, but it would be hardly fair to record a Royal after-dinner
colloquy.... After a few insignificant questions and answers,—gracious
smile and inclination of head on part of Queen, profound bow on mine, she
turned again to Lord Grey. Directly after I was (to my satisfaction)
deposited at the whist table to make up the Duchess of Kent’s party, and all
the rest of the company were arranged about a large round table (the Queen

on the sofa by it), where they passed about an hour and a half in what was
probably the smallest possible talk, interrupted and enlivened, however, by
some songs which Lord Ossulston sang. We had plenty of instrumental
music during and after dinner. To form an opinion or the slightest notion of
her real character and capacity from such a formal affair as this, is
manifestly impossible. Nobody expects from her any clever, amusing, or
interesting talk, above all no stranger can expect it. She is very civil to
everybody, and there is more of frankness, cordiality, and good-humour in
her manner than of dignity. She looks and speaks cheerfully: there was
nothing to criticise, nothing particularly to admire. The whole thing seemed
to be dull, perhaps unavoidably so, but still so dull that it is a marvel how
anybody can like such a life. This was an unusually large party, and
therefore more than usually dull and formal; but it is much the same sort of
thing every day. Melbourne was not there, which I regretted, as I had some
curiosity to see Her Majesty and her Minister together. I had a few words
with Lord Grey, and soon found that the Government are in no very good
odour with him. He talked disparagingly of them, and said, in reference to
the recent debate, that ‘he thought Peel could not have done otherwise than
he did.’

March 17th, 1838
Went to the Royal Institution last night in hopes of hearing Faraday
lecture, but the lecture was given by Mr. Pereira upon crystals, a subject of
which he appeared to be master, to judge by his facility and fluency; MEN OF
SCIENCE. but the whole of it was unintelligible to me. Met Dr. Buckland and
talked to him for an hour, and he introduced me to Mr. Wheatstone, the
inventor of the electric telegraph, of the progress in which he gave us an
account. I wish I had turned my attention to these things and sought
occupation and amusement in them long ago. I am satisfied that, apart from
all considerations of utility, or even of profit, they afford a very pregnant
source of pleasure and gratification. There is a cheerfulness, an activity, an
appearance of satisfaction in the conversation and demeanour of scientific
men that conveys a lively notion of the pleasure they derive from their
pursuits. I feel ashamed to go among such people when I compare their
lives with my own, their knowledge with my ignorance, their brisk and

active intellects with my dull and sluggish mind, become sluggish and
feeble for want of exercise and use.

March 20th, 1838
Met Croker on Sunday, who came to speak to me about the picture of
the Queen’s First Council on her accession which Wilkie is painting. He is
much scandalised because the Lord Mayor is introduced, which he ought
not to be, and Croker apprehends that future Mayors will found upon the
evidence of this picture claims to be present at the Councils of future
sovereigns on similar occasions. I wrote to Lord Lansdowne about it and
told him that it so happens that I caused the Lord Mayor to be ejected, who
was lingering on in the room after the Proclamation had been read.[18]
[18] [It is a vulgar error, which it would scarcely be necessary to notice here
except for the purpose of correcting it, that the Lord Mayor of London has some
of the privileges of a Privy Councillor during his year of office. The mistake has
probably arisen from his being styled ‘Right Honourable,’ but so are the Lord
Mayors of Dublin and of York. But he has none of the rights of a Privy
Councillor. He is, however, summoned to attend the Privy Council at which a
new Sovereign is proclaimed, but having heard the Proclamation he retires
before the business of the Council is commenced. See infra, March 27th.]

It is a very trite observation, that no two people are more different than
the same man at different periods of his life, and this was illustrated by an
anecdote Lord Holland told us of Tom Grenville last night—Tom Grenville,
so mild, so refined, adorned with such an amiable, venerable, and decorous
old age. After Lord Keppel’s acquittal there were riots, and his enthusiastic
friends with a zealous mob attacked the houses of his enemies; among
others they assaulted the Admiralty, the chiefs of which were obnoxious for
their supposed ill-usage of him. The Admiralty was taken by storm, and
Tom Grenville was the second man who entered at the breach!

March 23rd, 1838
On Wednesday I attended a Levée and Council. The Queen was
magnificently dressed, and looked better than I ever saw her. Her

complexion is clear and has the brightness of youth; the expression of her
eyes is agreeable. Her manner is graceful and dignified and with perfect
self-possession. I remarked how very civil she was to Brougham, for she
spoke to him as much as to anybody. He was in high good-humour after it.
Yesterday we had a Judicial Committee, with a great judicial
attendance: the Chancellor, Lord Lyndhurst, Brougham, the Vice-
Chancellor, Lord Abinger, Lord Langdale, and Tom Erskine, with the Lord
President. It was to consider a petition of certain apprentices in British
Guiana, who wanted to stay execution of the judgement of a Court there.
Glenelg had it referred to the Privy Council Committee in order to shift the
responsibility from himself. He expected that Brougham would get hold of
the case and make a clatter about it; but at the Board Brougham treated it
purely upon legal grounds, and was adverse to the prayer of the petition.
They had come (i.e., the Chancellor, Lyndhurst, and Brougham) from
the House of Lords, where they had been reversing Lyndhurst’s famous
judgement in ‘Small v. Attwood.’ Lyndhurst was very hoarse, having just
made a long speech in support of his former judgement; but the Chancellor
and Devon had spoken against, and Brougham was prepared to side with
them. Sic transit gloria! It was this judgement which was so lauded and
admired at the time, and upon which, more than upon any other, or even
upon the THE QUEEN’S ATTACHMENT TO WILLIAM IV. general tenor of his decisions,
Lyndhurst’s great judicial fame was based; and now it turns out that,
although it was admirable in the execution, it was bad in point of law.[19]
[19] [The main question in the celebrated case of Small v. Attwood was
whether the sale of certain ironworks in Staffordshire, by Mr. Attwood, to the
British Iron Company, should be set aside for what, in the Courts of Equity, is
termed fraud. Lord Lyndhurst, as Chief Baron of the Exchequer, held that an
amount of misrepresentation had been practised by the vendor, which annulled
the sale. The House of Lords was of opinion that if the purchasers had paid too
much for the property, it was their own fault. This decision rested, of course, on
the special circumstances of the case. It was argued with great ability by Serjeant
Wilde and Mr. Sugden, who received fees in this case to an amount previously
unknown to the Bar. It is remarkable that Lord Lyndhurst sat on the appeal from
his own judgement and supported it; the fifth vote, which decided the case, was
that of Lord Devon, who had never held a judicial office.]

March 25th, 1838

Lady Cowper told me yesterday that the Queen said to Lord
Melbourne, ‘the first thing which had convinced her he was worthy of her
confidence was his conduct in the disputes at Kensington last year about her
proposed allowance,’ in which, though he knew that the King’s life was
closing, he had taken his part. She considered this to be a proof of his
honesty and determination to do what he thought right. Though she took no
part, and never declared herself, it is evident that she, in her heart, sided
with the King on that occasion. It is difficult to attribute to timidity that
command over herself and passive obedience which she showed in her
whole conduct up to the moment when she learnt that she was Queen; and
from that instant, as if inspired with the genius and the spirit of Sixtus V.,
she at once asserted her dignity and her will. She now evinces in all she
does an attachment to the memory of her uncle, and it is not to be doubted
that, in the disputes which took place between him and her mother, her
secret sympathies were with the King; and in that celebrated scene at
Windsor, when the King made so fierce an attack upon the Duchess’s
advisers, and expressed his earnest hope that he might live to see the
majority of his niece, Victoria must have inwardly rejoiced at the expression
of sentiments so accordant with her own. Her attentions and cordiality to
Queen Adelaide, her bounty and civility to the King’s children, and the
disgrace of Conroy, amply prove what her sentiments have all along been.

March 27th, 1838
Went yesterday to sit to Wilkie for the picture of the Queen’s First
Council. The likenesses are generally pretty good, but it is a very unfaithful
representation of what actually took place. It was, of course, impossible to
preserve all the details without sacrificing the effect, but the picture has
some glaring improprieties, which diminish its interest, and deprive it of all
value as an historical piece. There were ninety-seven Privy Councillors
present on the occasion, and among them most of the conspicuous men of
the time. He has introduced as many figures as he well could, but has made
a strange selection, admitting very ordinary men, such as Lord Burghersh
and Lord Salisbury, while Brougham and Stanley do not find places. He
told me that great anxiety prevailed to be put into this picture, and many
pressing applications had been made; and as only vain and silly men would

make them, and importunity generally prevails to a great extent, it ends in
the sacrifice of the picture by substituting these undistinguished intruders in
place of the celebrated persons who are so much better entitled to be there.
Then he has painted the Lord Mayor of London and the Attorney-General,
who, not being Privy Councillors, could not be present when the Queen was
sitting in Council; but they both entreated to be put in the picture, and each
asserted that he was actually present. Yesterday I remonstrated with Wilkie,
who had no good reason to give; indeed, none, except that they both said
they were present, and that the Attorney had described to him what passed.
The fact was this: when the Lords assemble they order the Queen to be
proclaimed, and when the Proclamation is read the doors are thrown open,
and everybody is admitted. The Lord Mayor came in together with several
Common Councilmen and a multitude of other persons. When this is over
they are all obliged to retire, and I called out from the head of the table that
‘everybody except Privy Councillors would have the goodness to retire.’
WILKIE’S PICTURE OF THE FIRST COUNCIL. It was necessary to clear the room before
Her Majesty could hold her Privy Council. The people did retire, slowly and
lingeringly, and some time afterwards, espying the fur and scarlet of the
Lord Mayor, I requested somebody (I forget whom) to tell him he must
retire, and he did leave the room. Shortly after the Queen entered, and the
business of the Council commenced. The impossibility of getting the
summonses to two hundred and twenty Privy Councillors conveyed in time
caused the greatest irregularity in the arrivals, and the door was continually
opened to admit fresh comers. In such a scene of bustle and confusion, and
in a room so crowded, it is extremely probable that the Lord Mayor and the
Attorney-General smuggled themselves back into the apartment, and that
they were (very improperly) spectators of what passed; but that forms no
reason why they should be represented in an historical picture as actors in a
ceremonial with which they had, and could have, no concern. Wilkie was
very anxious to have Lord Conyngham in the picture, but both he and
Albert Conyngham decided that it would be improper, because not only he
was not present, but according to etiquette could not be present, as it was
his duty to remain in constant attendance upon the body of the late King up
to the moment of his breaking his wand over his coffin.
Yesterday Brougham spoke for four hours and a half in the House of
Lords, upon the appeal of ‘Small v. Attwood,’ concurring with the

Chancellor in reversing Lyndhurst’s judgement, and evidently bent upon
making a display of judicial eloquence which should eclipse that of
Lyndhurst himself. This judgement has made a great sensation in the world,
especially in the commercial world. I met the Vice-Chancellor, who had
come from the House of Lords, and who told me of Brougham’s speech,
and the final decree; he said he really knew nothing of the case, but from
what he heard he was inclined to believe the reversal was right. Lyndhurst,
however, persists in the correctness of his own judgement.

March 30th, 1838
Lord Eliot’s motion about Spain came to a ridiculous end on
Wednesday. When the debate was resumed at five o’clock very few people
were present; they were chattering and making a noise; nobody heard the
Speaker when he put the question; and so they divided 72 to 60, the
Ministers (or Minister, for none was present but John Russell) not knowing
on which side there would be a majority. The Tories were very angry, and
wanted to renew the discussion in another form, but after a little wrangle
this project dropped. It was a foolish, useless motion, and deserved no
better end.
On Wednesday afternoon I found Downing Street thronged with rival
deputations of West Indians and Quakers, which had both been with
Melbourne. Out of Brougham’s flaming speeches on Anti-slavery a tempest
has arisen, which threatens the West Indians with sudden and unforeseen
ruin in the shape of immediate emancipation.[20] It is always easy to get up
anti-slavery petitions and to excite a benevolent indignation against slavery
in any shape, and Brougham has laid hold of this easy mode of inflaming
the public mind in his usual daring, unscrupulous, reckless style, pouring
forth a flood of eloquent falsehoods and misrepresentations which he knows
will be much more effective than any plain matter-of-fact statements that
can be urged on the other side. The West Indians had no notion they were in
any danger, and were reposing under the shade of Government protection
and in undoubting reliance upon the inviolability of the great arrangement,
when they find themselves overtaken all at once with the new question of
immediate emancipation which has sprung up into instantaneous life and

strength. Their terror is accordingly great. They went to Melbourne, who
said he agreed with them, and that the Government was determined to
support them, and so they might tell their people, but that he could not
promise them to make it so much a Government question as to resign if
they were beat upon it. The leaders of the Opposition BIRTHDAY REFLEXIONS.
equally took their part, but the question is whether the tails will not beat the
heads. I never remember before to have seen any question on which so
much uncertainty prevailed as to individual votes. More than one half the
members of the House doubted, and probably are at this moment doubting,
how they shall vote. The petitions are innumerable, and men are disposed to
gratify their constituents by voting as they please on this question, not
caring a fig either for the slaves or the West Indians, and reconciling it to
their consciences to despoil the latter by assuming that they were overpaid
with the twenty millions they got by the Emancipation Act.
[20] [Sir George Strickland moved, on the 30th of March, a resolution in
favour of the termination of negro apprenticeship as established by the
Emancipation Act of 1834, on the 1st of August of the current year. The motion
was defeated by 269 to 205.]

April 2nd, 1838
My birthday. Another year has stolen over me, and finds me, I fear,
little better or wiser than at the end of the last. How we wince at our
reflexions and still go on in the same courses! how we resolve and break
our resolutions! It is a common error to wish we could recall the past and be
young again, and swear what things we would do if another opportunity
was offered us. All vanity, folly, and falsehood. We should do just the same
as before, because we do actually do the same; we linger over and regret the
past instead of setting manfully to work to improve the future; we waste
present time in vague and useless regrets, and abandon ourselves to inaction
in despair instead of gathering up what yet remains of life, and finding a
compensation, however inadequate, in resolute industry for our losses. I
wonder if anybody has ever done this. Many after damaging their health
have become prudent and careful in restoring their shattered constitutions;
many more have been extravagant and careless, and ended by being
parsimonious and prudent, and so the first have grown strong and the

second rich; but has anybody thoroughly wasted his time, frittered away his
understanding, weakened the powers of judgement and memory, and let his
mind be bare and empty as the shelves of an unfurnished bookcase, and
afterwards become diligent, thoughtful, reflective, a hater of idleness, and,
what is worse, of indolence, and habitually addicted to worthy and useful
pursuits? I do not think I can call to mind any instance of such a
reformation.
I went to Newmarket on Saturday. Mutable as this climate is, the
greatest variation I ever saw was between Friday and Sunday last. On
Friday S.W. wind, balmy air like June, and the trees beginning to bud; on
Sunday the ground was completely covered with snow, not a particle of any
colour but white to be seen, a bitter N.E. wind, and so it continued till the
sun melted away the thin coat of snow, which disappeared as suddenly as if
it had been swept away.
The Ministers got a pretty good majority, all things considered, on
Friday. Gladstone made a first-rate speech in defence of the planters, which
places him in the front rank in the House of Commons, so Fazakerly told
me; he converted or determined many adverse or doubtful votes, as did Sir
George Grey the day before.

April 5th, 1838
Lord Charles Fitzroy, Vice-Chamberlain, who had voted against
Government on the Negro question, was turned out for his vote, not angrily
and violently, but it was signified to him that he must go, and yesterday he
came to Buckingham House, where there was a Council, to resign his key.
They could not do otherwise, for Peel had sent a message to Lord John
Russell to know whether Government did mean in earnest to oppose this
motion with all their force and influence, because, if they did, he would
support them with as many of his friends as he could bring to their aid; and
the reply was that such was their intention. After this they could not pass
over such a vote in one of their own household.
The night before last Government had the narrowest possible escape of
being beaten upon a motion of Lord Chandos’s about Lord Durham’s

expenses.[21] They carried it by two, and that only because Lord Villiers
(Durham’s first cousin, and whose brother is one of his aides-de-camp) VOTE
ON LORD DURHAM’S EXPENSES. stayed away, together with Dawson Damer, from
motives of personal friendship; Castlereagh, because Durham and
Londonderry are knit together by the closest of all ties,—a community of
coal interest; and one of the Hopes, because he is going with his regiment to
Canada, and did not choose to incur the personal animosity of the great man
there: but for these secessions the question would have been carried.
Durham would probably have refused to go, and it is not impossible the
Government might have resigned. Nobody expected this close division, and
the Secretary of the Treasury was greatly to blame in not securing a larger
attendance of the Government people and guarding against all chances.
However, in these days a miss is as good as a mile, and such a division,
which in former times would have been fatal to a Government, does not
signify a straw, except as an additional exhibition of weakness and proof of
their precarious tenure of office. Melbourne yesterday looked very grave
upon it, and he had an unusually long audience of the Queen before the
Council. Palmerston treated the matter with great levity. As generally
happens, there is much to blame in the conduct of all parties. In the first
place the Colonial Minister should have made some arrangement upon his
own responsibility, and not have produced the ridiculous correspondence
with Durham, and nobody ever before heard of a Minister asking a
Governor what establishment he intended to have. Then Durham might as
well have laid aside his ostentation and grandeur, and have shown a
determination to apply himself manfully to the work entrusted to him
without any desire for pomp and expense. He would have gone out more
effectively, have acquired more reputation, and have avoided the odium and
the ridicule which now in no small degree attach to his mission. On the
other hand, the Opposition had no business to take the matter up in this
way. In such a momentous affair it is immaterial whether there is a secretary
more or less, and whether an establishment, which is only to exist for one
year, costs 2,000 ℓ . or 3,000 ℓ . more or less, and to declare that the sum
actually spent by Lord Gosford shall be the maximum of Lord Durham’s
expenditure, is so manifestly absurd that it proves the pitiful and spiteful
spirit in which the motion was conceived. Suppose they had succeeded, and
that after such a vote Durham (as he well might) had resigned the
appointment. This must have been an enormous embarrassment to the

public service, incurred without any object of commensurate importance. It
is not the least curious part of this matter that the Government were not at
all sorry that the question of Durham’s expenses was mooted in the House
of Commons in order that his extravagance might be checked; while the
Opposition had no expectation, and probably no desire, to carry a vote upon
it against the Ministers.
[21] [Lord Chandos moved, on the 3rd of April, that the expenditure on
Lord Durham’s mission should be limited to 12,000ℓ., the sum allowed to Lord
Gosford. The resolution was rejected by 160 to 158 votes.]

April 8th, 1838
It would have been well for Durham if he had started for Canada the
day after he made his speech in the House of Lords, for he made upon that
occasion a very favourable impression, and the world was disposed to
praise the appointment. Since this his manifestation of a desire for pomp
and grandeur and an expensive display has drawn ridicule and odium upon
him. His temper has been soured by the attacks both in Parliament and in
the press; he has been stung, goaded, and tormented by the diurnal articles
in the ‘Times,’ and he has now made himself obnoxious to universal
reproach and ridicule by an act which, trifling in itself, exhibits an animus
the very reverse of that which is required in the pacificator and legislator of
Canada. He was engaged to dine with Bingham Baring on Friday last, but in
consequence of his having voted in the minority the other night, on
Chandos’s motion, Durham chose to construe this vote into a personal
offence towards himself, and sent an excuse saying that ‘he had no
alternative.’ He wrote to Lady Harriet Baring a very civil note, and
conveyed his motive by implication, but quite clearly. The note was, of
course, handed about for the amusement of the company, and the story,
subsequently, for that of the town.

April 12th, 1838
Dined with Lord Anglesey yesterday, to meet Wolff, the missionary. I
had figured to myself a tall, gaunt, severe, uncouth man; but I found a short,

plump, WOLFF THE MISSIONARY. cheerful person, with a considerable resemblance
to the Bonaparte family, and with some to old Denon, with one of the most
expressive countenances I ever saw, and so agreeable as to compensate for
very plain features; eyes that become suddenly illuminated when he is
warmed by his subject, and a voice of peculiar sweetness and power of
intonation. He came prepared to hold forth, with his Bible in his pocket, and
accordingly after dinner we gathered round him in a circle, and he held
forth. It would be no easy matter to describe a discourse which lasted a
couple of hours, or indeed to say very precisely what it was about. It was a
rambling, desultory reference to his travels and adventures in fluent and
sometimes eloquent language, and not without an occasional dash of
humour and drollery. He illustrated the truth of the Scriptures by examples
drawn from his personal observation and the habits, expressions, and belief
of the present inhabitants of Palestine, and he spoke with evident sincerity
and enthusiasm. He sang two or three hymns as specimens of the psalmody
now in use at Jerusalem. The great fault of his discourse was its length and
desultory character, leaving no strong and permanent impression on the
mind. He subsequently gave us a second lecture upon the Millennium,
avowing his belief that it is near at hand; he ‘hoped and believed that it
would take place in 1847,’ and he proceeded to show that this was to be
inferred from the prophecies of Daniel, and that the numbers in that book,
rightly explained, bore this meaning. He told us that he had learnt fourteen
languages, and had preached in nine.

May 7th, 1838
For three weeks past entirely engrossed by Newmarket, with the same
mixed feelings of disgust at the nature of the occupation, and satisfaction at
the success attending it. I won 2,000ℓ. by the two weeks, and if I meet with
no reverse am rapidly acquiring the means of paying off my debts. Then I
propose to live not for myself alone (as I earnestly hope), but that I may feel
the desire of contributing to the enjoyments of others. I hope as I become
rich (and if I get out of debt I shall be rich) I may not become grasping and
avaricious, and acquire a taste for hoarding money merely for hoarding’s
sake. When I see how insensibly, and under what plausible pretexts, this

passion steals upon others, I tremble lest I should become a victim to it
myself.
I know of nothing, in the world of politics. There has been much
foolish chatter about the Coronation, and whether there should be a banquet
or no; the Tories calling out for one because the Whig Government have
settled that there should not be any. The Duke of Wellington, as usual,
sensible, and above such nonsense; says it will all do very well, and that the
Palace of Westminster having been destroyed by fire, a banquet and
procession would not be feasible, as there exist no apartments in which the
arrangements could be made. He rebuked his Tory Lords the other night
when they made a foolish attack on Melbourne about M’Hale signing
himself John Tuam. Every day he appears a greater man.
I have read hardly anything all this time but two reviews in the
‘Edinburgh’—Brougham’s most remarkable paper upon Lady Charlotte
Bury’s book, the composition of which I saw with my own eyes; the other is
Stephen’s review of Wilberforce’s Life. Nothing can be more admirable
than the characters which Brougham has given of the celebrated people of
that day—George III., George IV., Eldon, Perceval, and others; and when I
think of the manner in which they were written, with what inconceivable
rapidity, and in the midst of what occupation—for his attention was
perpetually divided between what he was writing and what the counsel was
saying—it is an astonishing exhibition of facility and fertility. Stephen’s
review is as good as possible in a very different style, and his description of
the end of Wilberforce’s life strikes me as singularly eloquent and pathetic.

CHAPTER III.
A Ball at the Palace — Aspect of Foreign Affairs — Irish Tithe
Bill — Debate on Sir T. Acland’s Motion — Death of Prince
Talleyrand — Death and Character of Lady Harrowby —
Government defeated on Emancipation of Slaves — Dispute of
Mr. Handley and Lord Brougham — Dinner at Lambeth —
Arrangement of Irish Questions — Settlement of Irish Questions
— O’Connell declines the Rolls — Naval Intervention in Spain
— Duke of Wellington’s Moderation — Marshal Soult arrives
— Preparations for the Coronation of Queen Victoria — The
Wellington Statue — The Coronation — Coleridge and John
Sterling — Lord Durham’s Mission to Canada — Lord
Brougham contrasted with the Duke — Macaulay on his return
from India — Soult in London — Duke of Sussex quarrels with
Ministers — Lord Burghersh’s Opera — High Church Sermons
— Lord Palmerston and Mr. Urquhart — The Ecclesiastical
Discipline Bill — The Duke’s Despatches — Macaulay’s Plan
of Life — Lord Durham’s Canada Ordinance — Mr. Barnes —
Canada Indemnity Bill — Lord Durham’s Ordinance disallowed
— Irish Corporation Bill — Review of the Session.

May 11th, 1838
Last night I was at the ball at the Palace—a poor affair in comparison
with the Tuileries. Gallery ill-lit; rest of the rooms tolerable. The Queen’s
manner and bearing perfect. She danced, first with Prince George, then
young Esterhazy, then Lord FitzAlan. Before supper, and after dancing, she
sat on a sofa somewhat elevated in the drawing-room, looking at the
waltzing; she did not waltz herself. Her mother sat on one side of her, and
the Princess Augusta on the other; then the Duchesses of Gloucester and

Cambridge and the Princess of Cambridge; her household, with their
wands, standing all round; her manners exceedingly graceful, and, blended
with dignity and cordiality, a simplicity and good humour, when she talks to
people, which are mighty captivating. When supper was announced she
moved from her seat, all her officers going before her—she, first, alone, and
the Royal Family following; her exceeding youth strikingly contrasted with
their mature ages, but she did it well. I was struck last night for the first
time with the great change in the Duke of Wellington’s looks; others have
noted it before. He is no longer so straight and upright, and old age is taking
possession of his features in a way that is distressing to see. He has lived
long enough for his own renown, but he cannot live long enough for the
good of his country, let what will happen and when it may. It is a fine sight
to regard the noble manner in which he is playing the last act of his glorious
life.
My brother writes me word from Paris that Leopold is deadly sick of
his Belgian crown, and impatient to abdicate, thinking that it is a better
thing to be an English Prince, uncle to the Queen, with 50,000ℓ. a year, than
to be monarch of a troublesome vulgar little kingdom which all its
neighbours regard with an evil or a covetous eye. Louis Philippe is in a
mighty fright about it, and he is right, for Leopold’s abdication would be
almost sure to disturb the peace of Europe. Stanley thinks the peace of
Europe will be disturbed, and that speedily, by the great antagonistic forces
of religion growing out of the Prussian disputes between the Court of Berlin
and the Archbishop of Cologne; this he told me the other day, and said
people were little aware of what a religious storm was brewing; but his
opinions are not to be trusted very confidently, especially when religion is
concerned in them.

May 13th, 1838
The world was astonished by Sir Thomas Acland giving notice of a
motion, which comes on to-morrow, for expunging from the Journals the
famous Appropriation Resolution which turned out Peel’s Government.[1] It
was doubted at first whether this was a spurt of his own or a concerted
project, but it turns out to have been the latter. The Government think it a

good thing for them, as they count THE APPROPRIATION CLAUSE MAINTAINED. upon a
certain majority, and I am quite unable to see the use of such a motion as
this, even as a party move. The Duke of Wellington said, at the end of last
Session, that he wished to meet the Government half way, and settle the
Tithe question, and nothing can be less likely to promote an adjustment than
this attack; but I understand now they do not wish to settle it, and that they
prefer trusting to the operation of Stanley’s Bill, and say there is no reason
for accepting 75 per cent. for the clergy when they can eventually get the
whole. But they had better settle the question if they possibly can, for
experience might have shown them that if the spirit of resistance and
hostility to the Church is again roused into action, the means of vexing and
impoverishing the clergy will not be wanting, and the provisions of
Stanley’s Bill will only have the effect of making the landlords parties to
the contest, who, if they find their own interests at variance with the
interests of the Church, will not hesitate for a moment in sacrificing the
latter. It is very surprising that Peel should consent to this motion, and the
more so because his speech at the dinner yesterday is said to have been
extremely moderate in all respects.
[1] [Upon Lord John Russell bringing in a Bill for settling the Irish Tithe
question, Sir Thomas Acland moved, as a preliminary step to this discussion, that
the celebrated resolution of the 8th of April, 1835, for the appropriation of the
surplus revenues of the Irish Church should be rescinded. Upon a division the
Government proposal was carried by 317 to 298 votes.]

May 18th, 1838
At Newmarket all the week past. Since I have been away there was the
debate and division on Acland’s motion. The Government talked of 23, and
the Opposition of 15 majority, and it turned just between the two. It was a
very ill-advised measure, and I have no doubt was forced on Peel against
his judgement, and that it was not approved by the Duke; but the fact is,
they cannot manage their party. Peel’s speech was anything but good, and
smacked of unwillingness; Stanley’s was very poor; John Russell’s was
very good in facts, but ill-judged in some respects, and it is neither wise nor
dignified, nor in good taste, to keep flinging at the Bishop of Exeter as he
does; Morpeth’s was the best, brilliant and effective. Peel said to him, when

they were going out to divide, ‘I can appreciate a good speech when made
against me as well as when it is for me, and I must tell you that yours was
the best speech of the debate.’ This was becoming and judicious, and such
courtesies soften the asperities of Parliamentary warfare. The Government
had much the best of the argument, and the Tories contrived to afford them
a triumph upon the Appropriation Clause, and at the same time enabled
them to shake it off (onerous and inconvenient as it was) without further
difficulty. There was some ingenuity in doing this. I cannot help thinking
Peel likes to see his party defeated in this way. The Government think it has
been a very great thing for them, and no doubt it has done them service.
Peel’s speech at the banquet was somewhat didactic, and too much in the
style of a political sermon; but it was very good, full of excellent sense,
couched in excellent language, but it may be doubted if his moderation was
palatable to the majority of his hearers.[2]
[2] [A banquet was given to Sir R. Peel on the 12th of May, in Merchant
Taylors’ Hall, by 300 Conservative members of the House of Commons.]

May 23rd, 1838
Talleyrand is dead. He died after a short illness some day last week. It
would require a nice discrimination of character and intimate knowledge of
the man to delineate his, a great deal more of both than I possess, therefore I
shall not attempt it. During the period of his embassy in England I lived a
good deal with him, his house being always open to me, and I dined there
en famille whenever I pleased. Nothing could be more hospitable, nothing
more urbane and kind than he was; and it was fine to see, after his stormy
youth and middle age, after a life spent in the very tempest and whirlwind
of political agitation, how tranquilly and honourably his declining years
ebbed away. Still retaining his faculties unimpaired, and his memory stored
with the recollections of his extraordinary and eventful career, and an
inexhaustible mine of anecdotes, his delight was to narrate, which he used
to do with an abundance, a vivacity, and a finesse peculiar to himself, and to
the highest degree interesting and attractive. No name was once held in
greater detestation in England than that of Talleyrand. He was looked upon
universally as a sink of moral and political profligacy. Born at the end of
Louis XV.’s reign, and bred up in the social pleasures and corruptions of

DEATH OF TALLEYRAND. that polite but vicious aristocracy, he was distinguished
in his early youth for his successful gallantries, for the influence he
obtained over women, and the dexterity with which he converted it to his
advancement. A debauched abbé and bishop, one of the champions and then
one of the victims of the Revolution, afterwards (having scrambled through
the perilous period of Terrorism) discarding his clerical character, he
became the Minister of the Consulate and the Empire, and was looked upon
all over Europe as a man of consummate ability, but totally destitute of
principle in public or in private life. Disgraced by Napoleon, he reappeared
after his fall, and was greatly concerned in the restoration of the Bourbons.
For a short time only employed, but always treated by them with
consideration and respect, the Revolution of July again brought Talleyrand
prominently on the stage, and, to the surprise of all men, he accepted the
embassy to London. The years he passed here were probably the most
peaceful of his life, and they served to create for him a reputation altogether
new, and such as to cancel all former recollections. His age was venerable,
his society was delightful, and there was an exhibition of conservative
wisdom, ‘of moderate and healing counsels,’ in all his thoughts, words, and
actions very becoming to his age and station, vastly influential from his
sagacity and experience, and which presented him to the eyes of men as a
statesman like Burleigh or Clarendon for prudence, temperance, and
discretion. Here therefore he acquired golden opinions, and was regarded
by all ranks and all parties with respect, and by many with sincere regard.
When he was attacked in the House of Lords the Duke of Wellington rose in
his defence, and rebuked the acrimony of his own friends. Talleyrand was
deeply affected at this behaviour of the Duke. I regret much not having
availed myself of the opportunities I might have had to listen to and record
the talk of Talleyrand, but the fact is, he was so inarticulate, and I so deaf,
that the labour would have been greater than I could go through for the
object. The account which my brother has sent me of the circumstances
which preceded his death, and of his reconciliation with the Church, are
very curious.[3] He had always desired to die at Valençay, in order to avoid
the scandal which he apprehended there might be in Paris from the severity
of the Archbishop, but it was contrived to get everything quietly and
decently settled, and he died in peace with the Church, and with all the
absolutions and benedictions that she could have bestowed upon the most
faithful of her sons.

