CHAPTER XXVI.

The Revolution in France--Princess Lieven's Narrative--Lamartine's

Position--M. Guizot in London--Proposed Addition to the Income

Tax--Sir Robert Peel spoken of--The State of Paris--The

King's Narrative to Lady Granville--The State of France--The

Convulsion in Europe--State of Ireland--Lord Palmerston invites

Guizot to Dinner--M. Delessert on the State of France--The

Revolution in Vienna--Fall of Metternich--State of England

and Ireland--Lamartine's Reply to the Irish--The Duke's

Preparations--Contemplated Measures of Repression--Lord John

Russell's Coldness--Defence of the Public Offices--Failure of

the Chartist Demonstration--Scene on April 10th--Effect of

April 10th abroad--Measures of the Government--Measures of

Relief for Ireland--Louis Philippe's Defence of the Spanish

Marriages--Lord Palmerston's Conduct in Spain--Lord Clarendon

on Ireland--Lord Palmerston's Affront in Spain--The West India

Interest--Conversation with Sir James Graham.

[Sidenote: THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.]

_London, February 28th, 1848._--The French Revolution has driven for the

time every other subject out of thought, and so astounding has the event

been, so awful and surprising from its inconceivable rapidity and the

immensity of the operation, that every mind has been kept in a restless

whirl and tumult incompatible with calm reflexion; while from the quick

succession of events crowding on each other, all dashed with lies, false

reports, exaggerations, and errors, it has been almost impossible to sit

down and give a clear, connected, and true account of what has happened;

to jot down from hour to hour all that one hears would only have been to

say one moment what must have been unsaid the next. By degrees the facts

develope themselves and the fictions are cast aside; but the time is not

yet arrived for completing this historical process. There are people

alive who remember the whole of the first Revolution, and we of middle

age are all familiar with the second; but this, the third, transcends

them both, and all other events which history records, in the

astonishing political phenomena which it displays. The first Revolution

was a long and gradual act, extending over years, in which the mind

traces an elaborate concatenation of causes and effects. The second was

not unexpected; the causes were working openly and ominously; and at

last the great stroke so rashly attempted, and by which the contest was

provoked, was only the concluding scene of a drama which for a long

preceding time had been in a state of representation before the world.

In 1789 everybody saw that a revolution was inevitable; in 1830

everybody thought that it was probable; but in 1848, up to the very

moment at which the explosion took place, and even for a considerable

time after it (that is, considerable in reference to the period which

embraced the whole thing from first to last), no human being dreamt of a

revolution and of the dethronement of the King. The power of the

Government appeared to be immense and unimpaired. The King was still

considered one of the wisest and boldest of men, with a thorough

knowledge of the country and the people he ruled; and though his

prudence and that of his Ministers had been greatly impugned by their

mode of dealing with the question of Parliamentary reform, the worst

that anybody anticipated was the fall of Guizot's Cabinet, and that

reform of some sort it would be found necessary to concede. But no one

imagined that the King, defended by an army of 100,000 men and the

fortifications of Paris (which it was always said he had cunningly

devised to give himself full power over the capital), was exposed to any

personal risk and danger. There was a strong reforming and, it might be,

a strong republican or revolutionary spirit abroad, but the principal

leaders of Opposition were understood to have no designs against the

monarchy, and it was believed by those who had good opportunities of

knowing that the _bourgeoisie_ of Paris were comparatively indifferent

to political questions, averse to revolutionary movements, and the

determined advocates of order and tranquillity. For some time before the

day appointed for the Reform banquet, much anxiety prevailed for the

peace of the capital; but when it was announced that the Government did

not mean to interfere, and that the question of the legality of the

meeting was to be referred to a judicial decision, all apprehension

subsided; and when the proclamation of Odilon Barrot and the chiefs of

the Banquet appeared, it was regarded as a false and imprudent step,

which by putting the Ministers in the right would only seem to

strengthen their authority and avert their downfall, which otherwise had

been probable. Duch‚tel made a very good speech in the Chamber of

Deputies, and proved that this last act was so clearly illegal and

mischievous that the Ministers were bound to take the course they did;

and as the banqueters showed a disposition to obey the Government,

nobody doubted that the whole affair would end quietly.

When therefore this great and sudden insurrection took place, sweeping

everything before it with the irresistible speed and violence of a

hurricane, everybody here stood aghast; but for the first two days no

one anticipated the final catastrophe. At Paris, from the King

downwards, all seem to have lost their presence of mind and judgement.

The state of things proved the fallacy of their former calculations and

expectations, and their minds seemed incapable of keeping up with the

march of events, of embracing the magnitude of the danger, and of

discerning the means by which it could be met. Everything was involved

in perplexity and confusion; the roar of insurrectionary Paris

affrighted the ears and bewildered the senses of the inmates of the

Tuileries. At the moment I am writing we are still ignorant of the

minute details of all that passed, of what the King said and did, and

how others played their several parts. We know that Guizot resigned,

that MolÈ was appointed--a capital fault, for MolÈ was another Guizot,

and the selection only proved how unconscious the King was of the

precipice on the brink of which he was standing. Some precious hours

were lost in MolÈ's abortive attempt. Then came Thiers and Odilon

Barrot, Ministers of a few hours, who, seduced by the deceptive applause

of the rabble, fancied they could command and restrain the people of

Paris, and who persuaded the King to withdraw the troops, telling him

they would answer for the people. This fatal advice cost him the Crown,

which, perhaps, he could not have kept on his head. The tide swept on; a

host of people, and among them Emile Girardin, rushed to the Tuileries,

told the King his life was menaced, and advised him to abdicate; he

refused. The people about him, and his own son amongst them (Duc de

Montpensier), pressed him, and he signed the act of abdication. Still

the crowd pressed on, and the palace was unprotected. He resolved, or

was persuaded, to fly; and with the Queen and such of his family as were

with him he quitted the palace with such precipitation that they had no

time to take anything, and they had scarcely any money amongst them.

They proceeded to Dreux, where they separated, and as yet no one knows

where the King is, or where those of his family are who are not yet

arrived in England.

[Sidenote: FALL OF LOUIS PHILIPPE.]

The Duchesse d'OrlÈans, after the terrible scene in the Chamber of

Deputies, was taken to some house in or near Paris, where she now lies

concealed. All these events passed with the velocity of an express

train; hardly an interval was placed between circumstances and

conditions of the most opposite description. No monarchy or monarch ever

fell with such superhuman rapidity. There is something awful and full of

fear and pity in the contemplation of such a tremendous vicissitude: of

a great King and a numerous and prosperous family, not many hours before

reposing in the security of an apparently impregnable power, suddenly

toppled down from this magnificent eminence and laid prostrate in the

dust, covered with ignominy and reproach, and pursued by terror and

grief. All at once the whole edifice of grandeur and happiness fell to

the ground; it dissolved, and, like the baseless fabric of a vision,

left not a rack behind. The flight was undignified. It would be hard to

accuse Louis Philippe of want of courage, of which he has given on

various occasions many signal proofs; but he certainly displayed no

resolution on this occasion. It is very doubtful whether his person

would have been injured; the people have evinced no thirst for blood.

It was then, indeed, too late for resistance, for the means had been

withdrawn; but it may fairly be asked if it would not have been the more

becoming and the wiser course to affront the danger of popular rage, and

to have tried what might have been done by firmness, by reason, and by

concession at the same time. All this is speculation. It may be that his

life and that of his Queen would have been sacrificed; but on a more

terrible occasion, when the same palace was invaded by a more formidable

mob, a King still more unpopular and a detested Queen were left

uninjured; and it is far more probable that the abdication of Louis

Philippe would have satisfied and disarmed the wrath and fury of the

people. At all events it is certain that he descended from the throne in

a manner which, if it is cruel to call it ignominious, was not rendered

captivating or affecting by any of those touching or striking

circumstances which often environ and decorate the sacrifice of fallen

majesty.