[3] [These particulars are now published in the ‘Leaves from the Journals of
Henry Greville,’ selected by his niece, the Viscountess Enfield.]

May 27th, 1838
Yesterday, at two o’clock, died, after a week’s illness, of a low bilious
fever, Lady Harrowby,[4] the oldest and most intimate of my friends, and the
woman in the world for whom I had the greatest respect and regard. My
intercourse with her had been much diminished for many years past; such
changes take place in our social habits without any cause except those
which the lapse of time, different pursuits, ties, and habits, bring about.
There is a melancholy satisfaction in dwelling upon the noble qualities
which death has extinguished, and the excellence of Lady Harrowby
demands a brief tribute of affection and admiration from those who, having
best known her virtues, have the greatest reason to deplore, and are best
able to appreciate, her loss. She had a mind of masculine strength united
with a heart of feminine softness; for while she was resolute and
determined, and had firmness and courage to bear up against the heaviest
afflictions, she had no coldness or insensibility in her temperament, but was
endowed with the tenderest and warmest affections. She was not by nature
imaginative, but her understanding was excellent and utterly devoid of
lumber and affectation. She had the sound practical sense of a vigorous and
healthy mind, without a particle of vanity or conceit; she never attempted to
plunge out of her depth, or to soar beyond the level of her comprehension
and her knowledge. Her conversation therefore was CHARACTER OF LADY
HARROWBY. happily described by an old and attached friend and very
competent judge, when he said of it that ‘her talk was so crisp.’[5] She had
an even flow of animal spirits, was never capricious or uncertain, full of
vivacity, with a constant but temperate enjoyment of society; never
fastidious or exclusive, tasting and appreciating excellence without
despising or slighting mediocrity; attentive, affable, and obliging to all, and
equally delighting all, because her agreeableness was inseparable from her
character, and was an habitual and unceasing emanation from it, rather than
the exertion of a latent power only drawn forth by the attraction of
corresponding intellectual energies; perfectly natural both in manner and
character, honest, straightforward, sincere, and true, but with a genuine

benevolence which made her sensitively shrink from the infliction of pain.
Delivered altogether from ‘envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness,’
she was ever inclined to extenuate the faults, to pardon the errors, and to put
the best construction on the motives of others; no mean jealousy ever
entered her mind, no repining at the prosperity, however unmerited, of other
people. She drew pleasure from the purest of all sources, from the
contemplation of the success, the happiness, and the welfare of her friends
and acquaintance. With an exquisite tact, without the slightest appearance
of art, frank without severity, open without imprudence, always negligent of
self and considerate of others, all her thoughts, impulses, and actions were
regulated by the united influence of the highest principles, the clearest
judgement, and the kindliest feelings. Thus blessed in her own happy
disposition, she was a blessing to all around her. She was the ornament and
delight of society, the comfort, support, and joy of her own family. The
numerous friends who admired and esteemed her will sincerely deplore her
loss; the world, in which she never made an enemy, will render its tribute of
justice to her merit in a transient but general expression of regret; but to the
grief of her children, the bitterness of which time alone can assuage, time
itself can afford but an imperfect consolation, for so entirely was she
associated with the interests, the habits, and the pursuits of their existence,
that every passing day and hour will bring something to remind them of the
loss they have sustained. But although it has not been permitted to them to
see her days extended to the ordinary term of human life, and to be engaged
in the tender office of ‘rocking the cradle of her declining age,’ for herself it
is no unhappy or unenviable lot to have closed a useful, an honourable, and
a prosperous career in the unimpaired possession of her faculties, without
mental disquietude or bodily pain, and surrounded by all the dearest objects
of her interest and her love.
[4] [Susan, Countess of Harrowby, daughter of Granville, first Marquis of
Stafford, and wife of Dudley Ryder, first Earl of Harrowby, died the 26th of May,
1838.]
[5] Mr. Luttrell.

June 1st, 1838

Nothing has happened of any importance during the last week but the
defeat of Government upon the Slave question (Sir E. Wilmot’s motion for
immediate emancipation), on Tuesday last, and this happened by an
accident. Nobody expected an early division, and people were scattered all
over the town. Ben Stanley[6] was dining at the Hollands’. In the meantime
Lord Stanley persuaded Rice that it was better to have no debate, and that it
was neither necessary nor desirable that they should speak. Rice
acquiesced, and so they went to a division, but unfortunately before a
sufficient number of their people had arrived. It was embarrassing, but Lord
John Russell has taken measures to set the matter right before the West
Indian mail goes out. The Abolitionists, however, are determined to do as
much mischief as they can, and though they know perfectly well that
Government (and Parliament, for the Tories are in the same intention) are
resolved not to consent to alter the law, and that the Bill for protecting the
apprentices is gone out, they are resolved to agitate as violently as they can,
and, if possible, to stir up the negroes to insurrection. These men of peace
would prefer a violent commotion in the West Indies, attended with every
sort of mischief to the slaves as well as LORD BROUGHAM AND MR. HANDLEY. to the
planters, rather than abandon their own schemes and notions, in which there
is much more of vanity and the love of meddling than of benevolence and
charity. The whole conduct of Sir Eardley Wilmot, who is only the organ of
a party, proves this; for, though well aware he could take no advantage of
his resolution, and that if nothing was done to correct the effect of it, a great
deal of excitement would be produced in the colony, he nevertheless tried to
shirk the question when asked by John Russell to say distinctly what he
meant to do, and showed that his only object was to create a difficulty,
whatever might be the consequences, and to exhibit himself to the country
as the successful asserter of a principle.
[6] [The Right Hon. Edward John Stanley, afterwards second Lord Stanley
of Alderley, then Secretary of the Treasury. He was familiarly called ‘Ben’
Stanley by his friends.]

On Friday, at Exeter Hall, while engaged in the same cause, Brougham
got a severe rap on the knuckles from Mr. Handley—one of those rebuffs to
which, with all his talents, he exposes himself, from his tricks and his
violence, and, above all, his want of truth. Brougham made a speech, in
which he belaboured the Ministry generally, and many of them by name,
with his usual acrimony. Handley, who had a resolution to move, said he

regretted to see the chairman prostitute the cause for which they were
assembled by making it the vehicle of abuse of the Government, and thus
venting his spite, disappointed ambition, and mortified vanity; on which
Brougham rose in a great rage, and said he did not know who the gentleman
was who, coming at the eleventh hour, attacked him, who had been a
labourer in the cause for thirty years; to which the other retorted that he did
not know what he meant by his coming at the eleventh hour, that he had
been for many years in Parliament, and had voted against the grant of
twenty millions, and for immediate emancipation, in opposition to the
apprenticeship system, both of which Brougham had been a party to
proposing.
I dined yesterday at Lambeth, at the Archbishop’s public dinner, the
handsomest entertainment I ever saw. There were nearly a hundred people
present, all full-dressed or in uniform. Nothing can be more dignified and
splendid than the whole arrangement, and the dinner was well served and
very good. The Archbishop is a very meek and quiet man, not dignified, but
very civil and attentive. It is excessively well worth seeing.[7]
[7] [These archiepiscopal dinners were public: anyone could go who
thought proper to put down his name, which, of course, nobody did without
some claim to be there. The practice ended with Archbishop Howley.]

On Friday night the Bishop of Norwich (Stanley) stood up and fought
the Bishop of Exeter, in the House of Lords, with great success, upon the
Irish education question.

June 3rd, 1838
On Tuesday last all was harmony in the House of Commons. Peel
made a speech, in which he announced his disposition to come to a
compromise, and settle all the Irish questions. Lord John answered in a
corresponding strain of conciliation, and it was generally understood that
everything should be quietly settled, not, however, to the satisfaction of the
Tory tail, much growling being heard, both in the newspapers and among
the low retainers of the party. (Stanley told somebody, who told me, that he
thought this the best speech he ever heard Peel make.) But on Friday night
this serene sky was overcast with clouds, and all is thrown into doubt and

difficulty again. They are quarrelling about the qualification, and angry
words were bandied about.[8] O’Connell and Sheil were abusive, though
Peel and Lord John both kept their tempers. It is supposed that the Tory
party have been so urgent, that Peel is obliged to take up this ground. When
they have gone so far towards a settlement, it is probable that some mode
will be hit upon for arranging the difficulty. The mob of Tories would be
rejoiced to see everything fall to the ground. ‘Thank God,’ said one the
other night, after the renewal of hostilities, ‘there is an end of compromise.’
I am disposed on the whole (but very imperfectly informed) to think that
John Russell is right and Peel wrong, and that the former has made all the
concessions that ought to be required of him and that he can afford to make.
[8] [The measure before the House was the Irish Municipal Corporation
Bill.]

June 7th, 1838
IRISH CORPORATIONS.Walked with Mulgrave[9] (whom I met at Brooks’s),
and asked him to tell me candidly who was in the right about the
qualification, John Russell or Peel? He said, ‘talking openly to you, I don’t
mind saying both are a little in the wrong; but the fact is, the other party do
not know what would be the practical effect of the qualification they
require, and when that is made clear to them, in Dublin particularly’ (and he
mentioned some numbers and details I don’t exactly recollect), ‘I think they
will see the necessity of altering their opinions.’ He then talked of the
political effect of settling these questions as clearing away the obstacles
which now stand in Peel’s way, and said he thought it would eventually end
in some sort of amalgamation of parties. This I was surprised to hear from
him, and told him that it appeared to me quite impossible. But it is clear
enough that it is the intention of the Government, at all events, to settle the
questions, and if the Opposition will not give way, they will. They are quite
right, for it is a great thing to get the principle admitted and to have
corporations established; and if upon trial it is found that there is an undue
preponderance cast into either scale, it will be good ground for proposing an
alteration of the law.
[9] [Lord Mulgrave, afterwards Marquis of Normanby, was at this time
Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.]

June 16th, 1838
At Hillingdon, for Ascot races, from Tuesday to Friday. A great
concourse of people on Thursday; the Queen tolerably received; some
shouting, not a great deal, and few hats taken off. This mark of respect has
quite gone out of use, and neither her station nor her sex procures it; we are
not the nearer a revolution for this, but it is ugly. All the world went on to
the Royal Stand, and Her Majesty was very gracious and civil, speaking to
everybody.

June 21st, 1838
O’Connell has declined the Irish Rolls (Mastership of the Rolls). He
says that it has been the object of his ambition all his life, but that at this
moment he cannot accept it; that the moderate course which the
Government is pursuing (the abandonment of the Appropriation Clauses
&c.) and his support of that course have already given great umbrage to the
violent party in Ireland, and his acceptance of office would be considered as
the result of a bargain by which he had bartered the principles he has always
maintained in order to obtain this place; that his influence would be entirely
lost; a ferment produced in Ireland which he would be unable to suppress,
and the Government would be placed in great difficulty. He therefore thinks
himself bound to refuse the Rolls, and to continue to exert his influence to
keep matters quiet, and enable the Government to accomplish the settlement
of the pending questions, hoping that at some future time an opportunity
may occur of raising him to the Bench, of which he may be able to avail
himself. Lord Tavistock, who told me this, says no one could behave better
than he has done about it, and he gives him credit (as the whole party do)
for sincerity and purity of motive. Taking his recent conduct generally in
connexion, with this refusal, I am disposed to believe that his motives are
good, and that he is really desirous of aiding in the compromise which is
about to take place, and promoting the great work of Irish pacification, not
probably without some personal views and objects; and if the present
Government remains in, his present act of self-denial will be ‘reculer pour
mieux sauter,’ and find its reward in the Chief Justiceship whenever Lord
Chief Justice Bush retires, of which there is already a question.

The debate in the House of Lords the night before last, on
Londonderry’s Spanish motion, elicited from Lord Minto a curious fact
(that is, the fact was asserted and not denied) that orders had been sent from
hence to our ships of war to prevent by force any aid being given to Don
Carlos by the ships of other nations, and that a Sardinian frigate had
actually been forcibly prevented. It has made a great sensation here among
the diplomatists.
Another thing much talked of is the speech which Lord Anglesey made
at the Waterloo dinner when he gave the Duke’s health. He said that

‘it was superfluous to talk of his military achievements, but that
he must express his admiration of his conduct in civil matters,
especially in the MARSHAL SOULT IN LONDON. House of Lords during
the present session, when he had shown how superior he was to
all party considerations and purposes, and when he had given
his support to a Government in which it was well known he
placed no confidence, because he thought that the national
honour and interest required that they should be supported.’

Of course, a speech reported at second or third hand is not very correctly
given, but this was the gist of it, extremely well done by all accounts, not
perhaps palatable to all who heard him, but which gave great pleasure to the
Duke himself. Anglesey said that the Duke, when he sat down, squeezed his
hand hard and long, and said to him, ‘I cannot tell you what pleasure you
have given me.’ The Queen sent the Duke a gracious message, desiring he
would bring the whole of his party to her ball, which gratified him very
much, and he wrote a very grateful and respectful answer. The French were
exceedingly annoyed at the ball being given on that particular night (the
18th), and begged to be excused from attending, not angrily however. It was
unfortunate that this day was chosen for the ball, but it was accidental, and
not intended as a celebration.
Soult arrived yesterday.[10] Croker meets him with an offensive article
in the ‘Quarterly,’ brought out on purpose, and emanating from his spiteful
and malignant temper, just the reverse of the Duke, who has made Gurwood
keep back the eleventh volume of the Despatches, in which the battle of
Toulouse appears, because some of the details are calculated to be annoying

to Soult—a piece of delicacy which is very becoming. It is a sad thing to
see how the Duke is altered in appearance, and what a stride old age has
made upon him. He is much deafer than he was, he is whiter, his head is
bent, his shoulders are raised, and there are muscular twitches in his face,
not altogether new, but of a more marked character.

[10] [The preparations for the Coronation of Her Majesty Queen Victoria,
were now actively going on. Marshal Soult arrived in London as the Ambassador
Extraordinary of the King of the French, and was received with the highest
distinction and respect, to which Mr. Croker’s article in the ‘Quarterly Review’
on the battle of Toulouse was the solitary and disgraceful exception.]

June 24th, 1838
Lord Anglesey gave me his speech at the Waterloo dinner to read, and
very good it is.[11] I wanted him to let me send it to the ‘Times,’ and he told
me I might do as I liked. I resolved to consult Tavistock, who was (on the
whole) against publishing, for fear it should be displeasing to the Duke, so I
give up the idea. What he said about the Duke was this, after alluding to his
military glory &c.:—

‘But there is a subject on which I wish to say a word, and it shall
be only a word. I allude to the noble, the generous, the
disinterested, the truly patriotic conduct of the noble Duke in his
Parliamentary course. At the opening of the session the country
was involved in difficulty, and under very considerable
embarrassment; the spirit of faction had crossed the Atlantic; the
demon of discord was abroad; one of the most favoured and
interesting of our colonies was in revolt. The noble Duke saw
this, and seemed at once to decide that it would require all the
energies of the mother country to crush the Hydra at its birth.
Accordingly, when any measure was brought forward tending to
support the dignity, to uphold the honour, and to secure the
integrity of the empire, the noble Duke invariably came forward
and nobly supported those measures. But the noble Duke did not
stop there: spurning the miserable practices of party spirit, he
upon many occasions offered his sage and solid counsel to a
Government which he had not been in the habit PREPARATIONS FOR
THE CORONATION. of supporting. Gentlemen, I declare to you that
this conduct has made a deep impression on me. It appears to
me that this is the true character and conduct of a real patriot;
such conduct is, in my estimation, beyond all praise.’

[11] The impression which Lord Anglesey’s speech made was not such as
his own report of it was calculated to make. A word makes a difference, and he
was supposed to have said that the Duke had ‘separated’ himself from faction,
which implied censure on others and made it a political speech, and though
Anglesey says the Duke was so pleased, Gurwood told me that in reply he
merely said ‘He believed every man present would have done, in his place, what
he had done,’ and he afterwards asked Gurwood if he had said anything in his
reply that could annoy Lord Anglesey, which looks as if he was not so highly
pleased as the former supposed him to be. Gurwood said, ‘We were all on thorns
when he talked of faction, and the Duke replied, “Poor man, he was suffering
very much, and he is not used to public speaking, so that he did not know what
he was saying.”’ If Anglesey could hear this!

June 27th, 1838
There never was anything seen like the state of this town; it is as if the
population had been on a sudden quintupled; the uproar, the confusion, the
crowd, the noise, are indescribable. Horsemen, footmen, carriages
squeezed, jammed, intermingled, the pavement blocked up with timbers,
hammering and knocking, and falling fragments stunning the ears and
threatening the head; not a mob here and there, but the town all mob,
thronging, bustling, gaping, and gazing at everything, at anything, or at
nothing; the park one vast encampment, with banners floating on the tops of
the tents, and still the roads are covered, the railroads loaded with arriving
multitudes. From one end of the route of the Royal procession to the other,
from the top of Piccadilly to Westminster Abbey, there is a vast line of
scaffolding; the noise, the movement, the restlessness are incessant and
universal; in short, it is very curious, but uncommonly tiresome, and the
sooner it is over the better. There has been a grand bother about the
Ambassadors forming part of the Royal Procession. They all detest it, think
they ought not to have been called upon to assist, and the poor
representatives of the smaller Courts do not at all fancy the expense of fine
equipages, or the mortification of exhibiting mean ones. This arrangement
was matter of negotiation for several days, and (the Lord knows why) the
Government pertinaciously insisted on it. Public opinion has declared
against it, and now they begin to see that they have done a very foolish
thing, odious to the Corps Diplomatique and unpleasing to the people.

The Duke and Soult have met here with great mutual civilities, and it
is very generally known that the former did everything he could to stop the
appearance of Croker’s article. Gurwood told me that he begged the Duke
to write to Croker and request he would keep it back. The Duke said, ‘I will
write because you wish it, but I tell you that he won’t do it. When a man’s
vanity or his interest is concerned he minds nobody, and he thinks himself a
cleverer fellow than anybody.’ The Duke knew his man, for he flatly
refused, and intimated that though the Duke might be a better judge of
military matters, he (Croker) was the best of literary.
A great squabble is going on about the Wellington memorial,[12] in
which I have so far been concerned that Lord Tavistock got me to write the
requisition to the Duke of Rutland to call another meeting of the committee,
to reconsider the question of the selection of the artist. It is a gross job of
Sir Frederic Trench’s, and has been so from the beginning, the Duke being a
mere cat’s-paw of that impudent Irish pretender. The Duke of Wellington
himself thinks it a great job, and would be very glad to see it defeated; but
he said that ‘his lips were sealed, he could take no part, the Duke of Rutland
had been so personally kind to him, but that it was the damnedest job from
the beginning.’
[12] [This refers to the subscription for a memorial to the Duke of
Wellington, which led eventually to the strange erection of the equestrian statue
of the Duke, placed upon the arch at the top of Constitution Hill and in front of
Apsley House. Sir Frederic Trench took an active part in the promotion of the
affair, in the selection of Wyatt for the artist, and finally in the placing of the
statue, which appeared to most people who knew all the facts at the time, to be a
scandalous job and an enormous absurdity. In the year 1883 the arch was moved
from its former position and the statue taken down, to be transported to the camp
at Aldershot and erected there.]

June 29th, 1838
The Coronation (which, thank God, is over) went off very well. The
day was fine, without heat or rain—the innumerable multitude which
thronged the streets orderly and satisfied. The appearance of the Abbey was
beautiful, particularly the benches of the Peeresses, who were blazing with
diamonds. The entry of Soult was striking. He was saluted with a murmur
of curiosity and applause as he passed through the nave, and nearly the

same, as he advanced along the choir. His appearance is that of a veteran
warrior, and he walked alone, with his numerous suite following at a
respectful distance, preceded by heralds THE CORONATION. and ushers, who
received him with marked attention, more certainly than any of the other
Ambassadors. The Queen looked very diminutive, and the effect of the
procession itself was spoilt by being too crowded; there was not interval
enough between the Queen and the Lords and others going before her. The
Bishop of London (Blomfield) preached a very good sermon. The different
actors in the ceremonial were very imperfect in their parts, and had
neglected to rehearse them. Lord John Thynne, who officiated for the Dean
of Westminster, told me that nobody knew what was to be done except the
Archbishop and himself (who had rehearsed), Lord Willoughby (who is
experienced in these matters), and the Duke of Wellington, and
consequently there was a continual difficulty and embarrassment, and the
Queen never knew what she was to do next. They made her leave her chair
and enter into St. Edward’s Chapel before the prayers were concluded,
much to the discomfiture of the Archbishop. She said to John Thynne, ‘Pray
tell me what I am to do, for they don’t know;’ and at the end, when the orb
was put into her hand, she said to him, ‘What am I to do with it?’ ‘Your
Majesty is to carry it, if you please, in your hand.’ ‘Am I?’ she said; ‘it is
very heavy.’ The ruby ring was made for her little finger instead of the
fourth, on which the rubric prescribes that it should be put. When the
Archbishop was to put it on, she extended the former, but he said it must be
on the latter. She said it was too small, and she could not get it on. He said it
was right to put it there, and, as he insisted, she yielded, but had first to take
off her other rings, and then this was forced on, but it hurt her very much,
and as soon as the ceremony was over she was obliged to bathe her finger in
iced water in order to get it off. The noise and confusion were very great
when the medals were thrown about by Lord Surrey, everybody scrambling
with all their might and main to get them, and none more vigorously than
the Maids of Honour. There was a great demonstration of applause when
the Duke of Wellington did homage. Lord Rolle, who is between eighty and
ninety, fell down as he was getting up the steps of the throne. Her first
impulse was to rise, and when afterwards he came again to do homage she
said, ‘May I not get up and meet him?’ and then rose from the throne and
advanced down one or two of the steps to prevent his coming up, an act of
graciousness and kindness which made a great sensation.[13] It is, in fact,

the remarkable union of naïveté, kindness, nature, good nature, with
propriety and dignity, which makes her so admirable and so endearing to
those about her, as she certainly is. I have been repeatedly told that they are
all warmly attached to her, but that all feel the impossibility of for a
moment losing sight of the respect which they owe her. She never ceases to
be a Queen, but is always the most charming, cheerful, obliging, unaffected
Queen in the world. The procession was very handsome, and the
Extraordinary Ambassadors produced some gorgeous equipages. This sort
of procession is incomparably better than the old ceremonial which so much
fuss was made about, for the banquet would only have benefited the
privileged few and the rich, and for one person who would have witnessed
the procession on the platform five hundred enjoyed a sight of this. In fact,
the thing best worth seeing was the town itself, and the countless multitudes
through which the procession passed. The Chancellor of the Exchequer told
me that he had been informed 200,000ℓ. had been paid for seats alone, and
the number of people who have flocked into London has been estimated at
five hundred thousand. It is said that a million have had a sight of the show
in one way or another. These numbers are possibly exaggerated, but they
really were prodigious. From Buckingham Palace to Westminster Abbey, by
the way they took, which must be two or three miles in length, there was a
dense mass of people; the seats and benches were all full, every window
was occupied, the roofs of the houses were covered with spectators, for the
most part well dressed, and, from the great space through which they were
distributed, there was no extraordinary pressure, and consequently no room
for violence or ill-humour. In the evening I met COLERIDGE AND JOHN STERLING.
Prince Esterhazy, and asked him what the foreigners said. He replied that
they admired it all very much: ‘Strogonoff and the others don’t like you, but
they feel it, and it makes a great impression on them; in fact, nothing can be
seen like it in any other country.’ I went into the park, where the fair was
going on; a vast multitude, but all of the lower orders; not very amusing.
The great merit of this Coronation is, that so much has been done for the
people: to amuse and interest them seems to have been the principal object.
[13] She sent in the evening to inquire after Lord Rolle.

July 1st, 1838

This morning hit upon this stanza in Coleridge’s ‘Ode to Tranquillity’:
—
‘Who late and lingering seeks thy shrine
On him but seldom, power divine,
Thy spirit rests! Satiety
And sloth, poor counterfeits of thee,
Mock the tired worldling. Idle hope
And dire remembrance interlope
To vex the feverish slumbers of the mind:
The bubble floats before, the spectre stalks behind.’
My own thoughts about myself. Mr. Sterling, whom I met at dinner the
other day (son of Sterling, of the ‘Times’[14]), said that Wordsworth,
Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats were all greater poets than Dryden, that they
had all finer imaginations. He compared ‘The Vision of Kubla Khan’ to
‘Lycidas’ for harmony of versification!!
[14] [This was Mr. John Sterling, whose life has been written by Thomas
Carlyle, and again by Julius Hare, though it was a short and uneventful one. Few
men left a deeper mark upon his own contemporaries, not less by the grace and
purity of his character than by the vigour of his intellect. It is hard to think that of
so bright a promise of life and thought so little remains after him. Sterling was
sometimes paradoxical, and he worshipped Coleridge, which may account for
the incident related in the text.]

July 3rd, 1838
I was at the ball at Court last night to which hundreds would have
given hundreds to go, and from which I would have gladly stayed away: all
was very brilliant and very tiresome.

July 4th, 1838
A great exposure of Durham in the House of Lords on Monday night,
[15] Brougham chuckling over it yesterday morning. The impression left by
Melbourne’s speech was, that Durham had actually assured him he had no

intention of appointing Turton, and it was either so, or Melbourne had
desired him not to do so, and he went off without sending any answer. The
former discussion about Turton took place while Durham was at
Portsmouth. Everything blows over, so probably this will, but it is
calculated to produce a very bad effect both here and in Canada, and to
deprive Durham of all the weight which would attach to him from the
notion of his being trusted and trustworthy; besides, the bitter mortification
to his pride (by receiving this rap on the knuckles at the outset of his career)
will sour his temper and impair his judgement. Brougham says that if he
finds his difficulties great and his position disagreeable, he will avail
himself of Melbourne’s speech and resign. It is universally thought that he
must send Turton home whatever he may do himself.
[15] [Lord Durham took with him to Canada, on his staff, besides Mr.
Charles Buller (an unexceptionable appointment), Mr. Turton, of the Calcutta
Bar, and Mr. Edward Gibbon Wakefield, gentlemen against whose private
character much had been not unjustly said. Some of these appointments were
strongly objected to in Parliament.]

July 8th, 1838
Lord Duncannon told me yesterday that Melbourne went to Lord
Durham when he heard he was going to take out Turton, and told him that
the odium of such an appointment would be so great that it was impossible
he could consent to it, and it must not take place. Durham sulked over it for
two days, but finally acquiesced, and engaged that Turton should only go
out as his private friend. Duncannon added that Durham was much
mistaken if he thought Melbourne would endure this disobedience and
breach of engagement. Durham had made his entry into Quebec on a white
long-tailed charger, in a full general’s uniform, surrounded by his staff, and
the first thing he did was to appoint Sir John Doratt (his doctor, whom he
had got knighted before he went) Inspector-General of Hospitals,
superseding all the people there.

July 14th, 1838

At Newmarket all this past week. Nothing of consequence occurred
here except the debate in the House THE NAVAL INSTRUCTIONS. of Lords upon
Brougham’s motion for the production of naval instructions about Sardinian
ships, which was only lost by the numbers being equal. The Duke of
Wellington, according to his custom, refused to be factious, and when
Melbourne said that it would be highly inconvenient to produce any
instructions, he declared against the motion and left the House. Brougham
was furious, and many of the high Tories greatly provoked. Brougham said,
‘Westminster Abbey is yawning for him.’ Ellenborough, Mansfield, and
Harewood stayed and voted, Aberdeen went away. After all their fury,
however, the Tories are beginning (as I was told last night) to come to their
senses. The Duke was quite in the right; there is no doubt that some very
unwise and improper instructions have issued from the Admiralty, and their
purport has got abroad by the indiscretion of somebody, but we only know,
or rather suspect from public rumour, that such is the case; they have never
been acted upon if they do exist; no overt act has been done, and the
production of this document might be attended with very seriously
inconvenient consequences. Brougham cares for nothing but the pleasure of
worrying and embarrassing the Ministers, whom he detests with an intense
hatred; and the Tories, who are bitter and spiteful, and hate them merely as
Ministers and as occupants of the places they covet, and not as men, are
provoked to death at being baulked in the occasion that seemed to present
itself of putting them into a difficulty. The Duke, whose thoughts are
steadily directed to the public good, and to that alone, will lend himself to
no such vexatious purposes; he looks at the position of the Government in
relation with foreign powers, and deals with it as a national and not as a
party question. It is in this spirit that he constantly and inflexibly acts,
though not failing to give Ministers a pretty sharp lecture every now and
then. His forbearance has annoyed his own supporters to such a degree that
they keep up a continual under-growl, and are always lamenting the decay
of his faculties, and if they dared and knew how, they would gladly
substitute some other leader for him. The ‘ardor prava jubentium’ has,
however, no effect whatever on him: it neither ruffles his serenity nor
shakes his purpose. The Whigs laud him to the skies, which provokes the
Tories all the more, nor does their praise spring in all probability from a
purer or more unselfish source than the complaints of their adversaries, for
they are more rejoiced at finding so often this plank of safety than struck

with admiration at his magnanimity. Wise, moderate, and impartial men of
all parties view the Duke’s conduct in its true light, and render him that
justice the full measure of which it is reserved for history and posterity to
pay. No greater contrast can be displayed than between the minds of the
Duke of Wellington and Brougham. It is a curious and an interesting study
to examine and compare their powers, faculties, attainments, the moral and
intellectual constitutions of the men, their respective careers, their results,
and the judgement of the world upon them.
Yesterday morning I met Macaulay,[16] and walked with him for some
time. He talked of the necessity of a coalition between the Parliamentary
leaders, which might be effected, provided they would lay aside personal
feelings and jealousies; that Lyndhurst might be the greatest obstacle; he
thought a strong Government ought to be formed, one that should not live
as this does from hand to mouth, and by no means but by a coalition could
this be effected. The Radicals, he said, were clearly extinct, being reduced,
as far as he could learn, ‘to Grote and his wife;’ that he had not been
prepared for the tranquillity and contentment that he found on his return to
England; that he was as great a Radical as anybody, that is, that if ever the
voice of the nation should be as clearly and universally pronounced for
reform of the House of Lords, or any other great change, as it had been for
the Reform Bill, he should be for it too, but that now he did not think it
worth while to give such projects a thought, and it no more occurred to him
to entertain them in this country than it would to advocate the establishment
of a representative THE RECEPTION OF MARSHAL SOULT. government in Turkey, or a
monarchy and hereditary peerage in America. I told him that I did not see
how a coalition was feasible, or how conflicting pretensions could be
adjusted. He said it seemed to be a matter of course that Peel must lead the
House of Commons. I said that the other alternative the Government had
was to get rid of some of its lumber, and take in him, Morpeth, and Sir
George Grey, and so present a more respectable front—to which he said
nothing.
[16] [Mr. Macaulay returned to England from his official residence in India,
in June 1838.]