There is a strong impression that if they had unsparingly used the

military means at their disposal while it was still time, the monarchy

would have been saved and the tumult suppressed. The recollection of the

13th VendÈmiaire and the Place St. Roch, when the troops of the

Convention defeated the Sections of Paris, produces this notion. But

when the time was given to the _Èmeute_ to grow and expand, and when the

National Guards took part in it, all was over; for the troops of the

line, who would have repressed the mob, would not fight against the

National Guards. Between blunders, bad advice, and delay, the

insurrection sprang at once into gigantic proportions, and the world has

seen with amazement a King who was considered so astute and courageous,

with sons full of spirit and intelligence, sink without striking a blow

for their kingdom, perishing without a struggle, and consequently

falling dishonoured and unregretted. The end of Charles X. was far more

dignified than that of his cousin, and the survivors of that shipwreck

may see with a melancholy satisfaction their successful competitor

'whelmed in deeper gulfs' than themselves. Louis Philippe has been

seventeen years on the throne; in many respects a very amiable man, and,

though crafty and unscrupulous as a politician, and neither beloved nor

respected, he has never done anything to make himself an object of the

excessive hatred and bitter feelings which have been exhibited against

him and his family. The mob, though, on the whole, moderate and

good-humoured, have been violent against his person, and they plundered

the Palais Royal, invaded the Tuileries, and burnt Neuilly to show their

abhorrence of him. This manifestation is a cruel commentary on his reign

and his character as King.

[Sidenote: ARRIVAL OF THE FUGITIVES.]

_London, March 5th._--The fugitives have all arrived here day by day

with the exception of the Duchesse d'OrlÈans and her children, who are

supposed to be in Germany. The King and Queen came yesterday from

Newhaven, where they landed; Madame de Lieven and Guizot the day before,

the one from Paris, the other through Belgium; they were in the same

train (leaving Paris at seven o'clock on Thursday night), but neither

knew the other was there. The King, as soon as he reached England, wrote

a letter to the Queen, in which he gave her to understand that he

considered all as over with him, and he said that it was the _Comte de

Neuilly_ who thanked her for all her past and present kindness to

himself and his family. It was a very good letter (Lord Lansdowne tells

me), and the Queen was much moved by it. Her personal resentment had

long ceased; Aberdeen told me last night that she had told him so not

long ago, and that though the political question was another thing, her

personal feelings towards the French Royal Family were what they had

ever been.

Yesterday I saw Madame de Lieven, and heard her narrative, both personal

and historical. With the sufferers, as with the spectators, the

predominant feeling is one of intense astonishment amounting to a sort

of incredulity; every one repeats (as well they may) that nothing that

history has recorded, or fiction invented, ever approached this

wonderful reality, wonderful in every way, in its whole and in all its

parts, There is nothing in it that is not contrary to every antecedent

probability, to all preconceived notions of the characters of the

principal actors, and to the way in which almost everybody concerned

might have been expected to act. The beginning, the middle, and the end

of the contest have been equally wonderful: the conduct of the old

Government and the conduct of the new; the events of months or years

crammed into a few days or hours; the whole change so vast and complete,

made as at the stroke of an enchanter's wand. France, on Monday,

February 22nd, a powerful, peaceful, and apparently impregnable

Monarchy; on Wednesday, 24th of the same month, the whole of her Royalty

scattered over the face of the earth, and France become a Republic no

less powerful and peaceful; the authority of the latter form of

government as generally acknowledged as that of the former was a week

before; and an able, vigorous, and despotic Government established in

the name of the people, which was, with universal consent and

approbation, and the admiration even of those whom it had displaced,

discharging every legislative as well as executive function.

[Sidenote: PRINCESS LIEVEN ON THE REVOLUTION.]

Madame de Lieven's story runs thus. On Sunday--that is, this day

fortnight--she had a reception as usual. No alarm prevailed, but she was

a little struck by Delessert telling her that there was a good deal of

agitation amongst some of the lower orders of workmen, and those who

were known to the Government as Communists; still he did not appear to

attach much importance to it. On Monday evening Guizot told her that it

was possible there might be some rioting and disturbance in the streets

the following day, and he advised her to go out of her house for a few

hours in the morning, which she did, ordering her dinner and meaning to

return. That same day the commotions began, but still the Ministers were

unterrified; and though the affair began to be serious, they never

doubted that they should be able to suppress the tumult and restore

order. Everything went on, as is well known, up to Wednesday morning,

when Guizot saw the King, told him all would go right, and went to the

Chamber. While there Duch‚tel called him out, and told him the King

wanted him directly at the Tuileries. He was surprised, asked for what,

and proposed they should go together, which they did. When they got

there they found the King much disturbed; he said the Commandant of a

Legion of the National Guard had been to him and told him they must have

reform, and he was afraid the rest of the National Guard would follow

the example. 'Well,' said Guizot, 'if they do, we shall have no

difficulty in putting down such a demonstration.' 'Oh, but,' said the

King, 'that will produce bloodshed, and may lead to lamentable events;'

and then, after beating about the bush a good deal, and with many

expressions of personal attachment to Guizot, he said, 'Perhaps a change

of Ministers might settle everything, and relieve him from his

embarrassment.' Guizot at once said that the mere suggestion of such a

thing made it 'une affaire rÈsolue,' and if His Majesty thought that by

taking any other Ministers he could improve the state of his affairs,

he, of course, ought to do so. The King then talked of his regrets, and

that he would rather abdicate than part with him. Guizot said abdication

was not to be thought of. The King then talked of sending for MolÈ, and

Guizot assured him of his readiness to support MolÈ, or any other man

who would maintain Conservative principles. He then returned to the

Chamber, and announced that the Ministers were out. The Conservatives

were struck with astonishment and alarm; crowded round Guizot, and asked

him if he had resigned. He said 'No; that he had been dismissed.' MolÈ

was sent for, and said he would try and form a Government. The King said

he had only one exclusion to insist on: that Bugeaud should not command

the troops. MolÈ said it was the very first appointment he should

propose to His Majesty. The King wanted to keep the command in the hands

of his sons. MolÈ went away to try his hand. Meanwhile the agitation of

Paris increased. At night, hearing nothing of MolÈ, the King sent

Pasquier to him; he found him alone. 'Well, is your Government formed?'

'No, not yet; but I expect to see Passy to-morrow morning.' He was told

this would not do, and while he had been thus wasting time, the

movement was swelling and advancing. So MolÈ went to the Palace at ten

at night, and threw the thing up. Then the King sent for Thiers and

Odilon Barrot. Thiers made it a condition that the troops should not act

for twelve hours, and said he would meanwhile answer for the people. The

King consented, and he and Odilon Barrot went out into the streets on

horseback to harangue the mob, announce their Ministry, and send them

home satisfied; they were received with menaces and shots, and sent

about their business. They went back to the Tuileries and said all was

over, and they could do nothing. Early in the morning (Thursday morning)

the state of affairs having become more and more formidable, a host of

people came to the Tuileries (Emile Girardin amongst them), and all

urged the King to abdicate. He asked Thiers what he advised. Thiers had

lost his head, and said he was not his Minister, and could give no

advice; all the rest (none more urgently than the Duc de Montpensier)

pressed the King to abdicate. The King was reluctant, and Piscatory

alone entreated him not to do so. 'Il ne faut jamais abdiquer, Sire,' he

said to him; 'voil‡ le moment de monter ‡ cheval et de vous montrer.'

The Queen behaved like a heroine. She who was so mild and religious, and

who never took any part in public affairs, alone showed firmness and

resolution; she thanked Piscatory for his advice to the King, and said,

'Mon ami, il ne faut pas abdiquer; plutÙt mourez en Roi.' But the more

disgraceful counsel prevailed. He abdicated, and hurried off, as we

know. Piscatory was with him to the last, and the Queen, on parting from

him, told him to tell Guizot that she owed to him all she had enjoyed of

happiness for the last six years. Thus fell the Orleans dynasty,

_pitoyablement, honteusement_, without respect or sympathy. 'Where,' I

asked, 'were the sons, and what did they do?' Madame de Lieven only

shook her head. She herself had taken refuge at St. Aulaire's, then at

Apponyi's, then at an Austrian attachÈ's; then Pierre d'Aremberg took

her under his care, and hid her at Mr. Roberts', the English painter,

who brought her to England as Mrs. Roberts, with gold and jewels

secreted in her dress. Guizot was concealed one day at Piscatory's, the

other at the Duc de Broglie's.

[Sidenote: GREATNESS OF LAMARTINE.]

In all this great drama Lamartine stands forth pre-eminently as the

principal character; how long it may last God only knows, but such a

fortnight of greatness the world has hardly ever seen; for fame and

glory with posterity it were well for him to die now. His position is

something superhuman _at this moment_; the eyes of the universe are upon

him, and he is not only the theme of general admiration and praise, but

on him almost alone the hopes of the world are placed. He is the

principal author of this Revolution; they say that his book has been a

prime cause of it;[38] and that which he has had the glory of directing,

moderating, restraining. His labour has been stupendous, his eloquence

wonderful. When the new Government was surrounded by thousands of armed

rabble, bellowing and raging for they knew not what, Lamartine contrived

to appease their rage, to soften, control, and eventually master them;

so great a trial of eloquence was hardly ever heard of. Then from the

beginning he has exhibited undaunted courage and consummate skill,

proclaiming order, peace, humanity, respect for persons and property.