It is really curious to see the manner in which Soult has been received
here, not only with every sort of attention and respect by persons in the
most respectable ranks in life, members of all the great trading and

commercial bodies, but with enthusiasm by the common people; they flock
about him, cheer him vociferously, and at the review in the park he was
obliged to abandon both his hands to be shaken by those around him. The
old soldier is touched to the quick at this generous reception, and has given
utterance to his gratitude and his sensibility on several occasions in very apt
terms. It is creditable to John Bull, but I am at a loss to understand why he
is so desperately fond of Soult; but Johnny is a gentleman who generally
does things in excess, and seldom anything by halves. In the present
instance it is a very good thing, and must be taken as a national compliment
and as evidence of national goodwill towards France, which cannot fail to
make a corresponding impression in that country. But the French will not
meet us cordially and frankly and with an equally amicable spirit; they are
not such good fellows as the English; they have more vanity and jealousy,
and are not so hearty; still it will not be without effect.

July 18th, 1838
The Duke of Sussex has quarrelled with the Government on account of
their refusal to apply to Parliament for an increased allowance, and his
partisans are very angry with Melbourne, and talk of withdrawing their
support. The Duke began by requesting Melbourne to bring the matter
before the Cabinet, which he did, and the result was that they informed his
Royal Highness it could not be done. He was very angry, and the rest of the
Royal family (glad to make bad blood between him and the Whigs)
fomented his discontent. The Duke of Cambridge went to Melbourne and
begged that he might not stand in the way of his brother’s wishes, from its
being supposed that if they were complied with, his own claims could
likewise be urged. The Duke, finding he could do nothing with the
Government, determined to do what he could for himself, and began to
canvass and exert all the influence he possessed among Members of
Parliament, and (as he thought) with such success, that he counted upon 250
votes in his favour. He then employed Mr. Gillon to move the matter in the
House of Commons, having previously conveyed to Melbourne his
intention to do what he could for himself, but not making any
communication to Lord John Russell, and directing his confidants to
conceal from him what it was intended to do. Accordingly John Russell

paid very little attention to the motion of Mr. Gillon, which he saw entered
on the Order Book, and when it came on, he opposed it. Peel pronounced a
very warm eulogium upon John Russell’s conduct, and the motion was
rejected by ninety to forty, the Duke’s anticipated supporters having
dwindled away to that paltry number. Bitter was his mortification and
violent his resentment at this result. He wrote an angry letter to John
Russell, to which John sent a temperate and respectful reply, but his Royal
Highness has since informed Melbourne that he shall withdraw his support
from the Government, and the Duke of Cleveland has likewise given notice
that the conduct of Government to the Duke ‘makes the whole difference’ in
his disposition to support them. The Duke’s friends generally have
expressed so much dissatisfaction, that it is matter of considerable
embarrassment and annoyance to the Government, and if this was to be
carried to the length of opposition, or even neutrality, it might be productive
of serious consequences, weak as they are. But as this session is about to
close, means will probably be found of pacifying them before the opening
of the next. Much of the mischief has arisen from the want of
communication and understanding between the parties. It CLAIM OF THE DUKE OF
SUSSEX. seems strange that Lord John Russell should have been ignorant of
the Duke’s intentions when Melbourne had been apprised of them, and the
latter ought to have imparted to the former all he had learnt with regard to
them. Lord John Russell says that they seldom communicate except with
regard to matters which come before the Cabinet, and that if he had learnt
that Lord Radnor or any other peer was going to make some such motion in
the House of Lords, he should not have thought of speaking to Melbourne
about it, each managing his matters in his own way in the House to which
he belongs. But though he makes this excuse for Melbourne, it was great
laches in the latter, after what had passed, not to tell Lord John what was in
preparation, when some communication with the Duke’s friends might have
prevented the discussion. On the other hand, it was very bad policy in the
Duke not to be more open with the leader of the House of Commons and to
attempt to carry his object by force. But he had buoyed himself up with the
notion that his popularity was so great that there would be a Parliamentary
demonstration in his favour sufficient to compel the Ministers to yield, and
he now sees how much he overrated it, and miscalculated the support he
fancied he had secured. What he complains of with the greatest bitterness is
the conduct of Lord Howick in having asked Mr. Hawes to oppose this

grant: ‘that the son of the man whose administration I made only a few
years ago should have canvassed others to oppose me is the deepest wound
that ever was inflicted on me.’ He fancies (it seems) that he made Lord
Grey’s administration!
The Duke has some sort of claim, under all the circumstances. When
King William came to the throne, he told him he was anxious to do what he
could for him, and would therefore give him the best thing at his disposal,
the Rangership of Windsor Park, 4,000ℓ. a year; but immediately after came
Lord Grey’s economical reforms, which swept this away. The King then
gave him Bushey; but it was found necessary to settle a jointure house on
the Queen Dowager and Bushey was taken from him for this purpose. At
last they gave him the Rangership of Hyde Park, and he had actually drawn
for the first quarter’s salary, when the salary was done away with, so that he
has been three times disappointed, and he really is over head and ears in
debt. It is now more difficult than ever to do anything for him, because all
parties are committed, and there is a vote of the House of Commons
recorded against the grant. In his dudgeon, he talks of withdrawing from
politics, and of selling by public auction all his personal property, library
included.

July 23rd, 1838
I went the other night (Friday) to Burghersh’s[17] opera at Braham’s
theatre. A vast deal of fine company, and prodigious applause; tolerable
music, moderately sung, but a favourable audience. When it was over they
insisted upon his appearing, and, after some delay, he thrust his head out
from an obscure pit-box in which he had been sitting and bowed and
smiled; but this was not enough, and they would have him on the stage; so a
great clapping and shouting went on, among the most vociferous being the
Duke of Wellington, who enjoyed the fun like a boy, laughing and
beckoning to Burghersh, and bawling ‘Maestro! Maestro!’ till at last,
vanquished by the enthusiasm of the audience and the encouragement of his
friends, he appeared at a corner of the stage; then came a shower of
bouquets, which were picked up by Mrs. Bishop and the other women and
presented to him, and so ended the triumphant night.

[17] [John, Lord Burghersh, afterwards eleventh Earl of Westmoreland,
served in the army with distinction, and afterwards in the diplomatic service of
the Crown. He was devotedly fond of music, and composed both for the
orchestra and the stage, not without success. He died in 1859.]

July 24th, 1838
High Church has been recently reading lectures to Her Majesty the
Queen in the shape of two sermons preached at the Chapel Royal by Mr.
Perceval and Mr. Hook.[18] The Bishop of London was cognizant of Mr.
Perceval’s intention, and he preached himself for several Sundays, probably
for the purpose of keeping him out of the pulpit; but, the Bishop having had
a fall from his horse and broken his MR. HOOK’S SERMON. collar-bone, Mr.
Perceval found his opportunity. The Bishop, however, previously warned
the Queen that she must expect a very strong sermon, which naturally
excited her curiosity, and when she heard it it did not appear to her so
strong as she had expected. The Bishop’s advice or his own reflexion may
have induced Mr. Perceval to soften it. He made an attack upon Peel (that
is, upon somebody whom they concluded to be Peel), reproaching him with
sacrificing his conscience to political objects in consenting to Catholic
emancipation, not totidem verbis, but in words to this effect. Hook’s sermon
appears to have been the stronger of the two. He told the Queen that the
Church would endure let what would happen to the throne. On her return to
Buckingham House, Normanby, who had been at the chapel, said to her,
‘Did not your Majesty find it very hot?’ She said, ‘Yes, and the sermon was
very hot too.’
[18] [Afterwards Dean of Chichester, and author of the ‘Lives of the
Archbishops.’]

July 28th, 1838
The letters between Lord Palmerston and Mr. Urquhart which
appeared two days ago in the ‘Times,’ have made a very great sensation,
and thrown the friends of the former into great alarm. Urquhart’s letter is so
enormously long, so overlaid with matter, and so stuffed with acrimonious

abuse, that it is difficult to seize the points of it; but that to which general
attention is directed is the positive assertion of Lord Palmerston that he had
nothing to do with the ‘Portfolio,’ and the announcement of Urquhart that in
consequence of such denegation he will demonstrate that Palmerston had
everything to do with it. He is said to make exceedingly light of it, and
asserts that he can clear himself of all the imputations Mr. Urquhart seeks to
cast upon him. He has, however, committed a great blunder in entering into
a paper war at all. In his letter he correctly lays down the principle of the
irresponsibility and omnipotence of a Secretary of State in relation to his
agents, and there he ought to have stopped, and, acting on that principle,
have declined any controversy; but he entered into it, and descended from
his pedestal; and, though his letter is clever and well written, there are some
very weak points in it, and some things which incline one to doubt his
veracity. Who, for example, can believe that when Strangways[19] gave him
a letter from Urquhart containing (as he informed him) a statement of his
conduct, which conduct he thought so reprehensible that he had desired
Strangways to admonish and caution him, he should have put this letter in
his pocket, and not even have broken the seal till a long time after? The
Government people are evidently in great consternation, and it is very
remarkable that not a line of contradiction has appeared in any of
Palmerston’s papers. No less than three men (Labouchere, Morpeth, and Le
Marchant) spoke to me about it yesterday, full of doubt and anxiety, and
very curious to know ‘what people said.’
[19] [The Hon. William Strangways, afterwards Earl of Ilchester, was at this
time Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. Mr. Strangways was an old
and intimate friend of Prince Adam Czartoryski, by whom the papers were
brought to England which afterwards appeared in the ‘Portfolio,’ and it was
through this Polish connexion that Mr. Urquhart was introduced to the notice of
the Under-Secretary. Lord Palmerston was at that time (about 1834) strongly
anti-Russian, and was perfectly cognizant of several undertakings which
originated with Prince Adam Czartoryski, and his more energetic nephew, Count
Ladislas Zamoyski, who had very much the ear of the English Government at
that time. These undertakings were the publication of the ‘Portfolio,’ Mr. George
Bell’s expedition to the coast of Circassia in the ‘Vixen,’ which was seized there,
and the attempt to establish a Consulate in the then Free-Town of Cracow. But
after having encouraged and promoted these objects for some time in
conjunction with Mr. Strangways, Lord Palmerston suddenly became violently
opposed to them, and disclaimed all knowledge of those whom he had employed.
See infra, January 30th, 1839.]

Le Marchant told me that Palmerston was a strange mixture of caution
and imprudence; that as long as he did not commit himself on paper he
thought himself safe; that he would see any newspaper editor who called on
him, and often communicate to such persons matters of great delicacy; yet,
at the very time he would do this, he demurred to a request that was made to
him to communicate freely with him (Le Marchant) and Drummond, who
were managing the press on the part of Government; and this reserve was
exercised towards him when he was Brougham’s private secretary,
cognisant of all that Brougham knew (which, of course, was everything),
and frequently employed to communicate MR. URQUHART AND LORD PALMERSTON.
verbally between the Chancellor and his colleagues on the most confidential
matters.
The history of Urquhart is this: William IV. was nearly mad upon the
subject of Russia, and Sir Herbert Taylor[20] either partook of his opinions
or ministered to his prejudices. Urquhart, who had been in the East,
published a violent anti-Russian pamphlet, which made some noise and
which recommended him to the notice of Taylor, and through him to that of
the King. His Majesty took up Urquhart, and recommended him to
Palmerston. Palmerston was not sorry to have an opportunity of gratifying
the King, with whom the Ministers were never on cordial terms, and
probably he was not then disinclined to act (as far as he dared) upon
Urquhart’s views. Accordingly he appointed him—a very extraordinary
appointment it was thought at the time—Secretary of Embassy at
Constantinople. There can be no doubt that Urquhart considered himself
appointed to that station on account of the opinions he professed, and for
the express purpose of giving them effect. He was very likely told so by the
King, and left to infer as much by Palmerston. The letter of Strangways,
which has appeared in the course of the correspondence, shows that the
communications from the Foreign Office were in this spirit. At the same
time Palmerston took care not to commit himself in writing. When the death
of the King was approaching, Palmerston foresaw that he would have to
change his tone with regard to Eastern politics, and consequently that it
would be convenient to throw over Urquhart, which he proceeded to do.
This man, first his tool and then his victim, turned out to be bold,
unprincipled, and clever, and finding his prospects ruined and his reputation
damaged, he turned fiercely upon him whom he considered as his

persecutor and betrayer. It is fortunate for Palmerston that the matter has
broken out at the end of the Session when people are all on the wing and
there is not time to sift anything to the bottom, but still the charges are so
grave, and they involve such serious consequences and considerations, that
it is absolutely necessary the truth should be manifested one way or another.
[21] The Foreign Ministers all believe that Palmerston is guilty. Dedel told
me last night that Pozzo had said to him, ‘Quant à moi, je ne dirai pas un
mot; mais si tout cela est vrai, il faut aller aux galères pour trouver un pareil
forfait.’ Graham said to me that he was sincerely sorry for it, inasmuch as
he had personally a regard for Palmerston; that no man was ever a better,
more honourable, or kinder colleague, more anxious to smooth differences
and adjust disputes; that he could not attack him in the House of Commons,
neither would Stanley; that Peel, who hated him, would not dislike doing
so, but that he was too cautious to trust implicitly to Urquhart’s assertions,
and to commit himself by acting on them; that there was nobody else
capable of dealing with the subject well, and that Canning[22] ought not, for
the same reasons (only much stronger in his case) that restrained himself
and Stanley.
[20] [King William’s Private Secretary.]
[21] The truth never was manifested, the matter blew over, very little ever
was said about it in the newspapers, Urquhart’s revelations never appeared, the
public forgot it, and the whole affair died a natural death.—January 6th, 1839.
[22] [Sir Stratford Canning, afterwards Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, was at
this time a Member of the House of Commons.]

The bishops were at loggerheads in the House of Lords the other night
on the Ecclesiastical Discipline Bill. Exeter (Phillpotts), in a most
venomous speech, attacked the Archbishop, whose mildness was stimulated
into an angry reply; but Exeter gained his point, for both Brougham and the
Duke were for postponing the Bill. Phillpotts would have made a great
bishop in the days of Bonner and Gardiner, or he would have been a Becket,
or, still better, a Pope either in the palmy days of papal power or during the
important period of reaction which succeeded the Reformation. He seems
cast in the mould of a Sixtus.

August 3rd, 1838

The following panegyric on the sixth volume of the Duke’s
Despatches, evidently written by no common hand, was given by Dr.
Ferguson to Edward Villiers,[23] the Doctor not knowing the author:—

‘The sixth volume appears to me
MACAULAY’S LIFE IN INDIA.
among the most extraordinary of human productions, ancient or
modern. It is not the mere power of sagacity, vigilance, acute
and comprehensive reasoning, or, in short, the intellectual
perfection of the book, various and wonderful as it is, which
affects my mind most deeply: it is the love of justice, the love of
truth, the love of humanity, the love of country, the fine temper,
the tolerance of error, the mildness of reproof, the superb
morality of the great and masculine spirit displayed throughout
it, which it is impossible for an honest man to observe without
affection and admiration.’
[23] [The Hon. Edward Ernest Villiers, a younger brother of Lord
Clarendon, filled at this time the office of Clerk of the Clergy Returns to the
Privy Council.]

August 8th, 1838
James Stephen yesterday was talking to me about Macaulay. He came
to him soon after his return from India, and told him that when there he
used to get up at five every morning (as everybody else did), and till nine or
ten he read Greek and Latin, and went through the whole range of classical
literature of every sort and kind; that one day in the Government library he
had met with the works of Chrysostom, fourteen Greek folios, and that he
had taken home first one volume and then another, till he had read the
whole through, that is, he had not read every word, because he had found
that it contained a great deal of stuff not worth reading, but he had carefully
looked at every page, and had actually read the greater part. His object now
is to devote himself to literature, and his present project, to write a History
of England for the last 150 years, in which Stephen says he would give
scope to his fine imagination in the delineation of character, and bring his
vast stores of knowledge to the composition of the narrative, and would,
without doubt, produce a work of astonishing power and interest. Macaulay

says if he had the power of recalling everything he has ever written and
published and of destroying it all, he would do so, for he thinks that his time
has been thrown away upon opuscula unworthy of his talents. This is,
however, a very preposterous squeamishness and piece of pride or humility,
whichever it may be called, for no man need be ashamed of producing
anything perfect in its kind, however the kind may not be the highest, and
his reviews are perfect in their way. I asked Stephen by what mental process
Macaulay had contrived to accumulate such boundless stores of
information, and how it was all so sorted and arranged in his head that it
was always producible at will. He said that he had first of all the power of
abstraction, of giving his undivided attention to the book and the subject on
which he was occupied; then, as other men read by syllables or by words,
he had the faculty, acquired by use, of reading by whole sentences, of
swallowing, as it were, whole paragraphs at once, and thus he infinitely
abbreviated the mere mechanical part of study; that as an educated man
would read any number of pages much more quickly than an uneducated
man, so much more quickly would Macaulay read than any ordinary man.
Therefore it is first and foremost the power of abstraction, that faculty of
attention and of rendering up his mind to the matter before him, which
makes all his reading profitable, and leaves nothing to be wasted and
frittered away. Then the acquired habit of devouring at a glance a vast
surface of print, so that, like the dragon of Wantley, to whom
Houses and churches
Were like geese and turkeys,
he can discuss a Greek folio while an ordinary man is dawdling or boggling
over a pamphlet or a newspaper.
Nature has certainly cast the mind of Macaulay in a different mould
from that of common men. There is no more comparison between his brain
and such a one as mine than between a hurdy-gurdy in the street and the
great organ at Haarlem; but it is probably not true that nature has made all
the difference or the greatest part of it. If the hurdy-gurdy was kept in
constant tune and the great instrument was never played upon, and its
barrels and tubes allowed to grow rusty, the former would at length
discourse the more eloquent music of the two. No care or cultivation indeed
could have made me what Macaulay is, but if he had wasted his time and

frittered away his intellects as I have LORD DURHAM’S ORDINANCE. done mine, he
would only have been an ordinary man; while if I had been carefully trained
and subjected to moral discipline, I might have acted a creditable and useful
part.

August 10th, 1838
Lord Durham[24] has got into a fine scrape with his Ordinance, which
is clearly illegal. Brougham brought it forward on Tuesday night in an
exulting speech, or rather in many exulting speeches, one of which
contained some eloquent passages. He was transported with joy at having,
as he said, ‘got them at last.’ The Duke supported Brougham, but with more
temper and dignity; the Ministers made but a poor defence, if defence it
could be called. Durham’s appointments cancelled and his proclamations
declared illegal will neither sweeten his temper nor exalt his character in
Canada.
[24] [Lord Durham had passed an Ordinance enacting that Papineau and the
leaders of the Canadian rebellion should be transported to Bermuda, and that if
any of them returned to Canada they should suffer death. This was done before
trial and without authority or law. It was consequently attacked with great
vehemence by Lord Brougham in the House of Lords, on the 30th of July, and
again on the 5th of August, and he brought in a Bill declaring the true meaning
and intent of the Canada Act. The second reading was carried against the
Government by a majority of eighteen, and Ministers were compelled to disallow
the Ordinance, the legality of which could not, indeed, be defended.]

August 11th, 1838
Brougham introduced his Bill of Indemnity (a Declaratory Bill) in an
admirable speech, dignified, calm, and ably reasoned. Melbourne was
imprudent enough to talk of ‘a trap having been laid for Durham,’ at which
the Duke was very angry, and made a strong speech. Last night they
announced that they mean to let this Bill pass, for that there is a necessity
for some such Bill. It certainly admits of a doubt whether Durham’s
Ordinance is illegal, except as relates to transporting people to Bermuda,
but it is inexcusable that he should not have been better advised and more

cautious than to make any such blunder. We were told that Turton’s
indifferent moral character was to be overlooked in favour of his great legal
capacity, and now it appears that his law is not a jot better than his morals.
Yesterday I met Mr. Barnes at dinner for the purpose of being
introduced to him: an agreeable man enough, with evidently a vast deal of
information, but his conversation bears no marks of that extraordinary
vigour and pungency for which the articles in the ‘Times’ are so
distinguished.[25]
[25] [Mr. Barnes was then chief editor of the ‘Times.’ Mr. Greville had long
been in correspondence with him, but this was the first time they met.]

August 12th, 1838
Lord Melbourne agreed to the Indemnity Bill, but with many
complaints of the bad effect the discussion would have in Canada.
Brougham was triumphant, the Duke moderate and conciliatory. No doubt
Brougham, in hitting this blot, was animated with nothing but the delight of
firing a double shot into Durham there and the Ministry here, and as to the
consequences he cared not a straw; but I am unable to perceive how it
would have been possible to pass the Ordinance sub silentio, its illegality
being clear, and so far from its being dangerous to discuss the matter in
Parliament, it is fortunate that the case occurred before Parliament broke up,
so that the necessary Acts may pass to secure Durham and all others acting
under his authority from the consequences which might have arisen from a
later discovery of the irregularity of his proceedings; for what might not
have happened if this Ordinance had been published during the recess and
pronounced illegal by high legal authority and taken up by the press? The
Government must have confirmed it on their own responsibility, or
disallowed it by their own authority; they would not have dared do the first,
and their disallowance would have been fraught with as serious
consequences as a parliamentary condemnation. By Melbourne’s own
showing, and for the reasons which he says induced him to agree to the Bill
—namely, that one part of the Ordinance is clearly illegal, and that it is
impossible to take one part and to reject another—he ought himself to have
come to Parliament for an Indemnity Bill and a Declaratory Act. The

question resolves itself into this: what power would the Colonial
Legislature have had if the Act had not passed by which the constitution
was suspended? and would it have been competent to do what Durham has
done? Upon this point THE ORDINANCE DISALLOWED. authorities differ, but
everybody agrees that, whatever the Colonial Legislature could have done,
Durham (with his Council) can do. If, however, Parliament did not think fit
to define his power, and great doubts exist as to its extent, the reasonable,
indeed the indispensable course seems to be that those doubts should be as
speedily as possible removed, and the amount of his authority clearly and
expressly ascertained.

August 13th, 1838
At a Council to-day to disallow Durham’s Ordinance. Nothing was
sent from the Colonial Office, and I did not know what it was for till I saw
Lord Lansdowne. He told me, and then I wrote the Order for the Queen to
approve, and he took it in to her. Presently Glenelg arrived, and announced
that nothing could be done, for the authenticated copy under the Great Seal
of the Colony was not arrived. Then a consultation was held: Lord
Lansdowne was for not minding about the Great Seal, and Melbourne
chuckled and grunted, and said, ‘Why, you knock over his Ordinances, and
he won’t care about the form, will he?’ I said, ‘If there is no precedent,
make one,’ and accordingly the Order passed. They are very angry with the
House of Lords, and Lord John said they had behaved very ill, and ought to
have waited till the whole case was before them: but I think it was all before
them.

August 20th, 1838
At Stoke on Saturday, where Lord Sefton is sinking to the grave in a
miserable state of depression and mental debility. Up by the railroad and
dined at Holland House for the first time for above a year; sat next to Lord
FitzGerald at dinner, who lamented to me the loss of the Corporation Bill;
he said he would not have consented to the lesser qualification, but would
have agreed to all the other clauses if he had had his own way. The

continuance of the trusts in the hands of the old Corporation he thought
unwise, calculated to offend feelings and prejudices, and inconsistent with
their own opinion of the corporators themselves. Wharncliffe, on the other
hand, told me some time ago that he did not care about the qualification, but
he defended, though feebly, the trusts. This shows how dissatisfied the
moderate and sensible of the party are with their own proceedings.

August 23rd, 1838
In looking back at the past Session, unexampled in duration, the first
thing that occurs to one is how uneventful it has been, and how precisely
the political state of affairs has ended as it began. The characters of certain
conspicuous men have manifested themselves in a very striking manner, but
that is all; the Government are still in their places, not a jot stronger than
they were, and the Opposition maintain their undiminished phalanx without
being at all nearer coming into power. The House of Commons uniformly
supports the Government, the House of Lords frequently opposes it, but the
difference between the two Houses seldom swells to a dispute; it is
languidly carried on and carelessly regarded, the country at large not
seeming to mind who are in or who are out. The great meteor of the year
has been Brougham, who, by common consent, has given proofs of the
undiminished force of his wonderful capacity, and who has spoken with as
much, if not with greater eloquence than at any previous period of his life.
But while he has excited no small degree of wonder and admiration, he has
not raised his reputation for wisdom or honesty. He has exhibited such an
unbridled rage against the Government, he has appeared to be animated
with so much spite and malice, without a particle of public spirit, but only
with a vindictive determination to punish them for having rejected him, that
the world has only regarded him and his performances as they would look
at a great actor on the stage. So bent has he been upon worrying the
Ministers, so determined his enmity to them, that he has sought to ally
himself with the most extreme sections of opposition, congregating with the
Roebucks, Wakleys, and Leaders in the morning, contriving and concocting
with them measures of ultra-Radicalism, then hugging Lyndhurst, bowing
down to the Duke, courting the Tory lords, and figuring, flirting, and
palavering at night at the routs of the Tory ladies. In the House of Lords,

Lyndhurst was well content to hunt in couples with him; but the Duke has
kept him at arm’s REVIEW OF THE SESSION. length, and though always on civil,
would never be on intimate terms with him. Far different has been the
Duke’s own career, for he has, throughout the Session, displayed a dignity,
candour, and moderation, without any tameness or indifference or inactivity,
which raise him to the highest rank as a statesman and a patriot, and show
him equally mindful of his own honour and his country’s good. He alone
has moderated the rancour of Lyndhurst, kept in check the violence of
Brougham, and restrained the impetuosity and impatience of his party. His
abstinence from opposition exceedingly provoked his followers, for, with
the exception of the question of the appointment of magistrates by the
Chancellor, upon which he treated the latter with considerable asperity, and
blamed his conduct severely, he displayed uniform leniency and
forbearance; at the end of the session, indeed, he supported Brougham in
his attack upon Durham, though not by any means joining in it with the
same animus. Melbourne, very soon after the commencement of the
session, openly, avowedly, and intentionally quarrelled with Brougham and
set him at defiance. However unequal to him on the whole, he came off
tolerably well in the little skirmishes which constantly took place between
them, and he derived a strength and security from the Duke’s forbearance or
support, which enabled him to jog on without sustaining any material
damage from Brougham’s terrible assaults. None of his colleagues were of
much use to him, and Glenelg got so cruelly mauled at first, that he had
afterwards no mind to mingle more than he could help in the fray.
In the House of Commons the debates have been much less interesting
and exciting than in the House of Lords. John Russell has continued
steadily to advance in public estimation as a speaker and political leader,
and Morpeth and Sir George Grey have taken higher places, while Rice and
Thomson have lost ground, and Hobhouse has sunk into utter
insignificance. Peel has, throughout the Session, acted a moderate, cautious
part, and Stanley and Graham have said and done little or nothing, both
parties, as if by common consent, keeping each other at bay, and alike
conscious that their relative strength is too equal to admit of any great
triumph on either side. This balance of parties keeps the Ministers in place,
but keeps them weak and nearly powerless either for good or for evil. It has
not, however, had the effect of exalting the third party (the Radical), which

has, on the contrary, sunk in numbers, reputation, and influence. The
conduct of the ultra-Radicals in the House of Commons, on the outbreak of
the Canadian insurrection, revealed their real disposition and disgusted the
country, and, for the present, nothing can be lower than the Radical interest,
or more feeble and innocuous than the revolutionary principle. The great
mass of the Tories are always fretting and fuming at the Whigs retaining
possession of office, and are impatient to assault them in front, and
indignant that they do not of their own accord resign, but the wiser and the
cooler know that however weak the Whigs may be as a Government, and
however insufficient their power to execute all they would like to do, they
are fortified in their places by certain barriers which their adversaries are
still more powerless to break through; for they have the cordial, undoubted
support of the Queen, they are the Ministers of her choice, and they have a
majority (a small but a clear and a certain majority) in the House of
Commons. A great Tory principle therefore coalesces with a great Whig
principle to maintain them in office; for the Tories,—who were indignant at
what they considered an invasion of the King’s prerogative in 1835, when
the House of Commons would not let him choose his own Ministers, or,
which is the same thing, so continually thwarted the Ministers of his choice
as to compel them to resign, and left him no alternative but that of taking
back those whom he had dismissed—the Tories could not with any
consistency deny to the Queen the exercise of the same authority sanctioned
by the support of the House of Commons, which they claimed for King
William even against the declared opinion of the House. Nothing is left for
them, therefore, but a sulky acquiescence in the present state of things; but
they indemnify themselves OPPOSITION IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS. by placing the
House of Lords in the new position of an assailant of the Queen’s
Government, and the Peers, without daring to assert any co-ordinate
authority with the House of Commons as to the choice of Ministers, evince
their disapprobation of that choice by frequently thwarting their most
important measures. It is curious that none of them—not even Lyndhurst
himself, perhaps not the Duke of Wellington—seems to perceive that in the
midst of their horror of innovation and dread of great constitutional
changes, they have themselves made a great practical change in the
constitutional functions of the House of Lords; that it is a departure from
the character and proper province of that House to array itself in permanent
and often bitter hostility to the Government, and to persist in continually

rejecting measures recommended by the Crown and passed by the
Commons. When the House of Lords opposed and thwarted the Ministers
during the last two years of King William’s reign, they may have justified
themselves on their own Tory principle, and (assuming as a fact that the
King was in the hands of a faction, from whose bondage he could not
release himself), that they were only supporting the Crown when they
opposed the Ministers whom the House of Commons had forced upon him,
and therefore, both as Tories and as Conservatives, they were taking a
consistent, constitutional, and prudent course; but even if this was true then,
it is certainly not true now, and it is, I believe, the first time that there is no
party in the House of Lords supporting the Crown, nor any individual acting
upon that principle, but all are either Whigs or Tories arrayed against each
other and battling for power.

CHAPTER IV.
The Queen and Lord Melbourne — The Battersea Schools — A
Council at Windsor — A Humble Hero — Lord Durham’s
Resignation — Duke of Wellington’s Campaigns — The Grange
— Lord Durham’s Return — Death of Lord Sefton — Lord
Durham’s Arrival — His Reception in the Country — Position
of the Radicals — A Visit to Windsor Castle — Lord
Brougham’s ‘Letter to the Queen’ — Lord Durham repudiates
the Radicals — A Lecture at Battersea — Dinner at Holland
House — Curran and George Ponsonby — Prospect of the New
Year — The Petition of the Serjeants-at-Law — Reconciliation
with Lord Durham — Murder of Lord Norbury — The Corn
Laws attacked — Lord Palmerston and the ‘Portfolio’ — The
Serjeants’ Case — Brougham and Lyndhurst ‘done up’ —
Opening of the Session — Resignation of Lord Glenelg — State
of Parties — Lord Durham’s Report — Lord Glenelg’s
Retirement — Lord Normanby, Colonial Minister — Corn Law
Repeal — Sir Francis Bond Head — Gore House — Lady
Blessington.