This improvised Cabinet, strangely composed, has evinced most curious

vigour, activity, and wisdom; they have forced everybody to respect

them; but Lamartine towers above them all, and is the presiding genius

of the new creation. He has acted like a man of honour and of feeling

too. He offered the King an escort; he wrote to Madame Guizot and told

her her son was safe in England, and caused the report of this to be

spread abroad that he might not be sought for; and, moreover, he sent to

Guizot to say if he was not in safety where he was he might come to his

house. When he first proposed the abolition of the punishment of death

he was overruled; but the next day he proposed it again, and declared if

his colleagues would not consent he would throw up his office, quit the

concern, and they might make him if they pleased the first victim of

the law they would not abolish. All this is very great in the man who

the Duc de Broglie told me was so bad, 'un mauvais livre par un mauvais

homme,' and consequently all France is praying for the continuation of

the life and power of Lamartine; and the exiles whom he has been

principally instrumental in driving from their country are all loud in

praise and admiration of his humanity and his capacity.

[Footnote 38: 'The Girondins,' and still more Dumas' play of the

'Chevaliers de la Maison Rouge.']

Aberdeen saw Guizot yesterday; he is in good health and spirits, and

wants for nothing. He told Aberdeen that for the last two years he

thought there was a considerable alteration in the King's mind; that he

was _occasionally_ as vigorous as ever, but on the whole that he was

changed for the worse. This makes Guizot's conduct during these two

years only the more inexcusable. He thinks (as everybody else does) that

this fine fabric which has risen like an exhalation will not last long,

and he said, 'You English bet about everything; if I was compelled to

bet, I should for choice take the Duchesse d'OrlÈans and her sons as the

most probable eventuality where everything is so uncertain.'

[Sidenote: M. GUIZOT'S NARRATIVE.]

_March 6th._--I called on Guizot yesterday; found several people there,

and Delessert, who was telling his story and all that had happened to

him. Then Guizot told us his, which, though it is essentially the same

as what Madame de Lieven told me, as it is more circumstantial and in

some respects different I will not pass over. He began with the morning

of Wednesday, when he went to the Tuileries and transacted business with

the King as usual; thence to the Chambers. Duch‚tel called him out, and

they went to the Tuileries together. In the way there Duch‚tel told him

that the King was very uneasy and alarmed at the reform petitions which

had been presented to him by the National Guards, and had been talking

of changing the Government and sending for MolÈ. When they arrived the

King addressed Guizot in this sense, said that he had received petitions

from this and that officer of the Garde Nationale, and that all the rest

would follow their example; that they all asked for Reform, and for the

dismissal of the Ministers. Guizot said he was quite ready to face the

difficulty, having the support of the Chambers; but that he must have

that of the King also. The King then sent for the Queen and the two

Dukes of Nemours and Montpensier, and they all joined with the King in

urging on Guizot the necessity of a change of Ministers to appease the

clamour that had been raised. Guizot said that from the moment the King

and the Royal Family signified such an opinion and such a desire to him,

it was 'une affaire rÈsolue,' and it was his duty to submit to their

pleasure. The King asked him if he thought MolÈ could form a Government.

He said, 'Yes, he might;' and that he should certainly have his best

support if he made the attempt. The King appears not to have been quite

decided; but while they were still conversing some one arrived from the

Chamber and informed Guizot that he must return there directly, as an

_interpellation_ was going to be made to him. He said to the King that

he must return and tell the Chamber what the state of things was, and on

what His Majesty thought fit finally to decide. The King said that he

might announce that he had sent for MolÈ to form a Government. Guizot

returned to the Chamber and made the announcement, which was received

with astonishment and indignation by the Conservative deputies, who

crowded round him and enquired if he had resigned, crying out, 'Nous

sommes abandonnÈs.' He replied that he had not resigned, but had been

dismissed. From the Chamber he returned to the Tuileries, and told the

King what had passed there. The King said he had sent for MolÈ who had

undertaken to try and form a Government. Meanwhile affairs were getting

worse in the town, and the concession of the King had of course

encouraged the factious. Guizot, who could not return home, went to the

Duc de Broglie and went to bed. Not long after, at one in the morning,

he was called up by a message desiring him to come to the Tuileries

forthwith; he went, when the King told him he had just heard from MolÈ

that he had tried Passy, Dufaure, and Billault, who had all refused, and

consequently that he could not form a Government. His Majesty said that

he was now disposed to give the command of the troops to Marshal

Bugeaud, and that of the National Guard to LamoriciËre, and let them put

down the _Èmeute_. Guizot said it was the best thing he could do, and he

would sign the decree if he would make it. This was immediately done.