September 7th, 1838
Nothing to record of any sort or kind: London a desert; I went to-day
to Windsor for a Council, was invited by the Queen (through Melbourne) to
stay and dine, but made an excuse on the score of business, and luckily had
a plausible one to make.

September 12th, 1838

George Villiers, who came from Windsor on Monday, told me he had
been exceedingly struck with Lord Melbourne’s manner to the Queen, and
hers to him: his, so parental and anxious, but always so respectful and
deferential; hers, indicative of such entire confidence, such pleasure in his
society. She is continually talking to him; let who will be there, he always
sits next her at dinner, and evidently by arrangement, because he always
takes in the lady-in-waiting, which necessarily places him next her, the
etiquette being that the lady-in-waiting sits next but one to the Queen. It is
not unnatural, and to him it is peculiarly interesting. I have no doubt he is
passionately fond of her as he might be THE QUEEN AND LORD MELBOURNE. of his
daughter if he had one, and the more because he is a man with a capacity
for loving without having anything in the world to love. It is become his
province to educate, instruct, and form the most interesting mind and
character in the world. No occupation was ever more engrossing or
involved greater responsibility. I have no doubt that Melbourne is both
equal to and worthy of the task, and that it is fortunate she has fallen into
his hands, and that he discharges this great duty wisely, honourably, and
conscientiously. There are, however, or rather may be hereafter,
inconveniences in the establishment of such an intimacy, and in a
connexion of so close and affectionate a nature between the young Queen
and her Minister; for whenever the Government, which hangs by a thread,
shall be broken up, the parting will be painful, and their subsequent
relations will not be without embarrassment to themselves, nor fail to be the
cause of jealousy in others. It is a great proof of the discretion and purity of
his conduct and behaviour, that he is admired, respected, and liked by all
the Court.
Yesterday I went to Battersea and dined with Robert Eden, the Rector,
[1] and he took me before dinner to see his lions, and introduced me to
scenes very different from those which I am used to see. We went to
different manufactories, a saw-mill, a pottery, to the lunatic asylum, to the
workhouse, and we visited several poor people at their cottages, when he
enquired into the circumstances of the sick or the indigent; but what struck
me most forcibly was the school (upon Bell’s system) and the extraordinary
acquirements of the boys. Eden examined them, and invited me to do so, in
arithmetic, geography, English history, and the Bible, and their readiness
and correctness were really surprising. I doubt whether many of the

children of the rich, who are educated at a vast expense at private or public
schools, could pass such an examination as these young paupers who are
instructed at the cost of about one guinea a year. The greatest punishment
that can be inflicted on one of these boys is to banish him from school, such
delight do they take in acquiring knowledge. He gave me a curious account
of the state of his parish: there is no middle class of tradesmen in good
circumstances; they are divided between the extremes of wealth and of
poverty, masters and operatives; but amongst the latter there is a
considerable amount of knowledge, though their minds are ill-regulated and
their principles perverted. When first he came there the place abounded in
disciples of Carlile, pure atheists, and when Carlile was in prison he was
supported by their contributions; but though totally without religion they
were not immoral, and among these men were some of the best husbands
and fathers in the place, so much so that when Carlile told them that men
might indulge in polygamy and take two wives, they were scandalised and
disgusted, and began immediately to abandon him. Some were reclaimed
and came to church, but the greater part, who required some powerful
excitement, sought it in politics, and became deeply imbued with the most
pernicious principles of hatred against all institutions, against the higher
orders, and against property. The fountain from which they draw their
opinions is a Sunday paper called the ‘Watchman,’ which is universally and
greedily read: it is cleverly written, accommodated to their taste, and flatters
all their worst propensities. Few people know these things and are aware of
the poison that is thus circulating through the veins, and corrupting the
blood, of the social mass. The desire for instruction and knowledge seems
very general among the lower orders. Eden, with some others, has
established evening lectures upon various subjects, which are crowded by
anxious and attentive listeners of all ages and callings, who frequently hurry
from their daily occupations, impatient to partake of the instruction which
Eden and his curates, and often some of the better informed inhabitants of
the place, are in the habit of dispensing.
[1] Afterwards Bishop of Bath and Wells.

September 15th, 1838

Yesterday again at Windsor for a Council. I had made up my mind not
to stay if invited, and meant to hasten away; but before I could do so
Melbourne came after me and said, ‘You will stay here? the Queen desired
AN INVITATION TO WINDSOR. me to ask you.’ I said I had no evening dress, had
come by the railroad, and walked from Slough; could not assume that I
should be asked, and did not know what to do. He said, ‘She meant it as a
civility, and thought you would like it.’ There was a sort of reproach
conveyed in the tone, and that induced me to say, ‘So I should if I had only
known of it, but as it is I can send for my things if you like.’ He ended by
desiring I would do what I liked best myself, promised that he would take
care the Queen was not offended, and that nobody else would know
anything of the matter. I accordingly resolved to go, and went away with
Lord Albemarle. My mind misgave me, and I had a great mind to stay,
especially as Lord Albemarle told me they did not mean to turn me out after
dinner, but that sleeping there was a matter of course. Then I was sorry I
had not stayed, which I might just as well have done, for I had nothing else
to do. At these Councils we meet in common morning dress, which we used
not to do.

London, October 26th, 1838
A blank month: to Newmarket, to Buckenham, back to Newmarket, to
Cromer (fine, wild, bleak coast), Buckenham again, Newmarket, London,
Norman Court, and here again; heard nothing, learnt nothing, altogether
unprofitable, Durham’s resignation[2] the only event, the dénouement of
which nobody can guess. The Ministers ought never to have sent him,
knowing what he was, and this has not been their only fault. Norman
Court[3] is a very enjoyable place; close to it was (for it has lately been
pulled down) the house from which Lady Mary eloped with Mr. Wortley.
There I met the doctor who attended young Sam Day (who won the St.
Leger for me on Mango) after the fall of which he died, and he gave me a
striking account of the deathbed scene, the actors in which, albeit of an
humble and unpolished class, displayed feelings not the less intense from
the simplicity of their expression, and the total absence of that morbid or
conventional sensibility which gives a sort of dramatic dignity to the grief
of the great ones. The boy himself died like a hero, with a firmness,

courage, and cheerfulness which would have been extolled to the skies in
some conspicuous character on whom the world has been accustomed to
gaze, but which in the poor jockey boy passed unheeded and unknown, and
it is only the few as obscure as himself who witnessed his last moments
who are aware that, wherever his bones rest—
in that neglected spot is laid
A heart once pregnant with celestial fire.
[2] [Upon the receipt of the intelligence of the Declaratory Act, Lord
Durham at once announced in Canada his determination to resign. The
disallowance of the Ordinance and his official recall crossed this intimation on
the road.]
[3] [Norman Court was at that time the seat of Mr. Baring Wall. After his
death it passed to Mr. Thomas Baring.]

November 8th, 1838
At Newmarket, and at Euston for a day (probably for the last time),
and to London on Monday. The stillness of the political atmosphere has
been rudely broken in upon by Lord Durham’s astounding Proclamation:
for once the whole of the press has joined in a full chorus of disapprobation,
and this may be considered conclusive as to public opinion. Indeed there
can scarcely be two opinions on the subject, for such an appeal to the
people of the Colony over whom he is placed from the acts of the
Government and the legislature of the mother country is as monstrous as it
is unexampled.[4] It seems incredible that he should not have been deterred
by the men who are about him, who are not deficient in capacity, from
taking this desperate step; but as there is little doubt that Turton advised him
not to issue the Ordinances, and got into disgrace with him for so doing, it
is possible that they none of them were consulted, or if consulted did not
dare, or did not choose, to give him any advice whatever. The dignity of the
Government now demands that his insolence and misconduct should be
visited with the WELLINGTON IN BATTLE. severest expression of disapprobation
and reproof, and the harshest measures, even an impeachment, would be
fully warrantable, if harsh measures did not generally defeat their own
object. But if the Government mince matters with him, and evince any fear
to strike, if they do not vindicate their own authority, and punish his

contumacy with dignity and spirit, their characters are gone, and they will
merit all the contempt with which their opponents affect to treat them.
[4] [Lord Durham’s conduct was arrogant and highly injudicious. On the
9th October he issued a Proclamation in Canada, in which he censured the
conduct of the Home Government. It is printed in the ‘Ann. Reg.’ for 1838,
Chron. p. 311. In fact his vanity was wounded, and his mission, of which so
much was expected, had failed. But it will be seen further on that the first
impression produced by his violence was considerably mitigated. Mr. John Stuart
Mill defended his policy in the Westminster Review, and a certain amount of
reaction took place in his favour.]

November 18th, 1838, Wolbeding
Came here to-day and brought Lord Fitzroy Somerset[5] with me, who
told me a great deal about the Duke and their old campaigns. He never saw
a man so cool and indifferent to danger, at the same time without any
personal rashness or bravado, never putting himself in unnecessary danger,
never avoiding any that was necessary. He was close to the Duke, his left
arm touching the Duke’s right, when he was shot in the arm at Waterloo,
and so was Lord Anglesey when he received his wound in the leg. When
Lord Anglesey was shot he turned to the Duke and said, ‘By G— I have lost
my leg.’ The Duke replied, ‘Have you? by G—.’ The only time the Duke
ever was hit was at Orthez, by a spent ball, which struck him on the side
and knocked him down. He and Alava were standing together having both
dismounted, and they were laughing at a Portuguese soldier who had just
passed by saying he was ‘offendido’ ... when the Duke was struck down,
but he immediately rose and laughed all the more at being ‘offendido’
himself. During the battles of the Pyrenees Cole proposed to the Duke and
his staff to go and eat a very good dinner he had ordered for himself at his
house in the village he occupied, as he could not leave his division. They
went and dined, and then the Duke went into the next room and threw
himself upon a bed without a mattress, on the boards of which he presently
went to sleep with his despatch-box for a pillow. Fitzroy and the aides-de-
camp slept in chairs or on the floor scattered about. Presently arrived, in
great haste and alarm, two officers of artillery, Captain Cairne and another,
who begged to see the Duke, the former saying that he had just brought up
some guns from the rear, and that he had suddenly found himself close to

the enemy and did not know what to do. They went and woke the Duke,
who desired him to be brought in. The officer entered and told his story,
when the Duke said, very composedly, ‘Well, Sir, you are certainly in a very
bad position, and you must get out of it in the best way you can,’ turned
round, and was asleep again in a moment.
[5] [Afterwards Lord Raglan. He lost his arm at Waterloo, and commanded
the British army in the Crimea, where he died in 1855.]

Lord Fitzroy gave me an account of the battle of Salamanca, exactly
corresponding with that which the Duke himself gave me last year at
Burghley, but with some additional details. They were going to dine in a
farmyard, but the shot fell so thick there that the mules carrying the dinner
were ordered to go to another place. There the Duke dined, walking about
the whole time munching, with his field-glass in his hand, and constantly
looking through it. On a sudden, he exclaimed, ‘By G—, they are extending
their line; order my horses.’ The horses were brought and he was off in an
instant, followed only by his old German dragoon, who went with him
everywhere. The aides-de-camp followed as quickly as they could. He
galloped straight to Pakenham’s division and desired him immediately to
begin the attack. Pakenham said, ‘Give me your hand, and it shall be done.’
The Duke very gravely gave him his hand, Pakenham shook it warmly and
then hastened off. The French were attacked directly after.
He also told me another anecdote I had never heard before. During the
retreat from Burgos, on this very day twenty-six years ago, when the
weather was dreadful and the roads were nearly impassable, the Duke lost
his army for several hours. They had to cross a river near a place called
Rodrigo, and the Duke had ordered the army to march in three columns, of
which one, composed of the Spaniards, was to cross by the only bridge
there was, and the other two by fords and by another route. He had assigned
the easiest line to the Spaniards because they were likely to have more
stragglers than the British. Arthur Upton, the Quartermaster-General AN ARMY
LOST. of one of the divisions, had dined at head-quarters the night before, and
the Duke had sent by him written orders for the march. The next morning at
two o’clock the Duke was on the high road on purpose to see the troops
pass by. Cavalry came, but no infantry, and to the enquiries the Duke made,
they all replied that they had not seen anything of the infantry. Presently the
Duke galloped off, and Fitzroy having missed him soon after, set off to see

if he could discover what was become of the infantry. It was not till several
hours after that he joined the Duke, who had at last found out the cause of
the non-appearance of his infantry. The three Generals commanding the
divisions, Clinton, Stewart, and Lord Dalhousie, had thought fit to disobey
his orders, and as a great deal of rain had fallen in the night, they had settled
that it would be better to direct the whole of the infantry on the bridge
instead of moving them by the roads prescribed by the Duke, and though
they knew he was only seven or eight miles off, they never advised him of
their having made this change in the movements he had ordered. The enemy
did not discover what had occurred; if they had, the consequences might
have been very serious, and a great loss have ensued. Fitzroy asked the
Duke what he had said to them, and he replied, ‘Oh, by G—, it was too
serious to say anything.’ It was too late then to restore the original order of
march, and the whole army crossed by the bridge. No further allusion was
made to what had occurred.

December 2nd, 1838
Went from Wolbeding to the Grange, last Friday week—Henry Taylor
and George Cornewall Lewis there—and came to town on Sunday. The
Grange is a beautiful specimen of Grecian architecture, bought by Lord
Ashburton of that extraordinary man Henry Drummond, a man so able and
eccentric as to be treading on the very edge of the partition which divides
wit from madness.
Lord Durham arrived at Plymouth some days ago, but was not able to
land (on Thursday last) owing to the violence of the storms. Great curiosity
prevails to see what sort of a reception he gets from Ministers and the
Queen, and what his relations are to be with Government. Nothing they say
can exceed the astonishment which he and his court feel, or will feel, at the
sensation excited in the country by his conduct. Gibbon Wakefield, the first
who arrived, said he had never been so amazed in the course of his life, and
owned that they had all expected to make a very different impression, and
to be hailed with great applause. Brougham, who is sitting at the Judicial
Committee, is in high spirits and looking forward with exceeding zest and
eagerness to the fun he is to have in the House of Lords.

While I was in the country, Lord Sefton’s long illness came to a close,
but not before he was reduced to a state of deplorable imbecility, so that his
death was a release from misery to himself as well as to all about him. He
was a man who filled a considerable space in society, and had been more or
less conspicuous from the earliest period of his life. He was possessed of an
ample fortune, which he endeavoured to convert into a continual source of
enjoyment in every mode which fancy, humour, or caprice suggested. His
natural parts were excessively lively, but his education had been wholly
neglected, and he never attempted to repair in after-life the deficiencies
occasioned by that early neglect. He had therefore not the slightest tincture
of letters, his mind was barren of information, and he not only took no
interest in intellectual pursuits, but he regarded with aversion, and
something like contempt, those who were peculiarly devoted to them. On
the other hand, he was an acute man of the world, eagerly entering into all
the interests, great and small, of his own time, sufficiently acquainted with
the mushroom literature of the day for all social purposes, and, partly from
the authority which his wealth and position gave him, partly from his own
dexterity, he contrived to turn conversation aside from those topics in the
discussion of which he was incapable of mixing, and to promote that sort of
half-serious, half-ludicrous talk, in which he was not only fitted to play a
prominent part, but in which he exhibited a talent quite peculiar to himself.
Never was there so great a CHARACTER OF LORD SEFTON. master of what is called
persiflage—of that boisterous, droll and pungent banter which, if not the
most elevated species of wit, is certainly that which is most exhilarating and
provocative of laughter. In this he was unrivalled, and it was heightened by
the adjuncts of a voice, face, and manner irresistibly comical. As the most
opposite characters owned the fascination of this exciting talent, he was
enabled to gratify his inclination for every variety of social excellence, and
to number among his friends and companions many of the most eminent
and accomplished men of his time. From his earliest youth he had always
lived in what was considered the very best society, and as he eschewed the
idea of growing old and retiring from the stage, he was continually making
new acquaintances, falling into fresh pursuits, and adapting himself to the
prevailing tastes and habits of the day. His father had stamped upon him his
hideous form, but with it his sharp and caustic wit; he found himself at the
outset a member of that brilliant society of which Hatfield and Cashiobury
were the temples, and Lady Salisbury, Lady Essex, and Mrs. St. John the

presiding divinities. After these had flourished and decayed, Sefton struck
into fresh paths of social enjoyment, and having successively sought for
amusement in hunting, shooting, racing, gaming, ‘besides ten thousand
freaks that died in thinking,’ he plunged with ardour into politics, and
though he had no opinions or principles but such as resulted from personal
predilections, and had none of that judgement which can only be generated
by the combination of knowledge with severe mental discipline, he was
enabled by the force of circumstances and an energetic will to acquire
political intimacies, and to a certain degree to play a political part: of this
his friendship with Brougham was the primary cause. Brougham had been
his counsel in some important cause at Liverpool, and that professional
connexion subsequently ripened into a close alliance, Sefton being naturally
delighted with his brilliant conversation, while Brougham was always
highly diverted with the peculiar humour and drollery of Sefton. So
intimate therefore did they become, and such influence was Sefton
supposed to possess over his mind, that he was employed by Lord Grey, on
the formation of the Whig Government in 1830, to settle the conditions of
Brougham’s accession to office, and to appease the wrath which had been
stirred up in his mind by the offer of being made Attorney-General. His
addiction to politics had, however, very little influence on his habits, except
to extend and diversify the sphere of his occupations and amusements. His
Parliamentary attendance never abridged the hours or nights which were
devoted to Crockford’s, and his friendships with Brougham, Lord Grey and
Lord Holland, Talleyrand, and all the most distinguished people in the
country, did not alienate him from the company of the idle, gay, and
dissolute frequenters of clubs and race-courses, congenial spirits from
whom he extracted their several contributions of entertainment. The one
thing needful to him was excitement, and so fixed and rooted was his habit
of seeking it, that there was a sort of regularity in the very irregularities of
his existence. In regard to his moral attributes he was governed by an
intense selfishness, but of that liberal and enlightened character which
throws a partial veil over the vice itself and leaves the superficial observer
unconscious of its existence. He was a devoted husband, a kind and
affectionate father, a despot (though it was a beneficent despotism) in his
own family, a courteous, cordial, and obliging host; he cared for money
only as a means of enjoyment, but it formed no part of his scheme of
happiness to employ it in promoting the pleasures, or relieving the

necessities of others, except in so far as such pleasures were connected with
his own gratification. He was absolutely devoid of religious belief or
opinions, but he left to all others the unquestioned liberty of rendering that
homage to religion from which he gave himself a plenary dispensation. His
general conduct was stained with no gross immorality, and as he was placed
far above the necessity of committing dishonourable actions, his mind was
habitually imbued with principles of integrity. They sat, however, lightly
and easily upon him as regarded the conduct of others, not so much from
indifference as from LORD DURHAM’S RETURN. indulgence in those particular
cases where a rigid and severe application of high principle would have
interfered with his own convenience or enjoyment. Such was Sefton, a man
who acted too conspicuous a part on the stage of the world to be passed
over without notice, whom I knew too well to delineate in more flattering
terms, but to whom I must acknowledge a debt of gratitude for a long and
undeviating course of kind and cordial hospitality experienced for many
years.

December 6th, 1838
If notoriety upon any terms could satisfy anybody, Lord Durham
would have ample reason for contentment, as his name is in everybody’s
mouth, and the chief topic of every newspaper and political periodical. He
was detained by the storms on board his ship for a day or two, and met on
his landing by a Devonport address, to which he returned a rather
mysterious answer (talking of the great disclosures he had to make), with a
reference to his Glasgow speech in which in ’34 he announced his Radical
tendency. The most interesting question is how he and the Ministers will go
on together, what they ought to do, and how he will take their usage of him
whatever it may be. He has been in no hurry to come to town, and has
reposed himself at Plymouth as long as it suited him; but he is expected to-
day. Brougham, who is sitting every day at the Privy Council, is always
growling at him sarcastically, and was much pleased when news came of
the fresh outbreak in Canada, and his disappointment was equally evident
when he heard it was so rapidly quelled. He was reading the newspaper in
my room before the Court opened, when Denman came and announced that
he had just met Charles Wood, who had told him that young Ellice was

released, and the insurrection suppressed. Brougham did not take his eyes
off the paper, and merely muttered, ‘It will soon break out again.’ He is all
day long working sums in algebra, or extracting cube-roots; and while he
pretends to be poring over the great book (the cases of the parties) before
him, he is in reality absorbed in his own calculations. Nevertheless, he from
time to time starts up, and throws in a question, a dictum, or a lecture, just
as if he had been profoundly attentive.

December 10th, 1838
Nothing can exhibit more strikingly the farcical nature of public
meetings, and the hollowness, worthlessness, and accidental character of
popularity, than the circumstances of Durham’s arrival here. He has done
nothing in Canada, he took himself off just as the fighting was going to
begin, his whole conduct has been visited with universal disapprobation,
and nevertheless his progress to London has been a sort of triumph; and he
has been saluted with addresses and noisy receptions at all the great towns
through which he passed. His position here is extraordinary enough, and his
relations with the Government stand upon a strange footing. They have
made no communication to him since his arrival. Upon the receipt of his
Proclamation they wrote to him and expressed their disapprobation, but
those letters never reached him, as he quitted Canada before they could
have arrived. They now, it seems, consider that silence is token sufficient of
their displeasure at his abrupt return; but, though no doubt he fully
understands them, they ought to have conveyed their sentiments openly and
distinctly. There is an appearance of pusillanimity in this reserve which
does them great harm, and brings them into discredit. They ought to have
told him temperately, but firmly, that they were entirely dissatisfied with his
proceedings, and having so done they should have called upon him to afford
them all the explanations and all the information he has to give; but they
have done none of this, for they have taken no notice of him, nor he of
them. He has not seen one of the Ministers, not even his own brother-in-law
Howick, nor any of the underlings, except Ben Stanley, who found Durham
in high dudgeon, and saying, that ‘as Government attacked him he must
defend himself.’ What he means by ‘attacking him’ is, that certain articles
reflecting on his conduct have appeared in the ‘Globe,’ for in no way have

Government said or done anything about him; on the contrary, they have
been only too reserved and forbearing.
The conduct of Durham throughout the whole business, LORD DURHAM
BLUNDERS. from his first legislative act in Canada (the Ordinance) down to his
arrival in London, is perfectly inexplicable, and presents a series of
blunders tricked out in plausible language, invested with the dignity of
pompous phraseology, mysterious allusions, threats and promises, and the
affecting complaints of injured innocence and ill-requited virtue. But still,
such is the effect of notoriety, so dearly do ordinary mortals love to play a
part and ‘make the capable,’ that in spite of his blunders and his faults he
has contrived to excite a certain amount of interest, to make an impression,
though not a very deep or wide one, and to raise a vague expectation as to
his promised disclosures. His speeches in reply to the addresses are most
extraordinary performances, unbecoming in tone, contradictory,
inconsistent, and inflated; for as to disclosures he has none to make of any
sort or kind. He had the finest game to play in Canada that could be placed
in his hands, for the proceedings here gave him a legitimate grievance, and
would have enabled him to claim double credit for success, and exemption
from any blame or discredit from failure; but temper, uncontrollable and
unreflecting, hurried him into the irretrievable follies he committed, and he
is now without any alternative but that of renewing the Radical connexion
from which a short time ago he evinced a disposition to keep aloof, and he
has nothing left for it but to accept the post that is offered him of leading a
party which, in its composition, principles, and objects, is as uncongenial as
possible to his real character and disposition. For it is not a little curious
that this levelling democratic faction, to whom the aristocracy are an
abomination, are not only wild to have a lord for their leader, but must have
that lord who is the especial incarnation of all those odious qualities which
they ascribe most unjustly to the order of which he is a member: and he
who is brimful of pride and arrogance, and of an overweening sense of his
greatness and his rank, is content to associate with men whose chief
recommendation is the profuseness with which they pander to his vanity,
and to seek personal distinction and power by lending himself to the
promotion of schemes the success of which no man would more earnestly
deprecate than himself. The greatest enigma is how Durham has ever come
to be considered of such importance, and what is the cause of the sort of

reputation he has acquired; for whatever may be his intrinsic value, he
certainly fills a considerable space, attracts a great share of public attention,
and is a personage of some consequence in the political world. He is a
clever man, can both write and speak well, but he has not been in the habit
of saying much, and he has never done anything whatever. He is known to
the world by no specific act, and he has taken part very rarely and
occasionally in the debates in Parliament. All that is known of his embassy
to Russia is, that he was completely bit by the Emperor Nicholas, and gave
up the question of the ‘Vixen;’ still, by dint of being perpetually cried up by
a particular party, and by doing well the little he has occasionally done in
public, he has succeeded in making himself pass for a man of high
pretensions and uncommon endowments, and in the present state of parties
his arrival may be productive of important effects.
The Radicals, that is, the English ones, are extremely exasperated
against the Government, and many of them are anxious to terminate the
Whig reign, from which they think it vain to expect anything after John
Russell’s declaration, and to try their chance with the Tories: not that they
expect to find the Tories squeezable, but they fancy that a Tory Government
will fail, and, after its failure, that recourse must be had to them. The wiser
heads of the party know that these notions are quite chimerical, and are for
trusting to the chapter of accidents and letting the present Cabinet remain
in. The consequence is, that there is great dissension and vast difference of
opinion among them; they have no leader, and there is no individual who
influences the determinations of the whole body. On the other side of the
water, O’Connell has likewise threatened to insist upon ballot as the
condition of his support to Government; but nobody pays any attention to
his harangues or the menaces they contain, and his support may be pretty
well depended on. But it IRRITATION OF THE RADICALS. would not be enough for
Government that the English Radicals should abstain from going against
them in a body, because so slender is the majority on which they can count,
that if any considerable number were to oppose Government on some vital
question, it would be sufficient to overthrow them. Of this they are aware,
as well as of the probability of such defection, and the consequent
precariousness of their situation, and many among them are beginning to be
very tired and disgusted with such a tenure of office. It is difficult to believe
that Melbourne would not be more so than anybody, if it were not that he is

bound by every sentiment of duty, gratitude, and attachment to the Queen to
retain the Government as long as he can with honour and safety, and to
stretch a point even, to spare her the pain and mortification of changes that
would be so painful to her. The Tories, who see the accumulating
difficulties of the Government, and who are aware of the immense
importance of letting it dissolve of itself, or be broken up by the defection
and opposition of its own supporters, are disposed to be patient and
moderate; that is, the more sagacious of them are; but they are always in
danger of being prematurely urged on by the violence and impetuosity of
their tail. Such is the state of parties at the present moment, and it would
puzzle the most sagacious observer and most experienced actor in political
life to predict the result of the ensuing session. There is quite enough,
however, in the general aspect of affairs both at home and abroad to
moderate the rancour of mere party violence.

December 15th, 1838
Went on Wednesday to a Council at Windsor, and after the Council
was invited to stay that night; rode with the Queen, and after riding
Melbourne came to me and said Her Majesty wished me to stay the next
day also. This was very gracious and very considerate, because it was done
for the express purpose of showing that she was not displeased at my not
staying when asked on a former occasion, and as she can have no object
whatever in being civil to me, it was a proof of her good-nature and
thoughtfulness about other people’s little vanities, even those of the most
insignificant. Accordingly I remained till Friday morning, when I went with
the rest of her suite to see the hounds throw off, which she herself saw for
the first time. The Court is certainly not gay, but it is perhaps impossible
that any Court should be gay where there is no social equality; where some
ceremony, and a continual air of deference and respect must be observed,
there can be no ease, and without ease there can be no real pleasure. The
Queen is natural, good-humoured, and cheerful, but still she is Queen, and
by her must the social habits and the tone of conversation be regulated, and
for this she is too young and inexperienced. She sits at a large round table,
her guests around it, and Melbourne always in a chair beside her, where two
mortal hours are consumed in such conversation as can be found, which

appears to be, and really is, very up-hill work. This, however, is the only
bad part of the whole; the rest of the day is passed without the slightest
constraint, trouble, or annoyance to anybody; each person is at liberty to
employ himself or herself as best pleases them, though very little is done in
common, and in this respect Windsor is totally unlike any other place. There
is none of the sociability which makes the agreeableness of an English
country house; there is no room in which the guests assemble, sit, lounge,
and talk as they please and when they please; there is a billiard table, but in
such a remote corner of the Castle that it might as well be in the town of
Windsor; and there is a library well stocked with books, but hardly
accessible, imperfectly warmed, and only tenanted by the librarian: it is a
mere library, too, unfurnished, and offering none of the comforts and
luxuries of a habitable room. There are two breakfast rooms, one for the
ladies and the guests, and the other for the equerries, but when the meal is
over everybody disperses, and nothing but another meal reunites the
company, so that, in fact, there is no society whatever, little trouble, little
etiquette, but very little resource or amusement.
The life which the Queen leads is this: she gets up soon after eight
o’clock, breakfasts in her own room, and is employed the whole morning in
transacting business; she reads LIFE OF THE QUEEN AT WINDSOR. all the despatches,
and has every matter of interest and importance in every department laid
before her. At eleven or twelve Melbourne comes to her and stays an hour,
more or less, according to the business he may have to transact. At two she
rides with a large suite (and she likes to have it numerous); Melbourne
always rides on her left hand, and the equerry in waiting generally on her
right; she rides for two hours along the road, and the greater part of the time
at a full gallop; after riding she amuses herself for the rest of the afternoon
with music and singing, playing, romping with children, if there are any in
the Castle (and she is so fond of them that she generally contrives to have
some there), or in any other way she fancies. The hour of dinner is
nominally half-past seven o’clock, soon after which time the guests
assemble, but she seldom appears till near eight. The lord in waiting comes
into the drawing-room and instructs each gentleman which lady he is to
take in to dinner. When the guests are all assembled the Queen comes in,
preceded by the gentlemen of her household, and followed by the Duchess
of Kent and all her ladies; she speaks to each lady, bows to the men, and

goes immediately into the dining-room. She generally takes the arm of the
man of the highest rank, but on this occasion she went with Mr. Stephenson,
the American Minister (though he has no rank), which was very wisely
done. Melbourne invariably sits on her left, no matter who may be there;
she remains at table the usual time, but does not suffer the men to sit long
after her, and we were summoned to coffee in less than a quarter of an hour.
In the drawing-room she never sits down till the men make their
appearance. Coffee is served to them in the adjoining room, and then they
go into the drawing-room, when she goes round and says a few words to
each, of the most trivial nature, all however very civil and cordial in manner
and expression. When this little ceremony is over the Duchess of Kent’s
whist table is arranged, and then the round table is marshalled, Melbourne
invariably sitting on the left hand of the Queen and remaining there without
moving till the evening is at an end. At about half-past eleven she goes to
bed, or whenever the Duchess has played her usual number of rubbers, and
the band have performed all the pieces on their list for the night. This is the
whole history of her day: she orders and regulates every detail herself, she
knows where everybody is lodged in the Castle, settles about the riding or
driving, and enters into every particular with minute attention. But while
she personally gives her orders to her various attendants, and does
everything that is civil to all the inmates of the Castle, she really has
nothing to do with anybody but Melbourne, and with him she passes (if not
in tête-à-tête yet in intimate communication) more hours than any two
people, in any relation of life, perhaps ever do pass together besides.[6] He
is at her side for at least six hours every day—an hour in the morning, two
on horseback, one at dinner, and two in the evening. This monopoly is
certainly not judicious; it is not altogether consistent with social usage, and
it leads to an infraction of those rules of etiquette which it is better to
observe with regularity at Court. But it is more peculiarly inexpedient with
reference to her own future enjoyment, for if Melbourne should be
compelled to resign, her privation will be the more bitter on account of the
exclusiveness of her intimacy with him. Accordingly, her terror when any
danger menaces the Government, her nervous apprehension at any
appearance of change, affect her health, and upon one occasion during the
last session she actually fretted herself into an illness at the notion of their
going out. It must be owned that her feelings are not unnatural, any more
than those which Melbourne entertains towards her. His manner to her is

perfect, always respectful, and never presuming upon the extraordinary
distinction he enjoys; hers to him is simple and natural, indicative of the
confidence she reposes in him, and of her lively taste for his society, but not
marked by any unbecoming familiarity. BROUGHAM’S LETTER TO THE QUEEN.
Interesting as his position is, and flattered, gratified, and touched as he must
be by the confiding devotion with which she places herself in his hands, it is
still marvellous that he should be able to overcome the force of habit so
completely as to endure the life he leads. Month after month he remains at
the Castle, submitting to this daily routine: of all men he appeared to be the
last to be broken in to the trammels of a Court, and never was such a
revolution seen in anybody’s occupations and habits. Instead of indolently
sprawling in all the attitudes of luxurious ease, he is always sitting bolt
upright; his free and easy language interlarded with ‘damns’ is carefully
guarded and regulated with the strictest propriety, and he has exchanged the
good talk of Holland House for the trivial, laboured, and wearisome
inanities of the Royal circle.
[6] The Duke of Wellington says that Melbourne is quite right to go and
stay at the Castle as much he does, and that it is very fit he should instruct the
young Queen in the business of government, but he disapproves of his being
always at her side, even contrary to the rules of etiquette; for as a Prime Minister
has no precedence, he ought not to be placed in the post of honour to the
exclusion of those of higher rank than himself.

December 19th, 1838
Dined with Brougham the day before yesterday, with whom I am on
mighty intimate terms just now. Sat next to Bellenden Ker (who drew up his
Privy Council Bill), who told me that Brougham said he was writing sixteen
hours a day, and about to bring out two more volumes of his Paley,[7] and I
found the explanation of his calculations at the Council Board in the fact
that he was working out some problems for the purpose of proving the form
of the structure of honeycombs. In the meantime he has put forth a
pamphlet in the shape of a letter to the Queen, which he half acknowledges,
and of which nobody doubts that he is the author, as in fact nobody can who
is acquainted with the man or his writings. It makes a prodigious noise in
the world and is read with avidity, but, though marked with all his
cleverness, it is a discreditable production. The tone of it is detestable, the

object mischievous, though by no means definite or clear. After stripping it
of all its invectives and ribaldry, there is no proposition which can be
extracted from it except that of giving universal suffrage, for, although he
does not say so, his argument cannot be arrested short of such a
consummation. It is a bitter, brilliant, wayward satire and philippic, and, as
Johnson said of Junius, ‘if you extract from its wit the vivacity of
impudence, and withdraw from its efficacy the sympathetic favour of
plebeian malignity, if you leave it only its merit, I know not what will be its
praise.’ It is, however, marvellously characteristic of the man, and
illustrative of the state of his mind. His present political conduct, if political
it can be called, is curious enough, for he is doing all he can to keep up his
connexion with the Radicals, and at the same time courting the Tories, his
only fixed idea being to worry the Government. It is clear to me that he was
jealous and displeased at the notion of Durham’s being put at the head of
the Radical party, and it was with evident glee that he told me on Monday
how grievously Durham had offended them by his reply to the Westminster
Association, which they very correctly took to themselves. Brougham
called on Leader on Sunday, where he found Trelawny, and one or two
more Radicals whose names I have forgotten, when Leader expressed these
sentiments to him: he said there was no sort of necessity for Durham’s
writing them such a letter, and that he had evidently seized the opportunity
of addressing them in that shape, and of course there was an end of any
possibility of a connexion between him and them. This is very true, for the
fact is that Durham—who since his arrival has had time and opportunity to
find out in what a miserable position he has placed himself, how feeble and
inefficient the Radical party is as a party, and how entirely he would destroy
himself by becoming their leader, and who moreover has been exceedingly
disgusted at the way in which he was taken up by Molesworth, and
provoked to death at being taken under his protection at Devonport—
desires earnestly to retrace his steps and to disavow the alliance they have
offered him, and which they have so prematurely and ostentatiously
proclaimed. He now wants to put himself in a neutral and, if he can, a
dignified position. Yesterday he had an interview with Lord Wellesley,
whom he asked leave to call upon, and it is not at all unlikely that it will
end in his meeting Brougham at Lord Wellesley’s as their common friend.
Brougham told me that their quarrel A LECTURE AT BATTERSEA. was at an end, and
that it was now only a question which should first speak to the other, and

that Durham had said he was not at all angry at the part he had taken in the
House of Lords, and owned he could not, consistently with the conduct he
had pursued with respect to Canada, have acted differently. All this proves
that he is ready enough to make it up with Durham; in fact he will ally
himself with anybody who is likely to join him in attacking the
Government. What Brougham told me about the Radicals was confirmed
last night by Fonblanque, who said that Durham’s return had been
positively serviceable to Government, for if he had remained in Canada
there were fourteen or fifteen of that party who would most certainly have
gone into Opposition; but his return having led to the expectation of his
joining them, and that having been frustrated, there was every probability of
their doing what they had done before and supporting the Government,
however sulkily and reluctantly, rather than throw open the door for the
return of the Tories. He said the slightest concession to them from the
Government would secure them, but I told him none would be made, and he
was aware of it.
[7] Paley’s Natural Theology, illustrated by Lord Brougham, was published
soon afterwards.

I met Sheil at dinner yesterday at Poulett Thomson’s, who, to my
surprise, is a candidate for the office of Judge Advocate, and he expects, if
Macaulay refuses it, to be appointed. He begged of me to let him know as
soon as Macaulay’s answer came, and he said, Normanby had strongly
urged it, and Melbourne was well disposed towards him.

December 24th, 1838
Went on Friday to Battersea to hear Robert Eden deliver a lecture in
the school-room—one of a course he is delivering upon anatomy, or rather
upon different parts of the human body—and demonstrating the utility of
cleanliness, the danger of drunkenness, and mixing precept with
information for the benefit of as mixed an audience as ever was assembled,
but who seemed much interested and very attentive. There were many of
the gentry of Battersea, male and female, the tradespeople, workmen, the
boys of the school, and a rough, ragged set of urchins, labourers on the
railroad—in all about 300 people. The lecture, which was upon the arm,

was very fluently given; the lecturer is not sufficiently master of his subject
to make his explanations very lucid and perfectly intelligible, but he
conveys good general notions, and introduces such a mixture of anecdote
and illustration as makes it sufficiently entertaining. The undertaking is
highly laudable; it is carried on with great zeal and spirit, very considerable
ability, and, as far as it has gone, with complete success.
Dined yesterday at the Hollands’: Normanby, Melbourne, and Luttrell;
pretty good talk. Melbourne, rather paradoxical, asserted that ‘men with
quick feelings were always the worst men; that he could not work out the
proposition metaphysically then, but that he should do.’ It was the assertion
of Brougham’s having quick feelings which elicited the saying, though
certainly Brougham is not the worst of men: far from it, nor did he mean to
say so. Brougham denies this pamphlet, and says he cannot be the author
for this reason: the pamphlet reasserts something about Melbourne which
he had asserted in one of his articles in the ‘Edinburgh Review.’ Melbourne,
when he read that article, wrote to Brougham, and told him that as he was
sure he did not wish to misrepresent him, he informed him that he had never
entertained the opinions nor given the vote there ascribed to him. Brougham
replied, admitting his error, and promising to correct it, offering to do so at
Melbourne’s option in another number of the ‘Edinburgh Review,’ or in
some other work (I forget what). Melbourne wrote back, in rather a jocular
strain, that he thought it would be preferable to have the correction in the
same publication as the statement, to which Brougham sent a good-
humoured answer, and there it ended. After this, he says that he could not
by possibility repeat the very same thing in another work that he had
already engaged to recall, and this is certainly strong. At the same time
there are things in it which no other man could have written. Just before it
came out he was preparing something for the printer, for he came into my
room with a parcel of proof-sheets in his hand, which I fancied were for me
to frank to Macvey Napier, and I said so; when ANECDOTES OF CURRAN. he
replied, ‘Oh no, they are going to the printer here.’ It is after all not
improbable that it was a joint production—his and Roebuck’s—Roebuck
making the pudding, and Brougham putting in the plums. Melbourne was
talking of Brougham’s indignation and mortification at being deprived of
his pre-eminence in the House of Lords, and of a letter he wrote in great
bitterness of spirit, in which he said, ‘Do you mean to deprive me of my

lead in the House of Lords? Why don’t you say as you did when you took
the Great Seal from me, ‘God damn you, I tell you I can’t give you the
Great Seal, and there’s an end of it’?’
They spoke of Curran, his wit, and of his quarrel with Ponsonby. When
the Whigs came in in 1806, Ponsonby was made Irish Chancellor.[8] There
had been some previous communication with Curran, who had assented to
Ponsonby’s being promoted to the highest place; but he expressed his
expectation that he should have the next, and he wanted to be Attorney-
General. Fox was very desirous of making him Attorney, but Lord Grenville
would not hear of it; he had been so concerned with the rebels that it was
thought impossible, besides that it led directly to the Bench, for which he
was disqualified by temper and character. When Ponsonby became
Chancellor, Curran wrote to him to know if he was to be Attorney; and
Ponsonby sent him a pompous answer, that ‘his lips were sealed with the
seals of office;’ which affronted Curran. Eventually, they determined to buy
out the Master of the Rolls and put Curran in his place, and they arranged
with the Master that he should have 600 ℓ . a year out of the place (a
monstrous job). Accordingly Curran was informed that he was to be the
Master of the Rolls, but after this notification (as he asserted), it was
intimated to him that he was to have this rider upon his place. He said, he
had been no party to such an agreement and he would not pay it, nor did he.
Ponsonby was highly indignant, said Curran was a great rogue, and never
would speak to him again; and he paid the 600 ℓ . a year out of his own
pocket as long as Curran lived. As a specimen of Curran’s wit, one day
when Lord Moira had been making a speech in his usual style full of
sounding phrases and long words, Curran said, ‘Upon my word his lordship
has been airing his vocabulary in a very pretty style to-day.’
[8] [Right Hon. George Ponsonby, who resigned the office in the following
year. Curran held the office of Master of the Rolls in Ireland from 1806 to 1814,
when he retired on a pension of 3,000ℓ. a year. He died in 1817.]

Lord Holland gave me an account of Fox’s death, with all the details of
the operations (he was thrice tapped), and his behaviour; and till then I was
not entirely aware that Fox was no believer in religion. Mrs. Fox was very
anxious to have prayers read, to which he consented, but paid little attention
to the ceremony, remaining quiescent merely, not liking, as Lord Holland

said, to refuse any wish of hers, nor to pretend any sentiments he did not
entertain.

January 1st, 1839
Another year gone, taking along with it some particles of health,
strength, and spirits, but it is to be hoped making us something wiser and
better, and giving an increased power of passive resistance to bear up
against the accumulating ills or sorrows of life. But I will not—here at least
—plunge into a moralising strain. As to public matters the year opens in no
small gloom and uncertainty. On the surface all is bright and smooth
enough: the country is powerful, peaceful, and prosperous, and all the
elements of wealth and power are increasing; but the mind of the mass is
disturbed and discontented, and there is a continual fermentation going on,
and separate and unconnected causes of agitation and disquiet are in
incessant operation, which create great alarm, but which there seems to
exist no power of checking or subduing. The Government is in a wretched
state of weakness, utterly ignorant whether it can scramble through the
session, unable to assume a dignified attitude, to investigate with calm
deliberation the moral and political condition of the country, and to act upon
its convictions with firmness and resolution, tottering and staggering
between one great party and one fierce faction, and just able to keep on its
legs because both are, for different reasons, willing to wound but afraid to
strike. It does not fulfil the purpose of a Government, and brings the
function itself into contempt DISTURBED STATE OF THE COUNTRY. by accustoming
men to look at it without any feeling of attachment or respect. Wild notions
of political grievances and political rights have been widely disseminated
among the masses, and these are not engendered or fostered by the
prevalence of distress or that want of employment which not unnaturally
turns the thoughts of the idle and unoccupied to the most desperate
expedients for bettering their condition, but they are the mere aspirings of a
fierce democracy who have been gradually but deeply impregnated with
sentiments of hatred and jealousy of the upper classes, and with a
determination to ‘level’ all political distinctions and privileges, and when
this is accomplished to proceed to a more equal distribution of property, to
an agrarian experiment; for it is idle to suppose that men of this stamp care

anything for abstract political theories, or have any definite object but that
of procuring the means of working less, and eating and drinking more. The
accounts of the Chartists (as they are called), at and about Manchester,
represent them to be collected in vast bodies, associations of prodigious
numbers, meeting in all the public-houses, collecting arms universally, and
constantly practising by firing at a mark, openly threatening, if their
demands are not complied with, to enforce them by violence. In the mean
time there is no military force in the country at all adequate to meet these
menacing demonstrations; the yeomanry have been reduced, and the
magistracy are worse than useless, without consideration, resolution, or
judgement. There is every reason to suppose that they have got into a scrape
with their arrest of Stephens, the great Chartist orator, and that there is no
case against him sufficient for a conviction.[9] The magistrates completely
lost their heads, and between their fears and their folly have blundered and
bothered their proceedings miserably, and so as to afford an ultimate
triumph to this mischievous fellow and his followers.
[9] [One Stephens, formerly a Wesleyan preacher, and one of the most
violent agitators against the New Poor Law, was apprehended near Manchester
on December 27. He had used most incendiary language, but was liberated on
bail, and soon afterwards addressed a meeting of 5,000 people at Ashton-under-
Lyne. There seems to have been no case against him.]

January 11, 1839
A great field-day at the Council Office yesterday to hear the Petition of
the Serjeants against the order of the late King opening the Court of
Common Pleas to all barristers. It was Brougham’s order.[10] The
Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, Master of the Rolls, three Chiefs, all the
Puisne Judges who are Privy Councillors, Lushington, Wynford, and
Brougham sat. Follett and Charles Austin were counsel for the Serjeants,
and the Attorney and Solicitor-Generals ordered to attend, and seated at a
table in court. Follett spoke for four hours, and Austin for two, and did not
finish. A vast deal of historical research was displayed, but it was not
amusing nor particularly well done. The Serjeants were present (the five
petitioners), and Wilde prompting Follett all the time. There seemed no
difference of opinion among the Judges, at least with those I talked to, and

the King’s mandate (for such it was to the Chief Justice of the Common
Pleas, and under the sign manual, though countersigned by nobody) will be
declared waste paper, and matters be replaced on their ancient footing till
Parliament may otherwise determine. Brougham appeared considerably
disconcerted, and though he tilted occasionally with the counsel, he was on
the whole quieter than usual and than I expected he would have been. This
order was one of those things he blurted out in that ‘sic volo sic jubeo’ style
which he had assumed, and without consideration, probably without
consultation with anybody, or he might easily have avoided the commission
of such a blunder.
[10] [The Serjeants-at-Law had enjoyed from time immemorial the
exclusive right of practising in the Court of Common Pleas. Upon the advice of
Lord Brougham, then Chancellor, King William IV. had issued a written mandate
to the court to open their bar to the whole profession. No doubt the act was quite
illegal and a nullity. The Serjeants now petitioned the Queen in Council to set it
aside. But the court was subsequently opened by Act of Parliament.]

January 18th, 1839
Durham has come down from his high horse, and has at last
condescended to see Howick and Duncannon, the latter through the
mediation of John Ponsonby, who hopes by bringing them together to pave
the way, if not to a reconciliation, to a state of things less hostile and THE
MURDER OF LORD NORBURY. bitter in feeling and intention between him and the
Government. They are both anxious to avoid blows if possible, but it is so
difficult to avoid mutual inculpation and accusation, although only
professing exculpation, that it will be very strange if the matter does (as
many think it will) blow over lightly. The personal question between
Melbourne and Durham about Turton appears the most difficult to settle;
but if there is a will there will be a way, and it is easy enough to imagine the
sort of civil, complimentary assurances from one to the other, that though
there had been a great misunderstanding, it was no doubt unintentional, and
all that sort of palaver which is so familiar to old stagers and parliamentary
squabblers.
The murder of Lord Norbury[11] has made a great sensation because
the man is so conspicuous; for there seems no reason for believing that he

was murdered from any religious or political motive, but that it was only
another of the many prædial enormities that are from time to time
committed in Ireland. At present this event only serves to exasperate angry
passions, to call forth loud blasts of the never silent trumpet against
Romanism and the Irish population, and it does not lead men’s minds
immediately to a conviction of the necessity of calmly investigating, and if
possible applying a remedy to, a social condition so full of crime and
misery, and so revolting to every feeling of humanity, as that of Ireland. But
the death of this poor man will conduce to this end, for it is only through
long processes of evil and after much suffering that good is accomplished.
[11] [The Earl of Norbury was shot near his own house at Kilbeggan, in the
county of Meath. The assassin was never discovered.]

The case of the Canadian prisoners has been argued before the Court
of Queen’s Bench,[12] but it has not excited much interest. They give
judgement on Monday. Roebuck is said to have spoken very moderately.
[12] [Twelve Canadian prisoners having landed at Liverpool were brought
up on habeas corpus before Lord Denman and the Court of Queen’s Bench. The
court upheld the committal of the prisoners.]

January 24th, 1839
Duncannon found Durham in a very complacent mood, and he entered
with him fully into the subject of Canada and their quarrels. With respect to
Turton’s affairs, Durham denies he ever said, or authorised anybody else to
say, that the appointment had Melbourne’s consent, and he admits that
Melbourne did put his veto upon Turton’s appointment to office, but says he
considered this veto applicable only to offices under Government, and that
the place to which he appointed him was not under Government, but one at
his own disposal, and for which he was wholly and solely responsible. This
is his excuse, and a very bad one it is. It won’t go down in the House of
Lords, I imagine.
As the time draws near for the meeting of Parliament the probability of
ousting the Government grows fainter; we hear no more of disunion and
Radical hostility, and things promise to continue pretty much as they have
heretofore been. The question of absorbing interest is now the repeal or

alteration of the Corn Laws, and the declaration of war against them on the
part of the ‘Times’ has produced a great effect, and is taken as conclusive
evidence that they cannot be maintained, from the rare sagacity with which
this journal watches the turn of public affairs; besides that, its advocacy will
be of the greatest use in advancing the cause which it already had perceived
was likely to prevail. The rest of the Conservative press, the ‘Morning
Herald,’ ‘Post,’ and ‘Standard,’ support the Corn Laws, and the latter has
engaged in a single combat with the ‘Times,’ conducted with a kind of
chivalrous courtesy, owing to the concurrence of their general politics, very
unusual in newspaper warfare, and with great ability on both sides.

January 30th, 1839
After four months or more from the time when he threatened further
disclosures, and when, it appeared as if the whole matter had blown over,
how or why nobody could tell, Urquhart has published a fresh set of letters
which passed between himself and Backhouse,[13] for the purpose of
proving that the latter was a party to the publication of the ‘Portfolio.’
Backhouse, who was at Liverpool when these came out, wrote to desire
judgement might be suspended till THE ‘PORTFOLIO’. certain notes omitted by
Urquhart had been also published, and to-day they appeared; but instead of
making the case better, they have made it rather worse. It is altogether a
dirty transaction, and mortifying to those who care about the character of
public men, and who have some feeling of national pride and vanity in the
super-eminence of English statesmen for integrity and high-mindedness. It
is not very difficult to extract the truth from the mass of verbiage and
contradictory assertions in which it is involved, and it appears that
Urquhart, having got hold of the papers, communicated them to Palmerston,
offered to publish them, and was encouraged by him to do so. Urquhart,
who was appointed secretary of embassy at Constantinople while this
publication was going on, took every opportunity of consulting the Foreign
Office, and of trying to make Palmerston and his under-secretaries
participes criminis, in order that they might share the responsibility and
stand committed with him. Against this they fought, and while they took
good care that Urquhart should understand that they wished the publication
of the ‘Portfolio’ to be continued, they kept shifting and shirking in hopes of

not committing themselves materially. It is pretty clear that Backhouse
really disliked the whole thing, had no mind to meddle with the ‘Portfolio,’
or mix himself up with Urquhart, and it was only the official obligation that
was imposed upon him by Palmerston’s wishes which induced him very
reluctantly to engage in the business even so far as he did, and it is very
painful to see his early struggles to keep clear of it, and his present abortive
attempts to wriggle out of his concern with the publication. It is Palmerston
on whom the blame ought to rest, and on whom it will rest, only nobody
seems to take the least interest in the dispute, and he brazens it out in a very
unblushing manner. I am more particularly struck with the meanness here
exhibited, from having just been reading Lord Chatham’s correspondence,
in which his noble and lofty character, so abhorrent of everything like
trickery, shabbiness, and underhand dealing, shines forth with peculiar
lustre. It is animating and refreshing to turn to the contemplation of this
really great and noble mind, even more remarkable I think for dignity of
sentiment and purity of motive, than for eloquence and capacity.
[13] [Mr. Backhouse was at this time permanent Under Secretary of State
for Foreign Affairs. He filled this office from 1827 till 1842.]

February 6th, 1839
Last Friday the Serjeants’ case came on again before the Privy
Council. The Attorney and Solicitor made a sort of reply to Austin, but
acknowledged that the mandate was not binding on the Court of Common
Pleas; in fact, that it was illegal. Brougham was very angry, and kept
battling with counsel or with Wynford, Abinger, or others of the Lords,
though not violently. They were anxious to get rid of the question if
possible, and to avoid making a report to the Queen. The conclusion (pretty
nearly unanimous) to which they came was, that the order was illegal, but
that it was neither expedient that matters should return to their former, nor
remain in their present state; and they agreed to adjourn the consideration of
the question. They then separated with an understanding that a Bill should
be brought in directly to settle the dispute, and they don’t intend to meet
again upon it till this Bill has been passed. Thus they will avoid making any
report at all.

Brougham and Lyndhurst came to a Patent case the day before, both in
high spirits. After it was over Lyndhurst came into my room, when I said,
‘You look in high force.’ ‘Oh no,’ said he, ‘I am quite passé, entirely done
up.’ Just then Brougham came in, when I said to him, pointing to Lyndhurst,
‘He says he is quite passé and done up.’ ‘Just like me,’ he said; ‘I am quite
passé too.’ ‘Then,’ I said, ‘there can be no use in two such poor worn-out
creatures as you two going to the House of Lords.’ ‘Do you hear him?’ cried
out Brougham: ‘A capital suggestion of the Clerk of the Council: we won’t
go to the House of Lords at all; let us go together to Hamble.’[14] And then
he seized Lyndhurst’s arm, and off they went together chuckling and
laughing and brimful of mischief.
[14] Hamble is the country seat of Sir Arthur Paget, who was present with
Brougham.

He came out the night of the Address with a very brilliant speech, and
with a fierce and bitter philippic against O’Connell for having insinuated
that Lord Norbury had RESIGNATION OF LORD GLENELG. been shot by his own son.
Last night, O’Connell retaliated in the House of Commons, and denying
that he had even thought of, or insinuated any such thing, he hurled back an
invective still fiercer, bitterer, more insulting, and very powerful too. Very
little discussion grew out of the Queen’s Speech, all parties being agreed to
defer the consideration of great questions till brought regularly on. There
was a pretty strong demonstration in the House of Commons in favour of
the Corn Laws, so as to render it improbable that anything will be done. The
only thing which seems to threaten the Government at present is, the hatred
that has sprung up between the English Radicals and the Irish, and the
animosity which prevails among the former against O’Connell. If this is
carried to the length of inducing the English Radicals to keep aloof on some
important question, Ministers may find themselves in a minority, and resign
thereon; and this is what the Tories are looking to as their best chance.

February 10th, Sunday, 1839
On Friday, Lord Glenelg announced in the House of Lords that he had
resigned,[15] though it would have been more correct to have stated that he
had been turned out. He said very little, but that little conveyed a sense of

ill-usage and a mortified spirit; none of the Ministers uttered a word. Many
wonder that they ventured to make any changes in such a rickety concern,
and that, if they were resolved to do so, they did not have everything settled
before Parliament met. However, the Cabinet appears to have been
unanimous in determining that Glenelg could not remain Colonial Minister,
and they gave him a sort of hint some time ago, by offering him Sir John
Newport’s place (for whom an arrangement was to be made), which he
refused; so on Tuesday last the blow was struck, and they proposed to him
to be Privy Seal, which he declined in some dudgeon. It certainly was
difficult so to gild the pill he was asked to swallow as to disguise its
bitterness and make it tolerably palatable, for in whatever polite periphrasis
it might be involved, the plain English of the communication was, that he
was incompetent to administer Colonial affairs.

[15] [Lord Glenelg had held the office of Secretary of State for the Colonies
since the formation of Lord Melbourne’s second Administration in 1835. He was
succeeded in the Colonial Office by the Marquis of Normanby, who had filled up
to this time the office of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.]

By venturing upon these changes the Government evidently think they
can scramble on, and on the whole it is probable that they may, though
never did a Government hold office by so frail and uncertain a tenure, and
upon such strange terms. A pretty correct analysis of the House of
Commons presents the following result: 267 Government people, including
the Irish tail; 66 Radicals, 5 doubtful, and 315 Conservatives; 4 vacant
seats, and the Speaker. If, therefore, at any time, one half the Radicals
should stay away (they need not vote against), when danger threatens the
Government, it would be at an end; and if they do not do so, it is because
most of them are still unconvinced that it would be better and more
conducive to the ultimate success of their objects to let the Tories in, and
not from any love to the present Ministers, whom, on the contrary, they hate
a good deal and despise a little. The Irish band appear to be dependable, but
there is no knowing what might be the consequence of a change, and the
withdrawal of all the personal influence which Normanby had obtained
over them. It has often happened that a coalition of very opposite parties
has turned a Government out; but never before, that I remember, kept one
in, and for such a length of time. The Conservatives are completely united,
ably led, and count in their ranks the most powerful men in the House of
Commons; they are by far the most numerous of any of the parties, one-
third more than the Whigs (without the Irish), nearly five times more than
the Radicals, and within twenty of all combined; and yet they are as
effectually excluded as they were just after the passing of the Reform Bill,
for all that appears to the contrary.
Lord Durham’s enormously long Report[16] appeared in the LORD
DURHAM’S REPORT. ‘Times’ on Friday last, before being laid on the tables of the
two Houses, whereat he rose in his place and expressed much surprise and
displeasure, all of which was very ridiculous and superfluous, for he had
two thousand copies of it printed, and distributed them to the right and left,
to anybody who came to see him, to Foreign Ministers and others, so no
wonder that the document found its way into the ‘Times.’[17] He sent a copy
to Easthope, proprietor of the ‘Morning Chronicle,’ but with an injunction

not to publish it, and Easthope told him he wished he had kept his copy to
himself, for he could have obtained one elsewhere which he should have
been at liberty to publish if he had not accepted his with the prohibition.
[16] [This was the celebrated Report on the Administration of Canada,
which bore the name of Lord Durham, but was in fact written by Mr. Charles
Buller, and embodied the opinions of Mr. Gibbon Wakefield and Sir William
Molesworth on Colonial policy. It is not too much to say that in the course of the
next twenty years this Report changed the Colonial policy of the Empire, and the
principles laid down in it certainly converted Canada from a revolted colony into
one of the most loyal dependencies of the British Crown. What would have been
the result if the Ministers of George III. had treated the complaints of the
American colonies in 1774 with equal wisdom?]
[17] [The copy which appeared in the Times was sent to that journal by Mr.
Hanson, who was one of the persons attached to Lord Durham’s mission. He
afterwards became Sir Richard Davies Hanson, Chief Justice of South Australia.
This gentleman gave the following account of the transaction. The whole report
was written by Charles Buller, with the exception of two paragraphs on Church
or Crown lands, which were composed by Gibbon Wakefield and Mr. Hanson.
After the Report was presented to the Colonial Office, the Government wished
these last two paragraphs to be modified. This Lord Durham was inclined to do.
Wakefield resented this and, in order to prevent any change, he got Hanson to
send a copy of the Report to the Times, where it appeared the next day. These
particulars have been communicated to me by a gentleman to whom Sir Richard
Hanson related them.]