Meanwhile the King had sent for Thiers, who came, accepted the office of

forming a Government, but desired that Odilon Barrot might be joined

with him, to which the King agreed. Thiers and Barrot then insisted that

for some hours the military should not be allowed to act, and they

undertook to pacify the people and put an end to the _Èmeute_. The King

having consented to this, they mounted on horseback and went off in

different directions to harangue the people and announce their Ministry.

They were severally received with hisses, uproar, and in some instances

shots, and returned to the palace and announced their failure. By this

time there was an affluence of people at the Tuileries; the storm

without increased and approached; the military, who were without orders,

did nothing, and all was over. I asked Delessert whether the troops were

well disposed. He said, 'Perfectly.' Guizot said, 'My entire conviction

is, that if Bugeaud had acted the moment he took the command, everything

would have been over before nine o'clock.' When the King was pressed to

resign, Piscatory said to him, 'Sire, si vous signez votre abdication,

vous n'aurez pas rÈgnÈ.' Guizot told me that the Government had long

been aware of the secret societies, but never could ascertain who were

their chiefs; that their intention had been to delay their republican

attempt till the death of the King, but that they had changed this plan

on the Tuesday night, and resolved to seize the present occasion. I told

him we had always supposed the _bourgeoisie_ of Paris, composing the

bulk of the National Guard, to be disposed to order, and that they would

have maintained it. He said the great majority of them were so, but that

the well-disposed had not come forth, while the factious minority had.

Moreover, 'you English cannot conceive what our lowest class is: your

own is a mere mob without courage or organisation, and not given to

politics; ours on the contrary, the lowest class, is eager about

politics and with a perfect military organisation, and therefore most

formidable.' I said Lamartine had done very well. He said yes, and

praised him, though not very cordially; and he added that he was a man

who had always wanted to be in the first place, and had never been able

to accomplish it. He had tried it in the Legitimist party, and had found

Berryer; in the Conservatives, and had found him (Guizot); and in the

Opposition, where he was met by Thiers. On the present occasion (he

might have added) he had found Odilon Barrot, but he managed to give him

the go-by. He and Odilon Barrot were at the meeting on Tuesday when the

attempt was determined on, and Odilon Barrot wanted to try the

intermediate measure of the Regency and the Duchess of Orleans; but

Lamartine flung himself at once into the Republic, and thus crushed his

colleague and placed himself without a rival at the head of the

movement. Guizot said all this could not last; that France had no desire

for a Republic; everybody had adhered from fear or prudence. He

expected, however, that there would be a great battle in the streets of

Paris within a few days between the Republicans and the Communists, in

which the former would prevail, because the National Guard would support

the former.[39]

[Footnote 39: His prediction was exactly accomplished, only a good deal

later.]

[Sidenote: M. GUIZOT'S ESCAPE.]

He gave us an account of his own personal adventures, which were very

simple. He left the Ministry of the Interior with Madame Duch‚tel, Duc

de Broglie, and two other people; and he was first taken to a house

where he was told he would be safe, and conducted by the _portiËre au

cinquiËme_. She entered the room after him and said, 'You are M.

Guizot.' He said, 'I am.' 'Fear nothing,' she said; 'you are safe here.

You have always defended honest people, and I will take care nobody

comes near you.' In the evening he went to the Duc de Broglie's; he was

one day at Piscatory's; and on Wednesday night he left Paris as

somebody's servant. He said he was never in danger, as the Government

would have been sorry to apprehend him.