February 14th, 1839
Lord Normanby was not acquainted with the intention of dismissing
Glenelg, nor was the thing settled when he was here; on the contrary, he had
made every preparation for the Dublin season, and is put to serious
inconvenience by being thus suddenly sent for. Glenelg continues to
discharge the official duties, but he is deeply hurt at the treatment he has
experienced. It is the more remarkable because at this moment his official
correspondence with Durham is published, in which he displays firmness,
dignity, and sense, so that the world can discern no good cause why he
should be so unceremoniously turned off. Melbourne urged him to retire
when his brother (Sir Robert Grant) died; but Glenelg thought this was from
kindness and consideration, and was so touched, that he deemed it the more
incumbent on him to remain at his post. Normanby will probably do much
better, for though he has nothing like the natural abilities of his predecessor,

he has the knack of succeeding in whatever he undertakes; he has
application, courage, and sense, and all this in spite of a frivolous exterior.
In Ireland, however obnoxious to the Orangemen, his government has been
successful, and I know of no error that he has committed, except that of too
often releasing prisoners and commuting punishments without the sanction
and concurrence of the Judges. Nothing is so dangerous and imprudent as to
tamper with justice, and John Russell himself has upon several occasions
been rash and flippant in this respect. It is not long ago that a man was tried
and found guilty, at the Sessions, of destroying a will with a fraudulent
intent. I forget what the punishment was, but a petition for mercy was
handed up to the Secretary of State’s office—got up by the clergyman of the
parish, and signed by many names. Without consulting the magistrates who
had convicted the man, he reduced the punishment to two months’
imprisonment, and it turned out that the clergyman was himself a man of
indifferent character, who had been promoted at the instance of Lord
Fitzwilliam, and the rest of the subscribers to the petition were ignorant
people who had signed it at his instigation: the object was unworthy of the
indulgence which was carelessly and improperly extended. These things
exasperate the magistracy, whom Lord John is apt to regard with aversion
and suspicion; but the Judges are deeply offended when their sentences are
arbitrarily set aside, as they have sometimes been.
The Corn Law question, which appeared so formidable before
Parliament met, has lost much of its terrors; and an error committed by one
of its champions, Mr. Wood of THE CORN LAW QUESTION. Preston, greatly assisted
to damage it. Peel turned against him certain admissions which he made of
the prosperity of trade, with extraordinary dexterity and effect. The Anti-
Corn-Lawites were so enraged and mortified that they punished their
blundering advocate by dismissing him from his post of President of the
Manchester Chamber of Commerce; and his constituents invited him to
resign. This, and the strong demonstration in favour of the existing system
the first night, the divided opinions and indifference of the Government,
and the diversion made by the Chartists, have placed the Corn Laws in
perfect security for this session at least. It is curious to see the conduct of
the ‘Times’: just before Parliament met it thought the time was come when
something must be done, and it accordingly took up the cudgels against the

Corn Laws; but now that it finds the time is not come, it has dropped the
subject altogether, and relapsed into silence.
There seems very little probability of any discussion about Canadian
affairs till Government introduces some legislative measure, and the
expected personalities and recriminations will silently pass away.
Brougham and Durham are reconciled after a fashion; Ministers and
Durham mutually desire to sheathe their swords. The correspondence which
has just appeared at the tail of the Report exhibits a grand specimen of
arrogance and vanity on Durham’s part, not unmixed with talent, albeit his
letters are intolerably prolix. Glenelg has, however, much the best of the
controversy as soon as they begin to cross their weapons, and his despatch
conveying the Queen’s disapprobation of his Proclamation is very dignified
and becomingly severe. It is impossible to conceive anything more galling
to a man so puffed up with pride and vanity, and who fancied himself to be
placed upon a pinnacle far above the sphere of official obligation and
responsibility.
It is curious to see the different measure that was dealt out to Durham
and to Head,[18] the latter an able, though not always a prudent man, who
really did good service in his government, and extricated himself boldly and
successfully from a very difficult situation. He had dismissed a Judge for
certain reasons, part of which he explained to the Colonial Office, and for
the rest he told them that he must, in the difficult position he was in, draw
upon their confidence to support and confirm his act. They said this was not
enough, and insisted on his restoring the Judge. Upon this he tendered his
resignation, which they instantly accepted; and when he came home they
took no notice of him whatever, and at the same time they were flattering
and lauding and trying to cajole Durham, and begging and praying him to
stay, in the midst of his blundering acts and insolent language, and while he
was addressing the Government in the most contumelious terms. Head has
behaved very well about the publication of his despatches; for when he
asked Melbourne’s leave to publish, and the latter refused, he promised that
nothing should appear, and that he would discourage any Parliamentary
attempt to elicit them. Now that Durham’s Report has come forth,
containing strictures on Head’s conduct, he assumes a right to publish, for
his own vindication, and he has asserted this in a pettish letter to
Melbourne; whereas, if he had again asked for permission on this express

ground, it would not have been refused. The motto of this Government,
however, seems to be,—
parcere superbis et debellare subjectos,
and their besetting sins are pusillanimity, indifference, and insouciance. On
a discussion the other night about speaking on petitions, when the Speaker
laid down the practice, which Lord John Russell supported with great
earnestness, and which was opposed on Radical grounds by the Radicals,
Stewart of the Treasury, and Vernon Smith, marched off and would not
vote; and, instead of being reprimanded, Vernon Smith will probably be
made Under Secretary of State.
[18] [Right Hon. Sir Francis Bond Head, who was Governor of Upper
Canada at the time of the outbreak of the insurrection.]

February 17th, 1839
I dined at Lady Blessington’s yesterday, to meet Durham and
Brougham; but, after all, the latter did not come, and the excuse he made
was, that it was better not; and as he was taking, or going to take (we shall
see), a GORE HOUSE. moderate course about Canada, it would impair his
efficacy if the press were to trumpet forth, and comment on, his meeting
with Durham. There was that sort of strange omnium gatherum party which
is to be met with nowhere else, and which for that reason alone is curious.
We had Prince Louis Napoleon and his A.D.C.[19] He is a short, thickish,
vulgar-looking man, without the slightest resemblance to his Imperial uncle,
or any intelligence in his countenance. Then we had the ex-Governor of
Canada, Captain Marriott, the Count Alfred de Vigny (author of ‘Cinq
Mars’ &c.), Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer, and a proper sprinkling of ordinary
persons to mix up with these celebrities. In the evening, Forster, sub-editor
of the ‘Examiner;’ Chorley, editor of the ‘Athenæum;’ Macready, and
Charles Buller. Lady Blessington’s existence is a curiosity, and her house
and society have at least the merit of being singular, though the latter is not
so agreeable as from its composition it ought to be. There is no end to the
men of consequence and distinction in the world who go there occasionally
—Brougham, Lyndhurst, Abinger, Canterbury, Durham, and many others;

all the minor poets, literati, and journalists, without exception, together
with some of the highest pretensions. Moore is a sort of friend of hers; she
has been very intimate with Byron, and is with Walter Savage Landor. Her
house is furnished with a luxury and splendour not to be surpassed; her
dinners are frequent and good; and D’Orsay does the honours with a
frankness and cordiality which are very successful; but all this does not
make society, in the real meaning of the term. There is a vast deal of
coming and going, and eating and drinking, and a corresponding amount of
noise, but little or no conversation, discussion, easy quiet interchange of
ideas and opinions, no regular social foundation of men of intellectual or
literary calibre ensuring a perennial flow of conversation, and which, if it
existed, would derive strength and assistance from the light superstructure
of occasional visitors, with the much or the little they might individually
contribute. The reason of this is that the woman herself, who must give the
tone to her own society, and influence its character, is ignorant, vulgar, and
commonplace.[20] Nothing can be more dull and uninteresting than her
conversation, which is never enriched by a particle of knowledge, or
enlivened by a ray of genius or imagination. The fact of her existence as an
authoress is an enigma, poor as her pretensions are; for while it is very
difficult to write good books, it is not easy to compose even bad ones, and
volumes have come forth under her name for which hundreds of pounds
have been paid, because (Heaven only can tell how) thousands are found
who will read them. Her ‘Works’ have been published in America, in one
huge folio, where it seems they meet with peculiar success; and this trash
goes down, because it is written by a Countess, in a country where rank is
eschewed, and equality is the universal passion. They have (or some of
them) been likewise translated into German; and if all this is not proof of
literary merit, or at least of success, what is? It would be not uninteresting
to trace this current of success to its source, and to lay bare all the springs of
the machinery which sustains her artificial character as an authoress. The
details of course form the mystery of her craft, but the general causes are
apparent enough. First and foremost, her magnificent house and luxurious
dinners; then the alliance offensive and defensive which she has contrived
(principally through the means of said house and dinners) to establish with
a host of authors, booksellers, and publishers, and above all with journalists.
The first lend GORE HOUSE. her their assistance in composition, correction, or
addition; with the second she manages to establish an interest and an

interchange of services; and the last everlastingly puff her performances.
Her name is eternally before the public; she produces those gorgeous
inanities, called ‘Books of Beauty,’ and other trashy things of the same
description, to get up which all the fashion and beauty, the taste and talent,
of London are laid under contribution. The most distinguished artists and
the best engravers supply the portraits of the prettiest women in London;
and these are illustrated with poetical effusions of the smallest possible
merit, but exciting interest and curiosity from the notoriety of their authors;
and so, by all this puffing and stuffing, and untiring industry, and practising
on the vanity of some, and the good-nature of others, the end is attained;
and though I never met with any individual who had read any of her books,
except the ‘Conversations with Byron,’ which are too good to be hers, they
are unquestionably a source of considerable profit, and she takes her place
confidently and complacently as one of the literary celebrities of her day.
[19] [The first mention of His Imperial Majesty Napoleon III., who was an
habitué of Gore House, and well known to all who frequented it. The A.D.C. was
M. de Persigny, who accompanied the Prince everywhere.]
[20] [Lady Blessington had a good deal more talent and reading than Mr.
Greville gives her credit for. Several years of her agitated life were spent in the
country in complete retirement, where she had no resources to fall back upon but
a good library. She was well read in the best English authors, and even in
translations of the classics; but the talent to which she owed her success in
society was her incomparable tact and skill in drawing out the best qualities of
her guests. What Mr. Greville terms her vulgarity might be more charitably
described as her Irish cordiality and bonhomie. I have no doubt that her
‘Conversations with Lord Byron’ were entirely written by herself. It is true that,
writing, as she did, to make money, many of her other books were exceedingly
worthless.]

CHAPTER V.
Opening of the Session — Lady Flora Hastings — Bulwer’s
‘Richelieu’ — Changes at the Colonial Office — Attack on Lord
Normanby’s Irish Administration in the Lords — General
Aspect of Affairs — The ‘Morning Chronicle’ — Death of Lord
de Ros — Precarious Position of the Government — Views of
Lord John Russell — A doubtful Question — Conciliatory
Conversation with Sir James Graham — Attitude of the Whig
Party — Peel’s cold Reception of the Proposal — Result of the
Debate — Attitude of Lord John Russell — Language of the
Radical Party — Conciliation — Change of Feeling in the
Country — Duke of Newcastle dismissed from the Lord
Lieutenancy — Lord John Russell’s Letter — Jamaica Bill —
Defeat of the Jamaica Bill — Resignation of Ministers — The
Queen retains the Ladies of her Household — Conduct of the
Whigs — End of the Crisis — The Truth of the Story.

London: February 24th, 1839
Hitherto the proceedings in Parliament have been sufficiently languid
and uninteresting. The debate on the Corn Laws, which was expected to
occupy two or three nights, went off in one, and a great majority against
hearing evidence, followed by no sort of sensation, has set the question at
rest for the present. Lord Winchilsea brought on the Turton case in the
House of Lords, when Durham made a blustering, and Melbourne a
prudent, moderate, and satisfactory explanation. He had remonstrated
against the appointment, when Durham had replied that his honour was
concerned in it and he could not cancel it; and Melbourne said, he did not
think he should be justified in hazarding the great objects of Durham’s
mission for such an object as Turton’s removal. Durham threatened, if

anything more was said on the subject, to bring forward the cases of all
those who had been guilty of a similar offence, and had afterwards held
office. He did not say what he had to say well, for he might have exposed
the cant of all this hubbub, and have asked Winchilsea, who CHANGES AT THE
COLONIAL OFFICE. talked of sense of duty and so forth, and that he should have
done the same by his dearest friend, whether he had thought it necessary to
make a similar stir when Sir George Murray was appointed Secretary of
State; and, besides this argumentum ad hominem, he might have asked,
whether in point of fact it was an admitted principle that those who had
committed heavy offences against the laws of morality should be therefore
disqualified from serving in a civil capacity. However the question is at an
end, and has gone off smoothly enough all things considered.[1]
[1] [Sir George Murray had run away with Lady Louisa Erskine, whom he
afterwards married. But Turton’s breach of morality was of a more serious
character. Mr., or as he afterwards became Sir Thomas, Turton had been guilty of
an intrigue with his sister-in-law, which led to the dissolution of his marriage. On
this ground Lord Melbourne had objected to his going out to Canada with Lord
Durham in a public capacity; but Lord Durham, with very bad taste, took him out
in what he was pleased to call a private capacity. The public, as this was a
question of morals, were slow to accept this distinction.]

After much difficulty about filling up Sir George Grey’s place at the
Colonies,[2] Labouchere has very handsomely volunteered to take it, though
lower in rank and pay, and far more laborious than that which he before
held. They did not venture to ask him, but it was thrown out by Le
Marchant that he would be the most eligible successor to Grey; when he
said immediately, that if Government thought he could be of use to them
and to the public, and he was satisfied the measures to be proposed would
be such as he could conscientiously support, he would take the office
without hesitation. They took him at his word, and he was installed
instanter; had he not taken it, Ben Stanley would have gone there. These
changes have so much disconcerted Stephen that he has proposed to resign,
and it is still a question whether he does or not; but they will hardly let him
go, for his knowledge and powers of wielding the business cannot be
dispensed with, particularly by two men perfectly new and inexperienced in
Colonial affairs.
[2] [Sir George Grey, who had been Under Secretary for the Colonies, was
made Judge Advocate and a Privy Councillor on the 1st of March, 1839. Mr.
Labouchere, who had been Vice-President of the Board of Trade and Master of

the Mint since 1835, very handsomely consented to take the inferior office at the
Colonies. Mr. Labouchere, however, returned to the Board of Trade as President
on the 29th of August, 1839. Mr. Stephen was the permanent Under Secretary for
the Colonies.]

March 2nd, 1839
The whole town has been engrossed for some days with a scandalous
story at Court, and although of course great exaggerations and falsehoods
are grafted upon the real case, and it is not easy to ascertain what and how
much is true, enough is known and indubitable, to show that it is a very
discreditable transaction. It appears that Lady Flora Hastings, the Duchess
of Kent’s lady, has been accused of being with child. It was at first
whispered about, and at last swelled into a report, and finally into a charge.
With whom it originated is not clear; but the Queen appears to have been
apprised of the rumour, and so far to have entered into it as to sanction an
intimation to the lady that she must not appear at Court till she could clear
herself of the imputation. Medical examination was either demanded by her
or submitted to, and the result was satisfactory to the virtue of the accused
damsel. Then naturally exploded the just indignation of insulted honour.
Her brother, Lord Hastings, came up to town, saw Melbourne, who is said
to have endeavoured to smother the affair, and to have tried to persuade
Lord Hastings to do so; but he was not at all so inclined, and if he had been,
it was too late, as all the world had begun to talk of it, and he demanded and
obtained an audience of the Queen. I abstain from noticing the various
reports of what this or that person did or said, for the truth of which I could
not vouch; but it is certain that the Court is plunged in shame and
mortification at the exposure, that the palace is full of bickerings and heart-
burnings, while the whole proceeding is looked upon by society at large as
to the last degree disgusting and disgraceful. It is really an exemplification
of the saying, that ‘les Rois et les Valets’ are made of the refuse clay of
creation, for though such things sometimes happen in the servants’ hall, and
housekeepers charge still-room and kitchen-maids with frailty, they are
unprecedented and unheard of in good society, and among people in high or
even in respectable stations. It is inconceivable BULWER’S ‘RICHELIEU’. how
Melbourne can have permitted this disgraceful and mischievous scandal,
which cannot fail to lower the character of the Court in the eyes of the

world. There may be objections to Melbourne’s extraordinary domiciliation
in the palace; but the compensation ought to be found in his good sense and
experience preventing the possibility of such transactions and tracasseries
as these.[3]
[3] [I insert this passage on a painful transaction which had better be
consigned to oblivion, because it contains nothing which is not to be found in the
most ordinary books of reference; but I shall not enter further on this matter.]

At Court yesterday to appoint Ebrington Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland:
they all looked busy and affairés, and the Queen seemed very grave.

March 8th, 1839
I went last night to the first representation of Bulwer’s play
‘Richelieu:’ a fine play, admirably got up, and very well acted by Macready,
except the last scene, the conception of which was altogether bad. He
turned Richelieu into an exaggerated Sixtus V., who completely lost sight of
his dignity, and swaggered about the stage, taunting his foes, and hugging
his friends with an exultation quite unbecoming and out of character. With
this exception it was a fine performance; the success was unbounded, and
the audience transported. After Macready had been called on, they found
out Bulwer, who was in a small private box next the one I was in with Lady
Blessington and D’Orsay, and were vociferous for his appearance to receive
their applause. After a long delay, he bowed two or three times, and
instantly retreated. Directly after he came into our box, looking very serious
and rather agitated; while Lady Blessington burst into floods of tears at his
success, which was certainly very brilliant.

March 12th, 1839
The Government have offered Canada to Lord Clarendon,[4] who is
coming home to give his answer in person. They are resolved to make
maison nette at the Colonial Office, and want to oust Stephen; but the
publication of Sir Francis Head’s extraordinary book,[5]—in which he is
denounced as a Republican, and as the author of all the mischievous policy

by which our Colonial possessions have been endangered, and his dismissal
is loudly demanded—makes it impossible for Stephen to retire, or for
Government to invite him to do so. Stephen cannot vindicate himself,
except by divulging official secrets which he considers it would be a
grievous breach of trust and duty to do; but he declares to me that he has
abundant means of vindication in his hands if he chose to avail himself of
them. The world believes that each Secretary of State (Glenelg particularly)
has been a mere puppet in his office, and that it is Stephen who has moved
all the strings; but the fact is, there have been three parties—Stephen,
Glenelg, and the Cabinet; and though the first may have exercised a great
influence over the second, it has often happened, that both have been
overruled by the last, and neither Head nor anybody else can do more than
conjecture what has really been the secret history of our Colonial policy.
Glenelg, however, was evidently feeble, and his faculties seem to have been
entirely benumbed ever since the flagellations he got from Brougham in the
beginning of last session. His terror of Brougham is so intense that he
would submit to any humiliation rather than again expose his back to such a
merciless scourge.[6]
[4] [Sir George Villiers, then Minister at Madrid, succeeded to the title of
Earl of Clarendon on the 22nd of December, 1838. He shortly afterwards
resigned his diplomatic appointment in Spain and returned to England.]
[5] [Whatever credit for discretion Sir Francis Bond Head might previously
have enjoyed was more than effaced by the extraordinary indiscretion of ‘A
Narrative of Recent Events in Canada,’ which he published at this time.]
[6] They became great friends again at a subsequent period. Brougham has
been always throwing off and whistling back his friends.

March 25th, 1839
Laid up with the gout for these ten days, in which time the only
occurrences of moment have been the great (and final) debate on the Corn
Laws, and the hostile vote in the House of Lords,[7] followed by John
Russell’s LORD NORMANBY’S IRISH ADMINISTRATION. declaration in the House of
Commons, and appeal to that House from the vote of the Lords. The Corn
debate was extremely long and dull, and the House more than usually
clamorous and impotent. The only speech was Peel’s, said to have been

exceedingly able; the division was better for the Cornites, and worse for
their antagonists, than had been expected; the decision received with great
indifference, and the question put on the shelf for some time.
[7] [On the 18th of March Mr. Charles Villiers’ motion for a Committee to
take into consideration the duties on corn was defeated in the House of
Commons by 342 to 195 votes. I know not why Mr. Greville styles it the ‘final’
debate, which it certainly was not.
On the 21st of March Lord Roden carried in the House of Lords, by a
majority of five, a motion for a Committee to inquire into the state of Ireland
since 1835. This motion was directed against Lord Normanby’s Administration.
Shortly afterwards this motion was met by a resolution of Lord John Russell’s in
the House of Commons approving the Irish policy of the Government, which
was carried by 318 to 296.]

The other affair is much more interesting, because more personal, and
involving the existence of the Government. There seems to have been an
abundance of angry feeling and a great lack of discretion and judgement on
all sides: first of all in the House of Lords thus lightly and somewhat
loosely pressing this vote, and going the length of appointing a Committee;
and why the Duke of Wellington consented to it is difficult to see, unless it
be that his mind is a little enfeebled, and his strong sense no longer
exercises the same sway. They hardly seem to have intended what they did,
for they made no whip up, and Lord Wicklow went away without voting. As
it was, Government had better have rested upon their old declaration, that as
long as they were supported by the House of Commons they should
disregard the opposition of the House of Lords; and so in fact they would
have done, if the next day Normanby had not flared up so violently and
insisted on resignation or reparation. At the Cabinet there was a long
discussion whether they should resign or not, and the Speaker, Ellice, and
others of their friends, were strongly for their taking this opportunity of
retiring with all their strength, and upon a question which would have
rendered it next to impossible for their successors to go on if they took their
places. The result, however, was the declaration of John Russell, and their
determination to try their strength in the House of Commons. If the
Radicals support them they will get their usual majority of from fifteen to
twenty; but it does not appear that they will gain much by that, for the
Lords will go on with their Committee and put Normanby on his trial
without caring for the vote of the Commons.

With regard to the merits of the case, Normanby’s Government was no
doubt on the whole carried on in a very good spirit; but as it was in an Irish
spirit, it was of course obnoxious to the old dominant party. There is not the
slightest suspicion that in his exercise of the prerogative of mercy he was
ever influenced by any improper motives or showed any partiality; though
Lord Wellesley said, that ‘he dramatised royalty, and made mercy appear
blind instead of justice.’ But the system is of very questionable propriety,
and on some occasions he probably was rather too free with it, and went a
little further than in strict prudence he ought to have done. Generally
speaking, however, on this point as well as on the other grounds on which
he has been attacked, he has defended himself with great vigour and
success. The night after the debate, he gave Brougham a heavy fall, and
exposed his glaring inconsistency and falseness. Brougham is said to have
appeared more annoyed and crestfallen than ever he did before. He
certainly made a very poor and inefficient reply.
Nothing would be more unfortunate than a change of Government as
the result of this blow aimed by the House of Lords, and under the auspices
of Roden, the leader of the Orangemen. Ireland is the great strength of the
present Government as it is the weak point of the Tories; and if they went
out, and Peel came in upon Ireland, and the principle on which he should
govern that country, he would never keep his place, and nobody could tell
what troubles might not ensue. It is Peel’s interest that Irish questions
should assume such a shape, and make such a progress, before he returns to
office, as should render their final adjustment inevitable. If things were left
alone, and time and the hour permitted us to run through the present rough
days, it would be impossible to prevent great changes taking place before
long. The country is beset with difficulties on all sides, if WEAKNESS OF THE
GOVERNMENT. not with danger; besides the ever rankling thorn of Ireland, there
are the Chartists and the Anti-Corn Law agitators, to say nothing of minor
reformers in England, and the whole of our Colonial Empire in a most
unsettled, precarious, and difficult state, requiring the utmost wisdom and
firmness in dealing with Colonial interests, and our relations with America
demanding firmness, temper, and sagacity. But, while the country has thus
urgent need of all the ability and experience which can be enlisted in her
service, from the curious position of parties in the House of Commons, and
the mode in which power is distributed, we have at once a Government

miserably weak, unable to exercise a will of its own, bolstered up by the
interested and uncertain support of men more inimical than friendly to
them; while the most distinguished statesmen and the men who are admitted
to be the fittest to govern, are effectually excluded from office. While we
have a Cabinet in which there is not one man who inspires confidence, and
in which, with the exception perhaps of John Russell (who is broken in
health and spirits), there is not one deserving to be called a statesman,—to
this Cabinet is committed the awful task of solving the many difficult
questions of domestic, colonial, and foreign policy which surround and
press upon us; while the Duke of Wellington and Peel are compelled ‘to
stand like ciphers in the great account.’ The great characteristic of the
present time is indifference: nobody appears to care for anything; nobody
cares for the Queen, her popularity has sunk to zero, and loyalty is a dead
letter; nobody cares for the Government, or for any man or set of men. If
there was such a thing as a strong public opinion alive to national interests,
intent upon national objects, and deeply sensible to the necessity of calling
to the national councils all the wisdom and experience that the crisis
demands, its voice would be heard, the two parties would cease to hold each
other at bay, there would be either a great change or a fusion in some
reasonable spirit of compromise, and we should see a Government with
some energy, independence and power, and this is what we want. But
Melbourne seems to hold office for no other purpose but that of dining at
Buckingham House, and he is content to rub on from day to day, letting all
things take their chance. Palmerston, the most enigmatical of Ministers,
who is detested by the Corps Diplomatique, abhorred in his own office,
unpopular in the House of Commons, liked by nobody, abused by
everybody, still reigns in his little kingdom of the Foreign Office, and is
impervious to any sense of shame from the obloquy that has been cast upon
him, and apparently not troubling himself about the affairs of the
Government generally, which he leaves to others to defend and uphold as
they best may. The only man besides John Russell in the Cabinet who
stands high in estimation is Morpeth, and it is remarkable that in this
Government the young ones or subordinates are its chief strength. Morpeth,
Labouchere, George Grey, and Francis Baring are better men than almost
any in the Cabinet, which is certainly the most second-rate one this country
ever saw.

March 28th, 1839
It is amusing to see the nervous consciousness on both the Tory and
the Whig side of blunders having been committed by each in this
demonstration of the Lords and retort of the Government. The Chancellor of
the Exchequer came into my room yesterday, and told me that Lord Spencer
had expressed his strenuous approbation of the course they had taken, just
the right medium, neither too much nor too little; and this sanction he
seemed to think very valuable, though in fact worth nothing, for Lord
Spencer lives among oxen, and not among men. On the other hand, I met
Graham, and said to him, ‘A pretty scrape you would have been in if
Government had resigned upon this vote.’ He shrugged up his shoulders and
said, ‘I own I am better pleased as it is.’ No great party should do things by
halves and doubtingly: if the leaders thought the case was so grave as to call
for the interference of the House, and that they were justified in taking this
matter into their own hands, they ought to have brought down all their
forces, and have given their vote all the authority it would derive from an
imposing majority. No maxim is more clearly understood than that any
party having generally a large majority, and DEFECTION OF THE MORNING CHRONICLE.
only carrying some particular question by a very small one, suffers
something like a defeat, because it implies that they have not the
concurrence on such question of many of their usual supporters. This was,
therefore, a false move one way or the other. The Government, however,
have no doubt of carrying their point by as large a majority as they ever can
have.
They are in a great rage, and in no small dismay at the same time, at
the conduct of the ‘Morning Chronicle,’ which has turned half against them
in a most extraordinary manner, that is, it is urging the Radicals to seize this
opportunity of compelling the Government to go their lengths, and to make
such compliance the condition of their support. Government are so
indignant that they want to break off with the ‘Chronicle’ altogether; but
then they will be left in the awkward predicament of having no morning
paper whatever in their service. What nettles them the more is, that they
made the ‘Chronicle’ what it is, and raised it by their exertions from the
lowest ebb to its present very good circulation. Just before Peel’s hundred
days it was for sale, and had then fallen to about a thousand a day. Easthope
was persuaded by Ellice to buy it, which he did for 15,000ℓ. or 20,000ℓ.

The Whigs set to work, and Hobhouse, Normanby, Poulett Thomson, Le
Marchant, and several others, wrote day after day a succession of good
articles which soon renovated the paper and set it on its legs. The
circulation increased daily till it got up to three thousand, and now it has
reached six thousand. Easthope makes a clear 10,000 ℓ . a year by the
speculation; but now, seeing (or thinking he sees) greater advantages to be
got by floating down the Radical stream than by assisting in the defence of
this Government, he forgets past favours and connexion, and is ready to
abandon them to their fate. It is rather an ominous sign and marks strongly
their falling estimation. They think it is Durham who has got hold of
Easthope, and persuades him to take this course. He declares he is so beset
with applications, advice, and threats, that he has no alternative, and must
take the line he does, or ruin the sale of his paper.

Newmarket, March 29th, 1839
Poor De Ros[8] expired last night soon after twelve, after a
confinement of two or three months from the time he returned to England.
His end was enviably tranquil, and he bore his protracted sufferings (more
from oppression and annoyance than acute pain) with astonishing fortitude
and composure. Nothing ruffled his temper or disturbed his serenity. His
faculties were unclouded, his memory retentive, his perceptions clear to the
last; no murmur of impatience ever escaped him, no querulous word, no
ebullition of anger or peevishness; he was uniformly patient, mild,
indulgent, deeply sensible of kindness and attention, exacting nothing,
considerate of others and apparently regardless of self, overflowing with
affection and kindness of manner and language to all around him, and
exerting all his moral and intellectual energies with a spirit and resolution
that never flagged till within a few hours of his dissolution, when nature
gave way and he sank into a tranquil unconsciousness in which life gently
ebbed away. Whatever may have been the error of his life, he closed the
scene with a philosophical dignity not unworthy of a sage, and with a
serenity and sweetness of disposition of which Christianity itself could
afford no more shining or delightful example. In him I have lost (half lost
before) the last and greatest of the friends of my youth, and I am left a more
solitary and a sadder man.

[8] [Henry William, 19th Baron de Ros, born 12th June 1792; died 29th
March 1839.]

London, April 6th, 1839
I saw X. at Newmarket, and had a long conversation with him, in
which he gave me an account of the state of affairs. The Government is at
its last gasp; the result of the debate next week may possibly prolong its
existence, as a cordial does that of a dying man, but it cannot go on. They
are disunited, dissatisfied, and disgusted in the Cabinet—Lord John himself
deeply so—considerably alarmed at the state of affairs, resolutely bent upon
making no further concessions to Radicalism, and no sacrifices for mere
party purposes. There is a violent faction in the Cabinet and in the
Government, who are indignant LORD JOHN RUSSELL’S FINALITY. with him for his
finality speech last year, to which they ascribe the ruin of their cause, and
Duncannon at the time, or soon after, abused him openly and loudly for it.
This reached Lord John’s ears, who complained of such conduct, and the
more because he had summoned a special Cabinet for the purpose of
announcing that it was his intention to make this declaration, therefore they
were all apprised of it, whereas Duncannon had asserted that he did it
without the knowledge of his colleagues. It turned out in the course of the
explanation that Duncannon had been laid up at the time, and was not
present at this Cabinet, but he could hardly have been ignorant of such an
important circumstance, and this shows the animus there was among some
of them. The principal object of the more radically-inclined was to let
Ballot be an open question, and to this Melbourne had been persuaded to
consent, though no doubt quite contrary to his own wishes and opinions.
But Melbourne has no strong convictions or opinions founded on political
principles deeply engraven on his mind; he is easy, insouciant, persuadable,
averse to disputes, and preferring to sacrifice his own convictions to the
pertinacity and violence of others, rather than manfully and consistently
defend and maintain them; still he looks up to John Russell and defers to
him more than to any of his colleagues, both on account of his respect for
his character and the station he holds as leader of the House of Commons;
and when any struggle occurs, and he must side with one or the other party,

he goes with Lord John, and accordingly Ballot was not made an open
question.
What Lord John says is this: That when the Reform Bill was
introduced, the extent and sweeping character of the measure were hateful
and alarming to many members of the Cabinet and supporters of the
Government; that the ground on which he urged the adoption of the
measure was the expediency of leaving nothing for future agitation, and of
giving the country a measure so ample and satisfactory that it might and
ought to be final. To this argument many who dreaded its consequences
ended by yielding, though reluctantly, and he considers himself, therefore,
bound in honour to resist any further changes, and to take his stand where
we now are. Besides this he now (as I gather) is seriously alarmed at the
state of the country, and deeply impressed with the necessity of opposing all
the Radical measures and propositions, which he considers parts of a great
system, and a comprehensive scheme of a revolutionary character. Then he
is disgusted and mortified at the treatment he has personally experienced
both in and out of the House of Commons, and at the clamour and abuse of
which he has been the object on account of the firm determination he has
evinced to go no further; and this clamour has not been confined to the
regular avowed Radicals or the organs of their opinions, but there are old
self-styled Whigs—his uncle, Lord William, for example—and others, who
are groaning over his obstinacy as they deem it, and attributing to it the ruin
of their party; all this superadded to his broken spirits[9] makes him heartily
sick of his position; and, seeing the unpopularity and weakness of the
Government, denuded of all sympathy and support, and left to be buffeted
by the Tories on one side and the Radicals on the other, he is aware, and not
sorry to be aware, that the last act is at hand. Of this approaching
catastrophe probably all the others are as well aware as himself, but there
are some among them who earnestly desire that it should be so brought
about as to make it next to impossible for those who may succeed them to
carry on the Government. This, however, is not the object of Lord John
Russell, who, on the contrary, desires that the next Government may be so
formed and so conducted as to enable him to support it, and to bring with
him such strength in its aid as may place it beyond the reach of danger.
Whether they get a majority or not on the 15th, he knows that they cannot
go on much longer. The Queen will do whatever Melbourne advises her,

and he will advise her to send for the Duke of Wellington, who, in his turn,
LORD JOHN’S FRIENDLINESS TO PEEL. will desire her to send for Peel. Whether or no
any attempt would be made towards a coalition, or a wide comprehension,
on the formation of the Government, nothing would induce Lord John to
take office, but he would be desirous of supporting Peel’s Government, if he
could with honour, and if the circumstances attending the change should
render it possible for him as well as for others disposed to follow his course,
to do so. He thinks that it is of great consequence that there should be no
dissolution, which would throw the country into a ferment, lead to violent
manifestations and declarations, and to many people being obliged to
pledge themselves to measures of a dangerous tendency. He wishes,
therefore, to place Peel in such a situation as shall exonerate him from the
necessity of a dissolution, by giving him a fair general though independent
support; but the power to do this depends much upon the temper that is
displayed, and upon the mode in which the change is effected; for if the
Tories cannot be restrained from the exhibition of an insulting and
triumphant demeanour, the exasperation and desire of revenge in the
discomfited party will be too great and general to admit of his aiding the
new Government with an imposing force, and he is therefore solicitous that
prudence and moderation should govern the Conservative councils. I asked
X. whether he thought that there were many others likely to take this view
and to follow Lord John’s example and advice, and he said that there were.
[9] [Adelaide, daughter of Thomas Lister, Esquire, and widow of the second
Lord Ribblesdale, was the first wife of Lord John Russell: she died on the 1st
November 1838, to the great grief of the Minister.]

All this, which is a brief abstract of our two conversations, appeared to
me of so much importance, and, above all, that it is so desirable that the
sentiments of the Whig leader should be made known to the future Minister,
that I asked X. whether there would be any objection to my making known
as much as it was desirable to impart of our conversation without
committing anybody, and carefully abstaining from giving what I might say
the air of a communication between parties in any shape or way. He said
that it certainly might be very useful that there should be some such
knowledge of these sentiments conveyed to the proper quarter, but he did
not think the time was yet come, and that for the present I had better say
nothing; to which I replied that, as it might have an important effect upon
their deliberations which would be held previously to the debate on the

15th, and upon the conduct of Peel and his party on that occasion, I thought
that the sooner the communication took place the better, as there could be
no doubt that the temper displayed and the conduct pursued by the different
parties on that occasion would have a very material effect upon all future
arrangements, and upon the condition, prospects, and necessities of the new
administration. I told X. that there was nothing I had such a horror of as
repeating things from one party to another, of retailing political gossip, and
of the appearance of worming myself into the confidence of individuals of
one side, and then betraying it to those of another; that I would not therefore
make the slightest use of what he had told me without his entire permission,
and whatever I might say, I should faithfully report to him. He, who knows
me, was quite satisfied; but others might not be. Then I have the greatest
doubt to whom I should speak. The only individuals I can think of are the
Duke, Fitzgerald, Graham, Wharncliffe, or Peel himself. Peel himself would
be the most direct, but he is so cold, dry, and unsatisfactory, I know not how
he would take it, and he would very likely suspect me of some design, some
arrière pensée, some purpose of founding on this service a title to his
intimacy, or his patronage and assistance—in short, some selfish, personal
object. Whereas I hope and believe that I am not actuated by any puerile
vanity in this matter, or the ambition of acting a part, however humble and
subordinate, but that I have no object but to render my personal position
instrumental to a great and good purpose.

April 7th, 1839
I sent for Clarendon, and consulted him what I should do. He advised
me to speak to Peel at once, but first to ascertain whether John Russell
certainly remained in the same mind, because Ben Stanley reports to the
Cabinet that they will have so certain a majority that their drooping spirits
have been rather raised, and it will IMPORTANT COMMUNICATION TO GRAHAM. never
do for me to run the risk of deceiving Peel in any way. I shall do nothing for
the present, but turn it in my mind. There is a moral or religious precept of
oriental origin which is applicable to politics as well as to morals and
religion, and which should, I think, be ever present to the mind: ‘When you
are in doubt whether an action is good or bad, abstain from it.’ I believe this
is the safest and wisest maxim with reference to sayings and doings: if you

have serious doubts whether it is advisable to do a particular thing, or to say
a particular thing, neither do, nor say; do nothing, say nothing. Of course, if
you must do or say something, and the only choice is what, it is another
thing. I believe, when the mind is disturbed and is oscillating with doubts of
this kind, it is that vanity is whispering at one ear and prudence at the other;
but then prudence almost always takes the deaf ear, and so vanity
persuades.

April 10th, 1839
I wrote to X. on Saturday last, and said that what I heard here of the
confidence of Government about their majority made me hesitate about
saying anything for fear Lord John should not be in the same mind. He
replied that he had no reason to believe he had changed his mind, but that it
might be better to say nothing for the present. I had therefore resolved to
say nothing, but on Monday John Russell announced the terms of his
motion,[10] and Peel gave notice that on Friday he would give out his
amendment; therefore, if anything was to be done (as they were thus
coming to close quarters), no time was to be lost; and accordingly, after
much reflexion, I resolved to speak to Graham, with whom old intimacy
enabled me to converse more freely than I could with Peel, whose coldness
and reserve, and the doubt how he would take my communication, would
certainly have embarrassed me. I called on Graham yesterday, and had a
conversation of two hours with him. He began by saying that he could hold
no communication with me upon any political subject without telling me
that he should feel bound to impart everything to Peel, and I replied that
such was my intention. I then told him, without mentioning names, or
giving any authority, the reason I had for speaking to him, and the
conviction in my own mind that there would be found (in the event of a
change of Government) a disposition on the part of John Russell and others
of the moderate Whigs to support Peel. I told him that I thought it of such
vital importance that such a disposition should be fostered, and not checked
or suppressed by any violence in the conduct or language of his party, such
as might render it impossible for them to give that support hereafter; that I
had resolved to make known to him, for his consideration and that of Peel,
this my conviction; at the same time, he must fully understand, I had no

authority for saying so, that I might be mistaken, and he must take it for just
what he judged it to be worth. I went more at length into the subject,
conveying to him much of the information which had been imparted to me.
[10] [This was the motion approving the Irish policy of the Government,
above referred to.]

He replied that he was fully aware of the great importance of this
communication, and did not doubt that I had very solid grounds for what I
said; but at the same time he thought the motion of which John Russell had
given notice was in itself a measure of such a violent character that it was
inconsistent with the moderation which I ascribed to him, and he feared
that, in the event of a change, he might be persuaded to put himself at the
head of the Whigs and Radicals, and acquiesce for party purposes in those
movement measures to which he was certainly not personally inclined; that
as for himself, and Stanley also, they had old feelings of regard, and
friendship for Lord John, which would always influence them; and that he
had recently had a sort of reconciliation with him (the circumstance of
which he detailed), after an alienation on account of his attack upon Lord
John in his speech at Glasgow; but that Peel had no such amicable feelings
towards him, and thought he had got him at a great disadvantage on the
present occasion; that their amendment would be moderate in terms; but
they intended to be very strong in debate, and it was a good deal to ask of
them to emasculate their speeches for the prospective NEGOTIATION WITH GRAHAM
AND PEEL. but uncertain advantage of Lord John’s future support. ‘You say,’ he
continued, ‘that you are convinced, on what you deem good and certain
ground, that John Russell is disposed to resist the movement, and, in order
to do so, to support Peel, if he comes in; and you ask us to place such
confidence in this impression of yours, as to shape our conduct in
conformity with it. You ask us to adopt a tone so moderate as to give no
offence to John Russell, a lower tone than would be naturally expected from
us by our friends, who will, and can, know nothing of our reasons for
foregoing the advantage which seems to be in our power, and for treating
our opponents with such extraordinary and unaccountable lenity and
forbearance. This is asking a great deal.’ I owned that it was; but I urged
that the paramount importance of winning over the Whig leader, and a part
of the Whig party, to a decided opposition to the movement, and the
prospect it held out of separating the Whigs from the Radicals, fully

justified the sacrifice of any such advantage as that to which he alluded. He
said that, ‘supposing such were the views and feelings of John Russell
himself, he doubted whether the great Whig families would follow him. He
thought the Dukes of Sutherland, Devonshire, Bedford, and others, would
throw their influence into the opposite scale, and that the majority of the
Whigs would follow Morpeth, who, he believed, was prepared to go any
lengths.’ I replied, that this might be so; that I could only speak of what I
knew; that it had occurred to me to enquire whether he was likely to be
followed by many others, and that to the question I had thus put, the answer
had been ‘yes;’ but that I could not pretend to say I knew of any certain
instances of support to be expected, though my own belief was, that they
would not be wanting. After a long conversation, in which we discussed the
state and aspect of affairs in all their bearings, he ended by saying, that what
I had said to him had made a great impression upon him, and that he should
consider what it would be most advisable to do. He thanked me for the
confidence I had reposed in him, and appreciated my motives; he should
communicate with Peel about it, but whether he should mention what I had
said to him as the impression of his own mind only, or whether he should
tell him upon what authority it rested (upon mine), he should hereafter
determine. I told him I had rather avoid, but had no objection, if necessary,
to have my name brought forward, and, above all things, he must
understand and convey to Peel that I had no authority for what I had said,
that nobody must be in the slightest degree committed, that my impressions
might be mistaken and erroneous, and the event might not correspond with
them; but that, such as they were, I had frankly communicated them to him
in hopes that the communication might have a salutary effect.

April 13th, 1839
On Thursday morning I saw Graham again. He had spoken to Peel, and
told him exactly what I intended him to say, neither more nor less, giving it
as given to him by a friend of his own. Peel was not disposed to attach much
weight to the communication, and finding how lightly he regarded it, he
thought it necessary to inform him that it came from me. The mention of
my name (he said) did make a considerable impression on Peel, though
much less than the matter had made on Stanley and himself; the former

eagerly grasping at the prospect it held out, and believing implicitly in Lord
John’s disposition. Still Peel was shaken, but at the same time he was
excessively annoyed and put out by it. This (which appeared extraordinary
enough) Graham accounted for in this way: that Peel had arranged the
whole course of his conduct and the tenour of his speech in his own mind;
he thought he had got Lord John at a great disadvantage, and that the debate
would afford him the opportunity of a signal triumph; and the notion of
being obliged to forego this advantage and triumph, and the perplexity into
which he was thrown between doubt whether it really was worth while, and
fear of sacrificing a great and permanent, to an accidental and ephemeral
interest, threw him into an uncertainty and embarrassment which disturbed
his equanimity. It is at all events fortunate that I did not go to him myself,
for I should have been met with a cold austerity of manner which would
have disconcerted me, and COLD RECEPTION BY PEEL. I should have most certainly
quitted him mortified and disappointed, and without having effected any
good.
Peel said to Graham that he should express no opinion, make no
promise, and would not say whether or how his conduct would be affected
by what he had heard. I replied on this, that I did not desire or expect that he
should, and that my object was attained when he was made aware of what I
knew. I repeated that I had no authority, and he must attach as much or as
little importance to my opinion as he thought it was worth. Graham said
that, notwithstanding his annoyance, he was in fact fully sensible of the
importance of the circumstances, and that he would look with the greatest
solicitude for what fell from John Russell himself, considering that his
speech would afford the test of the correctness of my impressions, and that
if the tenour of that speech confirmed them, their speeches would be of a
corresponding character; that he might defend the policy of the
Government, and the administration of Ireland, as strenuously as he
pleased; but if he attacked the House of Lords, or truckled to the Radicals,
they must give a vent to the indignant feelings that such conduct would
inevitably excite, and it would be impossible for them to satisfy their
followers by a mere milk-and-water debate, and by abstaining from the use
of their weapons when the other side were unscrupulous in the use of theirs.
I said I did not desire that they should go into action with their swords in
their scabbards, while their enemies were to have theirs drawn; that I

admitted that this opening speech might be considered a fair test, and that
all I desired was, that if they could be moderate they would, and always
keep in sight the motives for moderation. This, he assured me, I might
depend upon. Peel thinks the motion itself so violent, that it announces
violent dispositions; and he says it is moving the Appropriation Clause over
again.[11] The only individual to whom all this has been communicated,
besides Peel and Stanley, is Arbuthnot, for the purpose of being conveyed to
the Duke of Wellington, but without any mention of my name.
[11] [The terms of Lord John’s resolution were these: ‘That it is the opinion
of this House that it is expedient to persevere in those principles which have
guided the Executive Government of Ireland of late years, and which have
tended to the effectual administration of the law and the general improvement of
that part of the Kingdom.’ It is difficult to perceive any violence in this
language.]

Yesterday I had a long letter from X., to whom I wrote an account of
my interview with Graham, approving of what I had done, and I wrote
Graham a note saying as much (but not mentioning X.’s name, as I have
never done). This he considered of such importance that he showed it to
Peel, and he told me that Peel was greatly more sensible of the value of the
information, and more disposed to shape his conduct accordingly. He said
to Stanley, ‘Why, I must go down to the House of Commons with two
speeches.’

April 21st, 1839
At Newmarket all last week, and having heard from nobody, could
judge of the debate only from reading the report. Lord John’s speech was
admirable, and so skilful, that it satisfied his friends, his foes, and did not
dissatisfy the Radicals. Peel was flat and laboured, and did not satisfy his
own people, all of which may be attributed to the necessity he was under of
making speech number two. The rest of the debate was very moderate, but
the Government had an excellent case, nothing being proved against them;
and the facts on which the Opposition relied being all explained or rebutted
satisfactorily. The division was better, too, than they expected, and some
accidents told in their favour; for example, a stupid Tory (Goddard), who
was besieged with letters and notes to be present at the division, turned

sulky and restive in consequence, and voted with the Government, much to
the delight of the Ministerial, and the rage of the Opposition whippers-in,
though to the amusement of both. But the moderation, which it was my
object to enforce, was manifested on both sides, and nothing fell from John
Russell offensive in a constitutional or even in a party sense, and the
Opposition leader abstained from attacking him, with a forbearance which,
if calculated, was very consistently maintained. Satisfactorily, however, as
the whole thing appears to have terminated for the Government, they
MODERATION OF THE DEBATE. do not consider it to have given them any permanent
strength, or the prospect of a longer tenure of office; for the Radicals, while
one and all supported them on this Irish vote, were not sparing of menace
and invective, and plainly indicated that, unless concessions were speedily
made for them, the Government should lose their support; and
consequently, there are many who are hoping and expecting, and many
more who are desiring, that concessions should be made, and by these
means that the Government concern should be again bolstered up. Some of
the Cabinet, more of the subordinates and hangers-on, and many of what
are called the old Whigs, are earnestly pressing this, and they are very angry
and very sorrowful because John Russell is inflexible on this point. He has
to sustain the assaults, not only of the violent of his party, and of Ellice and
the out-of-door advisers, monitors and critics, but of his own family, even
of his father, who, after announcing that he had given up politics and quitted
the stage, has been dragged forward and induced to try his parental rhetoric
upon the conservative immobility of his son. To the letter which the Duke
wrote him, Lord John merely replied that ‘he would shortly see his opinions
in print;’ and to Ellice’s warm remonstrances and entreaties he only dryly
said, ‘I have made up my mind.’ His nephew, Lord Russell,[12] who, from
some extraordinary crotchet, has thought fit to embrace republican
opinions, and is an ultra-movement man, but restrained in the manifestation
of his opinions from personal deference to his father and his uncle, with
whom he lives on excellent terms—said the other day to Lord Tavistock,
‘Lord John has undertaken a great task; he is endeavouring to arrest the
progress of the movement, and if he succeeds he will be a very great man.
He may succeed, and if he does it will be a great achievement.’ This Lord
Tavistock told Lord John, who replied that ‘he was convinced of the danger
which threatened the country from the movement, and of the necessity of
opposing its progress; that he considered this duty paramount to all other

considerations. He did not desire the dissolution of the Government to
which he belonged; on the contrary, he wished to remain in office; but
nevertheless he considered the promotion of party objects and the retention
of office subordinate to the higher and more imperative duty of opposing
principles fraught with danger to the State, and to that end he would devote
his best energies.’ (It is impossible to give the exact words, and these are
not the words, but it is the exact sense of what he said.)
[12] [William Russell, afterwards eighth Duke of Bedford, born 30th June
1809, died May 1872.]

April 22nd, 1839
The moderate Radicals are now very anxious to come to some
amicable understanding with the Government, and, if possible, to prop up
the concern. They are very angry with their more violent compeers (Grote,
Leader, &c.), and Fonblanque told me last night that they would take the
slightest concessions, the least thing that would satisfy their constituencies,
but that something they must have, and that something he appeared to think
they should get. I asked him what was the minimum of concession that
would do, and he said the rate-paying clauses, which would be merely
working out the original principle, the demolition of the boroughs under
300 electors, and Ballot an open question. I told him that I was persuaded
these things were impossible; that Lord John Russell never would consent
to begin again the work of disfranchisement, nor to make Ballot an open
question; that he is alarmed, and determined to stop. Clarendon had told me
much the same thing in the morning on the authority of his brother Charles,
[13] who is a very leading man, and much looked to among them, probably
(besides that he really is very clever) on account of that aristocratic origin
and connexion which he himself affects to despise, and to consider
prejudicial to him. Of course this anxiety on the part of the moderate
Radicals to come to terms will increase the eagerness of the violent Whigs
to strike a bargain; but Lord John will continue, I believe, to forbid the
banns. These things would only be wedges, no sooner conceded than fresh
demands THE RADICALS AND THE WHIGS. would be raised upon them; besides, they
never could, without abandoning every principle of independence and
losing all sense of honour, yield to contumely, menace and the most

insulting language, what they have so long and pertinaciously refused to
milder appeals and all the means of persuasion and remonstrance. The great
body of the Conservatives certainly, and I believe the whole country, will
make no distinction between different sections and shades of Radicals, but
consider every concession made to one as made to all, and the consequence
would be fresh taunts against the Government for being made of such
squeezable materials, without its prolonging their Ministerial existence for a
very long period. It would, however, prevent the split between the great
masses of Whigs and Radicals, and secure a formidable Opposition,
together with union at the election whenever it took place. Fonblanque told
me that if the Government was broken up by the desertion of the Radicals,
the latter would lose all their seats at the next election, for they are scarcely
anywhere strong enough to come in without the assistance of the Whigs.
[13] [Right Hon. Charles Pelham Villiers, born 19th January 1802, M.P. for
Wolverhampton for very many years.]

April 24th, 1839
Graham called yesterday to ask how my friends were satisfied with
their speeches, and to say that they had been entirely so with Lord John’s,
and, in consequence, able to express themselves with the reserve and
moderation which they had displayed. I told him it had all done very well,
plenty of moderation on both sides, and I hoped good had been done. He
said that Peel was still suspicious about Lord John, whom he did not know
personally as he and Stanley did, and therefore could not bring himself to
put the same confidence in the sincerity and integrity of his intentions.
Confound the fellow, what a cold feeler and cautious stepper he is! Strange
that the two leaders should make themselves so personally obnoxious as
they do by their manners and behaviour. Nevertheless John Russell, though
frigid and forbidding to strangers, is a more amiable man with his friends;
but the other has no friends. I have more than once remonstrated on the
impolicy of Lord John’s carelessness in his treatment of people, and I had
an instance of the mischief it does the other day. Sheil told me at Brooks’s
that one of his Irish members (Macnamara) was close to Lord John in the
House, and looked at him in vain for a sign of recognition. Lord John
stared, but made no sign; the affronted Milesian frothed up instantly and

said, ‘Confound him, I’ll vote against him.’ They pacified him so far as his
vote was concerned; but Sheil naturally enough observed that it was a very
unwise thing to neglect people’s little vanities and self-love so wantonly
and carelessly.

April 30th, 1839
Le Marchant told me yesterday that there is a great change come over
the spirit of the Reformers, and undoubted evidence of a reaction. Joe
Parkes, who recently went on a tour through the country, and who, before
he went, in an interview with Ben Stanley, Gore, Anson, and Le Marchant,
was full of menace and big words about the necessity of concession and the
strength of the movement, returned quite crestfallen, and has since
confessed that he found matters no longer in the same state, and a general
lukewarmness, in many cases an aversion to the movement. Le Marchant
has since been in communication with the editors of the ‘Sun’ and of the
‘Daily Advertiser,’ both of whom are engaging themselves in the service of
Government, and they have owned the same thing, that in the districts in
which the Chartists have appeared, their excesses have produced a regular
reaction and aversion to reform, and elsewhere that reasonable people,
without giving up their principles, are satisfied that the moment is not come
for enforcing them, and are for leaving things alone. This information,
which appears worthy of credit, is very important as regards the condition
of the country, and if it is acted upon by the Radicals in the House of
Commons, may still prolong the existence of the Government. Nobody can
well make out what Peel is at with his Jamaica amendment, and though he
says it is no party question, they are whipping up in all directions to fight
another battle.

May 2nd, 1839
The Duke of Newcastle has been dismissed from the Lieutenancy of
Nottinghamshire, as he ought to DISMISSAL OF THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE. have been
long ago. I met the Duke of Wellington at the Ancient Concert, and asked
him the reason, which he told me in these words: ‘Oh, there never was such

a fool as he is; the Government have done quite right, quite right, they
could not do otherwise.’ There was a correspondence between him and the
Chancellor about the appointment of some magistrates: he recommended
two gentlemen of Derbyshire as magistrates of Nottinghamshire, and the
Chancellor told him he meant to appoint likewise two others, one of whom
was a Mr. Paget. The Duke replied that he objected to Mr. Paget—first,
because he was a man of violent political opinions; and, secondly, because
he was a Dissenter. The Chancellor told him that Mr. Paget was not a man
of violent political opinions, and as to his being a Dissenter, he considered
that no objection, and that he should therefore appoint him, together with
the gentlemen recommended by the Duke. The Duke wrote a most violent
answer, in which he said that his lordship had the power of making this
appointment if he chose to do so, and if he did, he would have the
satisfaction of knowing that he had done very wrong, and he informed him
that for the future he should hold no confidential communication with him.
The Chancellor (the Duke of Wellington said) behaved in the most
gentlemanlike manner possible; nobody could behave better. He sent to the
Duke of Newcastle to say that he must be aware, on reflexion, that he ought
not to have written such a letter, and he would therefore return it to him,
that he might, if he pleased, put it in the fire, and let it be considered as not
having been written at all. The Duke replied that he had no objection to
withdraw the letter, provided the Chancellor would cancel the appointment.
Upon this, Lord John Russell wrote him word that ‘Her Majesty had no
further occasion for his services as Lord Lieutenant and Custos Rotulorum
of the county of Notts.’ Yesterday morning the Duke of Newcastle went to
Apsley House, and said to the Duke of Wellington, ‘You have heard what
has happened to me?’ ‘Not I,’ said the Duke, ‘I have heard nothing;’ and
then the Duke of Newcastle gave him Lord John’s letter to read. ‘Well,’ said
he, ‘but there is a correspondence alluded to in this letter: where is it?’ and
then the Duke of Newcastle put into his hands the correspondence with the
Chancellor. As soon as the Duke of Wellington had read it, he said, ‘They
could not do otherwise; no Government could be carried on if such a letter
as this was submitted to.’ ‘What shall I do?’ said the Duke of Newcastle.
‘Do?’ said the Duke: ‘Do nothing.’

May 5th, 1939
Lord John Russell’s letter to the electors of Stroud[14] came out late on
Friday evening, and three editions were sold of it yesterday, and not a copy
to be had. It is very sound and temperate, will be a bitter pill to the
Radicals, and a source of vexation to his own people, but will be hailed
with exceeding satisfaction by all moderate and really conservative men of
whatever party. I saw Graham yesterday morning, who owned that it had
fully answered all the expectations held out by me as to his intentions and
opinions.
[14] [This letter appeared in the form of a pamphlet in which Lord John
Russell fearlessly stated his moderate Whig opinions to the great disgust of the
Radical party.]

The Jamaica Bill is about to produce a fresh crisis much more difficult
to get over than the last, and it puzzles me to make out why Peel has chosen
this ground on which to fight a great and possibly a decisive battle.[15] The
Government, it JAMAICA BILL. is true, have placed themselves by their measure
in a false position, because on their own reasoning their Bill does not go far
enough, and ought to have extended to the dissolution instead of merely to
the suspension of the Assembly, and this was what the Colonial Office
authorities recommended. In a paper drawn up by Henry Taylor for the use
of the Cabinet, he set forth the incompatibility of the present assembly with
the new order of things, and exposed the absurdity of a system falsely
called representative; but they did not venture to take so decided a step, and
preferred a half measure, which dissatisfies everybody, and which would
only defer the difficulty and embarrassment of a final settlement. Still,
having adopted this course, and determined to deal with the Colony upon
their own responsibility, I cannot understand why Peel did not let them
alone. There was no popularity to be gained by taking this course; the
country does not care a straw for the constitution of Jamaica, the anti-
slavery feeling is all against the Assembly, and nobody will believe that the
Tories are animated by any high constitutional scruples, or that they care
about the question except as one on which they can fight a battle. Peel
(Graham said) ‘offered his plan in the sincere hope and expectation that
Government would accept it.’ Perhaps it may be of the two preferable
(though there is a serious objection to it, in the lapse of time that would
occur before anything could be done), but the Government cannot come

down to Parliament with proposals for administering colonial affairs in such
a manner as they deem necessary and expedient, and then at the bidding or
suggestion of Sir Robert Peel, adopt another plan of which, while he would
be the author, they must be the responsible executors. This would not be
governing, but handing over the Government to their opponents. If Peel
really was of opinion that this Bill was so unwise and inexpedient, that no
considerations of a general nature would justify him in consenting to it, or
in not opposing it, he was right to take the course he has done; but not
otherwise; for, as the Bill can only be carried, if at all, by a small majority,
it will go out to Jamaica with diminished moral effect, and it was above all
things desirable that an Act so penal should be invested with all the
authority derivable from unanimity, or at least the concurrence of an
overwhelming majority. Now this is the consideration of which the
importance is admitted by both sides, and it might have afforded Peel a
good reason for giving way to the Government, when he found they would
not give way to him. As it is, the Bill will go up to the Lords with the usual
majority, and the Lords will have to determine upon a course full of
important consequences. If they throw it out, it seems to me that Ministers
must resign, and no question could be devised on which they could resign
so advantageously for their own interests as a party, none of which would
be less popular for their opponents, and which would afford so good an
occasion and such great facilities for keeping together the Whigs and
Radicals in a firm and consentient opposition. The great object of Peel’s
policy appears to have been to avoid returning to office until he could do so
in such strength as to be able to carry on the Government with security, and
it was my belief that he never would return until he had some sort of
guarantee that this would be in his power. The great desideratum, therefore,
of all moderate men, was the dissolution of the connexion between the
Whigs and Radicals, and the ultimate establishment of a Government upon
the anti-movement principle, and it was with reference to this paramount
object that I was so desirous of getting Peel’s course shaped so as to
harmonise with John Russell’s sentiments and conduct. But if the
Government resign upon this Jamaica question, all this fine plan will be
defeated. Great are the effects of party rancour, and if the battle is fought on
merely party grounds, and the Lords are to be the instruments of achieving
the victory, the Whigs and Radicals will forget their THE CABINET RESIGNS.
present bickerings and mutual topics of grievance and discontent, and bury

their animosities in a common determination to resist and defeat their
political antagonists. With the majority against him unbroken in the
Commons, but without an option as to taking or refusing office if tendered
to him (because he would have himself compelled the Government to
resign), Peel must dissolve, and he would encounter the election with the
whole antagonist force united against him, aided by the anti-slavery feeling
together with all the jealousy that could be excited against the
predominance of the House of Lords. Suppose the general election were to
give him a very large majority, even then the great opportunity of separating
the Whigs and Radicals would have been lost, and there is every reason to
believe that when there is to be a fair fight for power, the Whigs will not be
nice as to the banners that are displayed in their front, and that the majority
of them will agree to many things of which they do not approve, rather than
mar combinations instrumental to the overthrow of the Tory party, and their
own restoration to power.
[15] [On the 6th May, Lord John Russell proposed in the House of
Commons to suspend the Constitution of Jamaica for five years, because the
Assembly of that Island had refused to adopt the Prisons Act passed by the
Imperial Legislature. A division was taken on the question, that ‘the Speaker do
now leave the Chair,’ and the Government had a majority of five in a House of
583. Upon this grave consequences ensued. Mr. Henry Taylor argued, in the
paper he submitted to the Cabinet on this question, that in the existing state of
society in the West Indies, the forms of Constitutional Government could only
lead to the oppression of the blacks by the whites, or of the whites by the blacks,
and that the inveterate feelings by which the Colonists were divided would lead
to measures of oppression, and in the end would break out into acts of violence.
He therefore proposed the abolition of the Assemblies and the substitution of
Legislatures based on the model of those existing in the Crown Colonies. This
scheme was approved by Lord Melbourne and by Lord Howick, but it was feebly
supported by Lord Glenelg and rejected by the Cabinet. Lord John Russell then
brought forward the half-measure on which the division was taken. In the
opinion of Mr. Henry Taylor this decision led to twenty-six years of
misgovernment in the Colonies, and at length to the outbreak of the negroes in
Jamaica in October 1865, which was only suppressed by the energy of Governor
Eyre. Government by the Crown, which the Colonial Department had vainly
advocated in 1839, was established in 1866, with excellent results to the Colony.]