_March 7th._--The French Revolution has been so absorbing as well as

exciting that I have never found time to write about domestic affairs,

so what I have now to say must be put in narrative form instead of that

of journal. I have been in continual communication with Graham for some

time past, especially during Charles Wood's income tax agony. Graham,

who is by way of being very friendly to the Government (but is evidently

not sorry to see their mismanagement and unpopularity), said so much of

the difficulty they would have in carrying the two per cent. that I went

to Charles Wood and told him what I had heard. I found him very uneasy,

and he owned to me that he had received similar opinions from many other

quarters. The same night (a Saturday) I met him at Lady Palmerston's,

when he asked me to find out from Graham what substitute he would

propose. I saw Graham on Sunday, when he more strongly urged the

necessity of abandoning the addition, saying nothing would enable them

to carry it; and he said, in answer to my enquiry, that he should take

the money the Chancellor wanted from the reserve in hand--in short, just

what the Government eventually did. I saw Charles Wood the same night,

and told him what Graham recommended, and this advice they took.

[Sidenote: POSITION OF SIR ROBERT PEEL.]

After this, and indeed before it too, Graham and I had many

conversations about the Government, its state and prospects, John

Russell and his health, Peel and political probabilities and

possibilities. We agreed that the Government was much damaged, weak and

unpopular, and would have difficulty in going on, especially if, as

seemed most likely, Lord John's health gave way, and he should be forced

to retire. I said nothing would then be possible but Peel. On this he

made me a speech, declaring Peel was impossible. He was, in the first

place, determined not to take office; Lady Peel, who has great influence

with him, doing her best to dissuade him; but, besides personal

reluctance and objections, his position puts him out of the question.

The Protectionists hate him as much as ever, and he hates them with

equal intensity; he abhors what he considers their ingratitude as well

as their folly, and nothing would induce him to have anything to do

with them, even if they would with him; therefore he has no party. In

the House of Lords he has not ten followers: how then, in a country

which can only be governed by party, can he become Minister? That to

think of putting himself at the head of a Whig party would be absurd: at

sixty years old to begin such a strange career would be ridiculous. He

said a great deal more in the same strain, all very plausible and not

easy to answer; and the conclusion from which was that, for various

reasons, Peel would not under any circumstances be Minister again. But

in the meantime the reports of Lord John's declining health gained

ground; the weakness of the Government became more apparent; the

Radicals declared war against them; and one person after another began

to turn his eyes towards Peel. There was some talk about sending for

Clarendon, which I wrote to him; and in reply he entreated me to

extinguish any such idea if I met with it; and he then demonstrated that

Peel was a necessity and the only alternative. So many people in

different ways said the same thing to me, that I told Graham. He was (or

affected to be) still impressed with all the insuperable obstacles to

Peel's return, amongst which he himself and Aberdeen were considerable,

as Peel would never return without both of them, and they were

particularly odious to the Whigs. I said _he_ was not popular with them,

but neither was he so odious; and they knew very well that if Peel

returned, he must and would return with him. As to Aberdeen it was

different, because he had behaved so ill ever since he left office, and

opposed the Government in the most unfair and ungenerous manner. He said

Peel never would have Palmerston at the Foreign Office, and would want

Aberdeen there, in whom all his confidence was placed: not but what

Aberdeen would be very ready to make any sacrifice. I told him that it

was evident there was but one way by which Peel could return to office,

and that was the arrival of a state of things which at once rendered him

a great public necessity, and the urgency of which would make his

refusal impossible; that he must be invited by the whole Whig party, not

as a favour due to him but as a sacrifice exacted from him; and that

this must be done heartily, sincerely, and in a spirit of unselfishness,

and on public and patriotic grounds. Since this Lord John Russell has

taken himself off to Hastings to try and get well. As Graham tells Peel

everything I say, the latter now knows well what is thought and

expected, and he has only so to conduct himself as to make the adhesion

and overtures of the Whig party possible and not difficult when the time

and occasion are ripe. The matter is replete with difficulties, and

nothing but a great exigency can smooth them away. At present there are

too many jealousies and animosities afloat; there is too much of

suspicion, distrust, and old dislike lingering in men's minds to admit

of the desired amalgamation; and unhappily the characters of the

principal actors, both of John Russell and Peel, are extremely ill

suited to deal with such a delicate and difficult state of affairs.

[Sidenote: STATE OF PARIS.]