May 10th, 1839
I left town on Monday, having in the morning seen Le Marchant, who
knows better than anybody the numbers and details of divisions; and he told

me that they should have a majority of twenty: little, therefore, was I
prepared to hear on Tuesday morning that they had been left with only a
majority of five. It was not till they were in the House of Commons that
they were aware of the defections, and of the probability of a close division,
if not of a defeat. About ten of the Radicals voted against them, and ten or a
dozen stayed away; six of the Tories voted with Government, but the
balance was quite enough to reduce the old majority to an equality. On
Tuesday the Cabinet met, and resolved to resign. The Queen had not been
prepared for this catastrophe and was completely upset by it. Her agitation
and grief were very great. In her interview with Lord John Russell she was
all the time dissolved in tears; and she dined in her own room, and never
appeared on the Tuesday evening. Melbourne advised her to send for the
Duke, and on Wednesday morning she sent for him. By this time she had
regained her calmness and self-possession. She told him that she was very
sorry for what had occurred, and for having to part with her Ministers,
particularly Lord Melbourne, for whom she felt the warmest regard, and
who had acted an almost parental part towards her. The Duke was
excessively pleased with her behaviour and with her frankness. He told her
that his age and his deafness incapacitated him from serving her as
efficiently as he could desire, and that the leader of the House of Commons
ought to be her Prime Minister, and he advised her to send for Peel. She
said, ‘Will you desire him to come to me?’ He told her that he would do
anything; but, he thought, under the circumstances, it would be better that
she should write to him herself. She said she would, but begged him to go
and announce to Peel that he might expect her letter. This the Duke did, and
when Peel received it, he went to the Palace (in full dress according to
etiquette), and received her commands to form a Government. She received
him (though she dislikes him) extremely well, and he was perfectly
satisfied.
While the Tories were rejoicing in their victory, the Whigs, greatly
exasperated, were already beginning to meditate the organisation of a strong
Opposition, and providing the means of carrying on an effectual war against
the new Government. They do not choose to look upon their expulsion as
attributable to the defection of their allies, but as the work of the Tories
upon a mere party question, and that a very unjustifiable one, and treated in
a very unjustifiable manner. I met Ellice and Labouchere in the street, and

found them full of menace and sinister prediction, and to my assertion that
all would go well and easily, they shook their heads, and insisted that the
conduct of their opponents entitled them to no forbearance, and that finding
none, their difficulties and embarrassments would be very great; and I
found in other quarters that there is a disposition to rally and marshal the
party, and commence offensive warfare; but others of the Whigs entertained
no such views, and looked THE BEDCHAMBER DIFFICULTY. upon the game as quite
lost for the present; and in point of fact, nothing is settled, fixed, combined,
or arranged as yet; and there has not been time to ascertain the disposition
or intentions of the leaders.
While, however, there was yesterday this uncertainty and agitation in
the Whig camp, and the Tories were waiting in perfect security for the
tranquil arrangement of the new Government, a storm suddenly arose,
which threatens to scatter to the winds the new combinations, and the
ultimate effects of which it is impossible for anybody to foresee. The Queen
insisted upon keeping the ladies of her household, and Peel objected, but
without shaking her determination. He begged her to see the Duke of
Wellington, and she agreed to see the Duke and him together. He had,
however, before this gone to the Palace with Lord Ashley,[16] whom he had
taken with him, fancying that because he had been in the habit of seeing a
great deal of the Queen, he might have some influence with her—a notion
altogether preposterous, and exhibiting the deficiency of Peel in worldly
dexterity and tact, and in knowledge of character. Ashley made no
impression on the Queen. When the Duke and Peel saw her, and
endeavoured to persuade her to yield this point, they found her firm and
immoveable, and not only resolved not to give way, but prepared with
answers to all they said, and arguments in support of her determination.
They told her that she must consider her Ladies in the same light as Lords:
she said, ‘No, I have Lords besides, and these I give up to you.’ And when
they still pressed her, she said, ‘Now suppose the case had been reversed,
that you had been in office when I had come to the Throne, and that Lord
Melbourne would not have required this sacrifice of me.’ Finding that she
would not give way, Peel informed her that under these circumstances he
must consult his friends; and a meeting took place at his house yesterday
afternoon.

[16] [Lord Ashley, then a member of the House of Commons, afterwards
seventh Earl of Shaftesbury: though a follower of Sir Robert Peel, he was
married to Lady Emily Cowper, Lord Melbourne’s niece, and this circumstance
probably induced Peel to invoke his assistance.]

In the meantime the old Ministers were apprised of the difficulty that
had occurred, and Lord John Russell, who knew that there was a meeting at
Peel’s to consider what was to be done, entreated Melbourne, if the thing
was broken off upon this difficulty, not to give any advice, but to call the
Cabinet and have a general consultation. At nine in the evening he was
summoned to a Cabinet at Melbourne’s house, and from this he inferred that
negotiations with Peel had closed. The ministers were collected from all
quarters: (Hobhouse from dinner at Wilton’s, Morpeth from the opera), and
Melbourne laid before them a letter from the Queen,[17] written in a bitter
spirit, and in a strain such as Elizabeth might have used. She said, ‘Do not
fear that I was not calm and composed. They wanted to deprive me of my
Ladies, and I suppose they would deprive me next of my dressers and my
housemaids; they wished to treat me like a girl, but I will show them that I
am Queen of England!’ They consulted, and a suggestion was thrown out
that Lady Normanby (and some other I think) should resign. This was
overruled, as was a proposition of John Russell’s, that the Queen should
require from Peel a precise statement of the extent of his demands. The end
was, that a letter was composed for her, in which she simply declined to
place the Ladies of her household at Peel’s discretion. This was sent
yesterday morning; when Peel wrote an answer resigning his commission
into Her Majesty’s hands; but recapitulating everything that had passed.
When the difficulty first arose, Peel asked her to see the Duke; she
acquiesced; he fetched him, and the Duke was with her alone. The Duke it
was who argued the principle with her—Peel had touched upon its
application.
[17] Melbourne, it appears, from his own statement in the House of Lords,
was sent for at six o’clock on Thursday.

It was speedily known all over the town that the whole thing was at an
end, and nothing could surpass the excitement and amazement that
prevailed. The indignant Tories exclaimed against intrigue and preconcerted
plans, and asserted that she refused to part with any of her Ladies, and THE
WHIGS STAND BY THE QUEEN. that it was only a pretext to break off the Tory
Government; while the Whigs cried out against harshness and dictatorial

demands, and complained that it was intended to make a thorough
clearance, to strip her of all her friends, and destroy her social comfort. The
Radicals, who had for the most part been terribly alarmed at the results of
their own defection, instantly made overtures to the Whigs; and I heard at
Brooks’s that Ward had come over from the Reform Club, and proposed a
reconciliation without any concession, except that Ballot should be made an
open question. There appeared no disposition to concede anything to the
Radicals, who, they were convinced, would join them without any
conditions.
In the meantime Lord Melbourne and Lord John Russell went to the
Queen, who told them her whole story. I met the latter coming from her; he
said, ‘I have just been for an hour with the Queen; she told me her story,
and ended by saying, ‘I have stood by you, you must now stand by me.’
They thought her case a good one, and resolved to stand by her. Such was
the state of things and such the case as reported to me by several members
of the Whig party yesterday morning, and my impression was that Peel had
been unreasonable in his demands and impolitic in breaking off the
negotiation on such grounds. Nevertheless I had some misgivings, because I
thought the Duke of Wellington unlikely to concur in any proceeding harsh
towards the Queen, or ill-considered in a political sense; but the assertion
was at the same time so positive, that Peel had required the dismissal of all
the ladies, and the Tories defended instead of denying this, that I did not
doubt the fact to have been so; and moreover I was told that Peel’s
behaviour had created a strong sentiment of dislike towards him in the
Queen, and from her representations and the language of her letter it was
clear the impression on her mind was that no consideration was intended to
be shown to her feelings and wishes, but, on the contrary, that they meant to
abuse their power to the utmost. At the ball last night I put the question
directly to Lord Normanby and Ben Stanley, and they both declared that the
Queen’s understanding was that the demand for power to dismiss the Ladies
was unqualified by any intimation of an intention not to exercise that power
to the utmost extent; that she believed they were all to be taken from her,
and under this impression she had sent her ultimatum by which the whole
thing was terminated. But I had afterwards a conversation with Lord
Wharncliffe, who gave me an account of all that had passed, placed the
matter in a very different light, and proved beyond a doubt that there was no

lack of deference and consideration on the part of Peel, but, on the contrary,
the clearest indication of an intention and desire to consult her wishes and
feelings in every respect, and that, instead of a sweeping demand for the
dismissal of all her Ladies, he had approached that subject with delicacy
and caution, and merely suggested the expediency of some partial changes,
for reasons (especially when taken with other things) by no means
insufficient. So little disposition was there on the part of Peel to regard her
with distrust or to fetter her social habits, that when she said, ‘You must not
expect me to give up the society of Lord Melbourne,’ he replied that
‘Nothing could be further from his thoughts than to interfere with Her
Majesty’s society in any way, or to object to her receiving Lord Melbourne
as she pleased, and that he should always feel perfectly secure in the honour
of Lord Melbourne, that he would not avail himself improperly of his
intercourse with her.’ When she said that she should like to have Lord
Liverpool about her, he immediately acquiesced, and proposed that he
should be Lord Steward, and he suggested certain other persons, whom he
said he proposed because he believed they were personally agreeable to her;
but when he began to talk of ‘some modification of the Ladies of her
household,’ she stopped him at once, and declared she would not part with
any of them. Thenceforward this became the whole matter in dispute; but
there had been some circumstances even in the first interview which Peel
and the Duke regarded as ominous and indicative of her having been
primed as to the THE TRUE STATE OF THE CASE. part she should play. The principal
of these was an intimation of her desire that there should be no dissolution
of Parliament. This surprised Peel very much, but he only replied that it
was impossible for him to come to any determination on that point, as he
might be beaten on one of the first divisions, in which case it would be
inevitable. It was indeed the fact of his taking the Government with a
minority in the House of Commons which was his principal argument for
desiring the power of dismissing the Ladies, or rather of changing the
household, that he might not, he said, give to the world the spectacle of a
Court entirely hostile to him, consisting of ladies whose husbands were his
strongest political opponents, thereby creating an impression that the
confidence of the Crown was bestowed on his enemies rather than on
himself. In the Duke’s first interview with the Queen, he had entreated her
to place her whole confidence in Peel, and had then said that, though some
changes might be necessary in her household, she would find him in all the

arrangements anxious to meet her wishes and consult her feelings.
Notwithstanding her assurance to Melbourne that she was calm, she was
greatly excited, though still preserving a becoming dignity in her outward
behaviour.
Having satisfied myself that there had been a complete
misunderstanding, which I think, as it was, might have been cleared up if
there had been less precipitation and more openness and further endeavours
to explain what was doubtful or ambiguous, I began to turn in my mind
whether something could not be done to avert the impending danger, and
renew the negotiation with Peel while it was still time. Labouchere had had
a conversation with Graham, who had enlightened him, much as
Wharncliffe had me; we came home together, and I found what Graham had
told him had made a deep impression on him, and that he was as sensible as
I am of the gravity and peril of the circumstances in which affairs are
placed. I accordingly urged Lord Tavistock to endeavour to persuade
Melbourne to see the Duke of Wellington and talk it over with him; he
would at all events learn the exact truth as to what had passed, which it
most essentially behoves him to know before he takes upon himself the
responsibility of advising the Queen and of meeting Parliament once more
with all the necessary explanations how and why he is still Minister, and
from the Duke likewise he would learn what really is the animus of Peel
and his party, and what the real extent of their intended demands upon the
Queen. He, and he alone, can enlighten her and pacify her mind; and if he is
satisfied that there has been a misapprehension, and that Peel has required
nothing but what she ought to concede, it would be his duty to advise her
once more to place herself in Peel’s hands. This is the only solution of the
difficulty now possible, and this course, if he has sufficient wisdom,
firmness, and virtue to adopt it, may still avert the enormous evils which are
threatened by the rupture of the pending arrangements.

CHAPTER VI.
The Whigs retain the Government — Motives of the Queen —
Decision of Ministers — Lord Brougham’s Excitement —
Ministerial Explanations — State of Affairs in Parliament —
Lord Brougham’s great Speech on the Crisis — Duke of
Wellington’s Wisdom and Moderation — Visit of the Grand
Duke Alexander — Macaulay returns to Parliament —
Disappointment of the Radicals — The Radicals appeased —
Visit to Holland House — Anecdotes of George Selwyn —
False Position of the Whigs — Downton Castle — Payne
Knight — Malvern — Troy House — Castles on the Wye —
Tintern Abbey — Bath — Salisbury Cathedral — Death of Lady
Flora Hastings — Violent Speech of the Duke — Conversation
with the Duke of Wellington — Lord Clarendon’s début in the
House of Lords — Lord Brougham attacks Lord Normanby —
His fantastic Conduct — Pauper School at Norwood.

May 12th, 1839
The Cabinet met yesterday, and resolved to take the Government
again; they hope to interest the people in the Queen’s quarrel, and having
made it up with the Radicals they think they can stand. It is a high trial to
our institutions when the wishes of a Princess of nineteen can overturn a
great Ministerial combination, and when the most momentous matters of
Government and legislation are influenced by her pleasure about her Ladies
of the Bedchamber. The Whigs resigned because they had no longer that
Parliamentary support for their measures which they deemed necessary, and
they consent to hold the Government without the removal of any of the
difficulties which compelled them to resign, for the purpose of enabling the
Queen to exercise her pleasure without any control or interference in the

choice of the Ladies of her household. This is making the private
gratification of the Queen paramount to the highest public considerations:
somewhat strange Whig doctrine and practice! With respect to the question
of unfettered choice, a good deal may be said on both sides; but although it
would be wrong and inexpedient for any Minister to exercise the right,
unless in a case of great necessity, I think every Minister must have the
power of advising the Queen to remove a Lady of her Court, in the same
way as he is admitted to have that of removing a man. Notwithstanding the
transaction of 1812, and Lord Moira’s protection of George IV. in the
retention of his household, it is now perfectly established in practice that the
Royal Household is at the discretion of the Minister, and it must be so
because he is responsible for the appointments; in like manner he is
responsible for every appointment which the Sovereign may make; and
should any of the Ladies conduct herself in such a manner as to lead the
public to expect or require her dismissal, and the Queen were to refuse to
dismiss her, the Minister must be responsible for her remaining about the
Royal person.
The pretension of the Queen was not merely personal, pro hâc vice,
and one of arrangement, but it went to the establishment of a principle
unlimited in its application, for she declared that she had felt bound to make
her stand where she did, in order once for all to resist the encroachments
which she anticipated, and which would lead, she supposed, at last to their
insisting on taking the Baroness Lehzen herself from her. In a constitutional
point of view, the case appears to me to be much stronger than in that of a
Queen Consort, for the Minister has nothing to do with a Queen Consort; he
is not responsible for her appointments, nor for the conduct of her officers,
and she is a feme sole possessed of independent rights which she may
exercise according to her own pleasure, provided only that she does not
transgress the law. It was a great stretch of authority when Lord Grey
insisted on the dismissal of Lord Howe, Queen Adelaide’s Chamberlain; but
he did so upon an extraordinary occasion, and when circumstances rendered
it, as he thought, absolutely necessary that he should make a public
demonstration of his influence in a Court notoriously disaffected to the
Reform Bill.
The origin of the present mischief may be found in the UNCONSTITUTIONAL
COURSE OF THE WHIGS. objectionable composition of the Royal Household at the

Accession. The Queen knew nobody, and was ready to take any Ladies that
Melbourne recommended to her. He ought to have taken care that the
female part of her household should not have a political complexion,
instead of making it exclusively Whig as, unfortunately for her, he did; nor
is it little matter of wonder that Melbourne should have consented to
support her in such a case, and that he and his colleagues should have
consented to act the strange, anomalous, unconstitutional part they have
done. While they really believed that she had been ill-used, it was natural
they should be disposed to vindicate and protect her; but after the reception
of Peel’s letter they must have doubted whether there had not been some
misapprehension on both sides, and they ought in prudence, and in justice
to her, even against her own feelings, to have sifted the matter to the
bottom, and have cleared up every existing doubt before they decided on
their course. But to have met as a Cabinet, and to have advised her what
answer to send to the man who still held her commission for forming a
Government, upon points relating to its formation, is utterly anomalous and
unprecedented, and a course as dangerous as unconstitutional.[1] The danger
has been sufficiently exemplified in the present case; for, having necessarily
had no personal cognisance of the facts, they incurred the risk of giving
advice upon mistaken grounds, as in this instance has been the case. She
might be excused for her ignorance of the exact limits of constitutional
propriety, and for her too precipitate recurrence to the counsels to which she
had been accustomed; but they ought to have explained to her, that until Sir
Robert Peel had formally and finally resigned his commission into her
hands, they could tender no advice, and that her replies to him, and her
resolutions with regard to his proposals, must emanate solely and
spontaneously from herself. As it was, the Queen was in communication
with Sir Robert Peel on one side, and Lord Melbourne on the other, at the
same time; and through them with both their Cabinets; the unanimous
resolutions of the former being by her conveyed to, and her answer being
composed by, the latter. The Cabinet of Lord Melbourne discussed the
proposals of that of Sir Robert Peel, and they dictated to the Queen the
reply in which she refused to consent to the advice tendered to her by the
man who was at that moment her Minister, and it was this reply which
compelled him to resign the office with which she had entrusted him.
[1] Melbourne explains away this objection by alleging that the negotiation
with Peel was over at six on Thursday; that the Queen sent for him to tell him so;

that he was again become her Minister; and that he and his colleagues properly
advised the terms in which she should convey her final decision. This
explanation seems to have gone down, but I can’t imagine how: the decision to
persist in refusing Peel’s demands became their decision, when they advised the
letter in which it was conveyed. I know not why more was not made of this part
of the case.

May 13th, 1839
Lord Tavistock went on Saturday to Buckingham Palace; found
Melbourne was not there, and followed him to his house, where the Cabinet
was sitting. He wrote him a letter, in which he said that he had seen the
Duke, and that his impression was that there had been a misunderstanding
between Peel and the Queen; and suggested to Melbourne that he should
see the Duke, who was very willing, if he pleased, to talk the matter over
with him. This letter was taken in to the Cabinet, and they discussed its
contents.[2] Melbourne was not indisposed to see the Duke; but, after a
careful consideration of Peel’s letter, they came to the conclusion that there
was no difference between the Queen’s statement to them and Peel’s to her,
and, therefore, no misconception to correct. The Chancellor accordingly
gave his opinion, that there was no ground for an interview between
Melbourne and the Duke; so then ended the last hope of a readjustment.
[2] Lord Grey was at Melbourne’s house; Melbourne sent for him, and
consulted him, and he remained in another room while the Cabinet was in
deliberation. Lord Grey took it up very warmly, and was strongly for supporting
the Queen, saying they could not do otherwise.

The question (they say) was all along one of principle, and never of
the application of the principle; but the extraordinary part of it is that they
admit that the principle is not THE DEBATE ON THIS TRANSACTION. maintainable, yet
declare that they were bound as gentlemen, when the Queen had recourse to
them, to support her. This is strange doctrine in Whig mouths. They have, in
my opinion, abandoned their duty to the country and to the Queen, and they
ought to have been impressed with the paramount obligation of instructing
her in the nature and scope of her constitutional obligations and duties, and
the limits of her constitutional rights, and to have advised her what she
ought to do, instead of upholding her in doing that which was agreeable to
her taste and inclination.

In the meantime Brougham wrote a violent letter to Lord Tavistock,
imploring him, while it was still time, to arrest the perilous course on which
his friends had entered, and full of professions of regard for him and his.
Tavistock went to him in the evening, found him in a state of furious
excitement, abusing the Ministry greatly, and many of them by name in the
grossest terms, and pouring forth a torrent of invective against men and
things. After a time he became more cool, and half promised that he would
not speak at all; but when he learnt, what he was not aware of, that Lord
Spencer was come to town and would be in the House of Lords, he broke
out again, and said that if they had brought him up to support that miserable
rotten concern, he must speak. Lord Spencer was not, however, brought up
by them; he knew nothing of passing events till he read them in the ‘Times’
on Saturday, at Barnet, and his reflexion on them was, that if he should be
sent for, he should advise the Queen to send for Peel again and concede the
point. He is now, however, disposed, in case of need, to defend his friends
in the House of Lords; but if they can secure Brougham’s silence as the
price of his, the Ministers will be glad enough to pair them off.

May 19th, 1839
At Mickleham (for Epsom) from Tuesday to Friday, and, of course,
nothing done, written, heard, or thought of, save and except the Derby. The
explanations went off, on the whole, very well, without acrimony, and as
satisfactorily as the case allowed. Peel’s speech was excellent (though Lord
Grey did not approve of it, and regretted not having the power to answer it),
and without any appearance of art or dexterity he contrived to steer through
all the difficult points and to justify himself without saying a word offensive
to the Queen. Lord John Russell was very nervous, feeble and ineffective.
In the other House Melbourne made, as all allow, a capital speech;
Clarendon, a good and fair judge, told me that he never heard Melbourne
speak so well throughout; while the Duke was painful to hear, exhibiting
such undoubted marks of caducity: it did not, however, read ill. Melbourne
made one admission, for which Lord John Russell was very angry with him,
and that was of the ‘erroneous impression’ on the Queen’s mind, because
his argument was that there was ‘no mistake.’ Lord Grey and Lord Spencer
would either of them have spoken, but it was deemed better they should not,

or Brougham would have been unmuzzled, and as it was he adhered to his
engagement to Lord Tavistock and held his peace. He had said, ‘If you let
off Althorp or old Grey, I must speak.’

June 1st, 1839
Laid up with the gout and confined to my room for ten days, very ill
and utterly disinclined to write. Nothing new of consequence, but little
things keep oozing out, throwing light on the recent transaction, and all
tending to the same conclusion. In the meantime Parliament met, but
nothing has been done. Lord John Russell began by deferring the Education
question, which he will be obliged to abandon, for the Church has risen up
and put forth all its strength against it, and having been joined by the
Wesleyans, will, without difficulty, defeat it. The Bishop of London made a
most eloquent philippic against it at Exeter Hall the other day. Government
have brought in another Jamaica Bill, not very different from Peel’s
proposed measure, and which they will probably contrive to pass.
The Radicals have been again bestirring themselves, and trying to turn
the present occasion to account and extract some concessions from the
Government. Warburton has been in communication with Lord John
Russell, and they LORD BROUGHAM ATTACKS MINISTERS. expect some declarations
from him and Melbourne of their future intentions, and some indications of
a disposition to give way on some of the favourite Radical measures.
Melbourne’s intention was to be elicited by certain questions of which Lord
Winchilsea gave notice, and which he actually put last night, as to the
principles on which the Government was to be conducted. Melbourne
replied in a very guarded and somewhat didactic style, but, so far from
evincing any disposition to make Radical concessions, he intimated with
sufficient clearness that he was resolved to make none whatever, and that he
would not sacrifice his conscientious convictions for any political or party
purpose.
After this, up got Brougham, and that boiling torrent of rage, disdain,
and hatred, which had been dammed up upon a former occasion when he
was so unaccountably muzzled, broke forth with resistless and
overwhelming force. He spoke for three hours, and delivered such an

oration as no other man in existence is capable of: devilish in spirit and
design, but of superhuman eloquence and masterly in execution. He
assailed the Ministers with a storm of invective and ridicule; and, while he
enveloped his periods in a studied phraseology of pretended loyalty and
devotion, he attacked the Queen herself with unsparing severity. He went at
length and in minute detail into the whole history of the recent transaction,
drew it in its true colours, and exposed its origin, progress, and motives, and
thus he laid bare all the arts and falsehoods by which attempts had been
made to delude and agitate the country. If it were possible to treat this as a
party question, his speech would be a powerful party auxiliary, most
valuable to the Tories as a vindication of them, for it was the peculiar merit
of this speech that it abounded in truths and in great constitutional
principles of undoubted authority and unerring application. The Duke of
Wellington rose after Brougham: in a short speech, replete with moderation
and dignity, he abstained from entering upon the past, but fastened upon
Melbourne’s declaration, and gave him to understand that as long as he
adhered to such principles as he had then declared he would be governed
by, he might appeal to Parliament confidently for support.
These three speeches have all in their different ways produced a great
effect: Melbourne’s will not satisfy the Radicals, though they catch (as
dying men at straws) at a vague expression about ‘progressive reforms,’ and
try (or pretend) to think that this promises something, though they know not
what. Brougham’s speech was received by the Tory Lords with enthusiastic
applause, vociferous cheering throughout, and two or three rounds at the
conclusion. But the Duke’s assurance of support to Melbourne exasperated
his own people to the greatest degree, produced a sulky article in the
‘Times,’ and the usual complaints at White’s and the Carlton of the Duke’s
being in his dotage, and so forth. Even some of his real admirers thought he
‘had overdone it,’ and whilst at Brooks’s they did not quite know what to
make of it, at the Carlton they were in the same doubt how to interpret
Melbourne’s cautious ambiguities. Both, however, were clear enough:
Melbourne meant to say he would ‘go no further,’ and the Duke meant to
pat him on the back, and promise him that while he adhered to that
resolution he should have no vexatious opposition to fear; but his meaning
was made still more clear, for he told my brother this afternoon that ‘it was
of the greatest importance to nail Melbourne to his declaration, and that

they must do what they could to help the Queen out of the difficulty in
which she was placed.’ He looks to the Crown of England; he wants to
uphold it and not to punish her; and he does not care to achieve a Tory
triumph at the expense of the highest Tory principle; he thinks the
Monarchy is in danger, and he sees that the danger may be more surely
averted by still enduring the existence of the present Government, depriving
them of all power to do evil, and converting them into instruments of good,
than by accelerating their fall under circumstances calculated to engender
violent animosities, irreconcileable enmities, wide separation of parties, and
the adoption of extreme measures and dangerous principles by many who
have no natural bias that way. I entirely concur MACAULAY ELECTED FOR
EDINBURGH. with him, and if it were possible to restore matters to something
like the state they were in before the Bedchamber crisis, nothing would be
so desirable; nothing so desirable as that the Whigs and the Radicals should
be furnished with fresh occasion to fall out, and the dissolution of the
Government be the final consequence of their dissensions. Also it is
expedient that time should be given for the angry waters to become smooth
and calm once more, albeit the smoothness is only on their surface.
Yesterday the Grand Duke Alexander[3] went away after a stay of some
three weeks, which has been distinguished by a lavish profusion—perhaps a
munificence—perfectly unexampled; he is by no means remarkable in
appearance one way or the other, and does not appear to have made any
great impression except by the splendour and extent of his presents and
benefactions: he has scattered diamond boxes and rings in all directions,
subscribed largely to all the charities, to the Wellington and Nelson
memorials, and most liberally (and curiously) to the Jockey Club, to which
he has sent a sum of 300ℓ., with a promise of its annual repetition.
[3] [Afterwards the Emperor Alexander II. of Russia. He ascended the
throne in 1855 and perished by assassination in the streets of St. Petersburgh on
the 13th March, 1881.]

Macaulay is gone to Edinburgh to be elected in the room of
Abercromby, so he is again about to descend into the arena of politics. He
made a very eloquent and, to my surprise, a very Radical speech, declaring
himself for Ballot and short Parliaments. I was the more astonished at this,
because I knew he had held very moderate language, and I remembered his
telling me that he considered the Radical party to be reduced to ‘Grote and

his wife,’ after which I did not expect to see him declare himself the
advocate of Grote’s favourite measure and the darling object of the
Radicals.

June 7th, 1839
Macaulay’s was a very able speech and a good apology for the Whig
Government, and as he has always been for Ballot, he is not inconsistent.
On Sir H. Fleetwood’s motion the other night (for giving votes for counties
to ten-pound householders), John Russell spoke out, though in a reforming
tone, and threw the Radicals into a paroxysm of chagrin and
disappointment. The Tories had heard he was going to give way, and Peel,
who is naturally suspicious and distrustful, believed it; but when he found
he would not give way, nor held out any hopes for the future, Peel nailed
him to that point and spoke with great force and effect. This debate was
considered very damaging to Whigs and Radicals, and likely to lead to a
dissolution—first, of Parliament, and then of Government. But the Radicals
are now adopting a whining, fawning tone, have dropt that of bluster and
menace, and, having before rudely insisted on a mighty slice of the loaf, are
now content to put their tails between their legs and swallow such crumbs
as they can get. Peel has written and published a very stout letter, in reply to
a Shrewsbury declaration presented to him, in which he defends his recent
conduct, and declares he will never take office on any other terms.
Notwithstanding Lord John Russell’s speech on Fleetwood’s motion,
and Melbourne’s anti-movement declaration in the other House, they have
to their eternal disgrace succumbed to the Radicals, and been squeezed into
making Ballot an open question. For John Russell I am sorry. I thought he
would have been stouter. The Radicals are full of exultation, and the
Government underlings, who care not on what terms they can retain their
places, are very joyful. I rode with Howick yesterday for a long time and
talked it over with him. He pretended it was no concession after Vivian’s
being allowed to vote last year, and he owned that he considered the
question as virtually carried; he is himself moderate and means still to vote
against it, sees all the danger—not so much from Ballot itself as from its
inevitable train of consequences—and still consents to abandon the contest.

I asked him, if he was not conscious that it was only like buying off the
Picts and Scots, and that fresh demands would speedily follow with
redoubled confidence; and he owned he was. It may prolong for a brief
period the sickly existence of the Government, and if a dissolution comes
THE WHIGS SUCCUMB TO THE RADICALS. speedily, Whigs and Radicals may act in
concert at the elections; but if they attempt to go on with the present
Parliament fresh demands will rapidly ensue, and then there must be fresh
concessions or another breach. It is a base and disgusting truckling to allies
between whom and themselves there is nothing but mutual hatred and
contempt.

June 14th, 1839
At Holland House from Tuesday till Thursday—not particularly
agreeable. Melbourne came one day, but was not in spirits. Lord Holland
told me some stories of George Selwyn, whom he had known in his
younger days, and many of whose good sayings he remembers. He
describes him as a man of great gravity and deliberation in speaking, and,
after exciting extraordinary mirth by his wit and drollery, gently smiling
and saying, ‘I am glad you are pleased.’ The old Lord Foley (father of the
last) was much discontented with his father’s will, who, knowing that he
was in debt and a spendthrift, had strictly tied up the property: he tried to
set aside the will by Act of Parliament, and had a Bill brought into the
House of Lords for the purpose. George Selwyn said, ‘Our old friend Foley
has worked a miracle, for he has converted the Jews from the Old to the
New Testament.’

June 24th, 1839, Ludlow
I left London on Friday last by railroad, went to Wolverhampton (the
vilest-looking town I ever saw), and posted in my carriage from thence to
this place, where I only arrived at a quarter-past nine. This journey takes
(losing no time) about eleven and a half hours—one hundred and fifty miles
—of which thirty-four by road. The road from Bridgenorth to Ludlow is
very striking and commands exceedingly fine views.

The day before I left town I saw Lord Tavistock, who told me divers
things. I asked him what could induce Lord John to consent to making
Ballot an open question, and he replied, that nothing else could have
prevented the dissolution of the Government, and that three of the Ministers
—he did not say which—threatened to resign instanter if this concession
was not made. Here then, as I said to him, was another example of the evils
of that catastrophe which broke up the embryo Government of Peel and
brought them back again: unable to go on independently and as they desire
to do, they are obliged to truckle, and are squeezed into compliances they
abhor, and all this degradation they think themselves bound to submit to
because the principle on which their Government stands, and which
predominates over all others, is that of supporting the Queen. No Tory
Government ever ventured to dissociate its support of the Queen from its
measures and principles as a party, in the way these men do. Macaulay
made his first re-appearance in the Ballot debate in a speech of unequal
merit, but Peel and Graham complimented him on his return amongst them.
I am greatly delighted with this country, which is of surpassing beauty,
and the old Castle of Ludlow, a noble ruin, and in ‘ruinous perfection.’ On
Saturday I explored the Castle and walked to Oakley Park, Robert Clive’s,
who is also the owner of the Castle, which he bought of the Crown for
1,500ℓ. The gardens at Oakley Park are very pretty and admirably laid out
and kept, and the park is full of fine oaks. Yesterday I walked and rode over
the hills above Ludlow, commanding a panoramic prospect of the country
round, and anything more grand and picturesque I never beheld. But above
all, the hills and woods of Downton Castle, with the mountains of
Radnorshire in the distance, present a scene of matchless beauty well worth
coming from London to see.

June 26th, 1839, Delbury
I rode to Downton Castle on Monday, a gimcrack castle and bad
house, built by Payne Knight, an epicurean philosopher, who after building
the castle went and lived in a lodge or cottage in the park: there he died, not
without suspicion of having put an end to himself, which would have been
fully conformable to his notions. He was a sensualist in all ways, but a great