_March 10th._--Lord John Russell is better, and writes word confidently

from Hastings that he shall return convalescent. Yesterday I saw

Southern and Mrs. Austin, both just arrived from Paris. They have each

been writing letters the last two or three days in the 'Times,' which

are excellent descriptions of the state of affairs in France. Nothing

can be more deplorable than it all is, and daily getting worse: no

confidence, no work, and everything threatening frightful financial and

commercial difficulties, and a general expectation of confusion,

violence, and bloodshed. Southern told me that the dissensions in the

Provisional Government were great, and the discussions violent;

Lamartine often in a minority; no regular parties formed, but a

continual dividing and crossing on different subjects. Lamartine wanted

to omit what he said in his Circular about the Treaties of 1815, but was

overruled. Southern thinks the Provisional Government will quarrel and

break up before the Chambers can meet. They both agree that all France

abhors this Revolution, but notwithstanding the bitter and universal

regret that it has occasioned, and will still more hereafter, that

nobody thinks of endeavouring to restore the monarchy in any way or

under any head. The King was not so unpopular as Guizot, and they

confirm all previous impressions, that not only he might have been

saved, but that nothing but a series of fatal and inconceivable blunders

and the most deplorable weakness could have upset him. The causes of

this prodigious effect were ludicrously small. Southern declares there

were not above 4,000 armed men of the populace actually employed; but

the troops were everywhere paralysed, boys carried off the cannon from

the midst of them without resistance. No one has the slightest

conception what turn matters will take, but all seem to be of opinion

they will have nothing to do with the Bonapartes. The Orleanses are now

detested, and even the Legitimists do not look to the Duc de Bordeaux,

because he is a poor creature, has no children, and they believe is not

likely to have any; therefore it would not be worth while to restore a

dynasty which would end with him.

_March 11th._--Guizot received a letter from the Duc de Broglie

yesterday, in which he said that Paris was quiet on the day he wrote,

but such was the state of things that any day it might be the scene of

confusion and rapine. I asked Madame de Lieven what the policy of the

Government had been about Reform. She said, King, Duch‚tel, and Guizot

had all been determined against Reform; the latter willing to concede a

very little, but always resolved to keep the Conservative majority, with

which Reform was incompatible. I asked why, after having allowed the

banquets in the provinces, they would not suffer that in the capital?

The reply was very insufficient: because they did not like to stop the

expression of public opinions in the country generally; but at Paris,

when and where the Chambers were assembled, those opinions might have

been expressed in them. I met Guizot at dinner at the Hollands'; he goes

about everywhere, is very cheerful, and puts a good face on it;

everybody is very civil to him, and he feels the kindness of his

reception, especially as he knows he has been personally obnoxious since

the Spanish marriages. He said last night, that he considered the

payment of the members of the Convention fatal to the composition of

that Assembly. The old revolutionary Assemblies never paid their

members. Napoleon was the first who introduced that custom: his Senators

were paid 30,000 fr.; his Deputies 10,000 fr. Guizot went to see the

King and Queen two days ago: the interview was very affecting; both

threw themselves on his neck; the King is the most _abattu_ of the two;

he has no money.

[Sidenote: THE KING'S NARRATIVE.]

_March 12th._--Yesterday Lady Granville and Lady Georgiana Fullerton

went to Claremont to see the Royal Family. The Queen was gone to town,

but they were received by the King, who talked to them for an hour and

gave them a narrative of his adventures, which they related to me last

night. It was very carious, that is, curious as an exhibition of his

character. He described his flight, and all his subsequent adventures,

his travels, his disguises, his privations, the dangers he incurred, the

kindness and assistance he met with, all very minutely. They said it was

very interesting, and even very amusing; admirably well told. He was

occasionally pathetic and occasionally droll; his story was told with a

mixture of the serious and the comic--sometimes laughing and at others

almost crying--that was very strange. It struck them that he was very

undignified, even vulgar, and above all that he seemed to be animated

with no feeling towards his country, but to view the whole history

through the medium of _self_. He said of the French, 'Ils ont choisi

leur sort; je dois supporter le mien.' He gave a very different account

of what passed from that of Guizot. He said he was in personal danger

when he was on horseback reviewing the National Guard on Thursday

morning; that they pressed round him, shouting for reform. He cried out,

'Mais vous l'avez, la rÈforme; laissez-moi passer donc;' and that he was

obliged to spur his horse through the mob, and got back to the Tuileries

with difficulty. He said he had _posÈ la question_ of resistance to

Guizot, who had refused to entertain it, said that he could not give

orders to fire on the National Guards. Their two statements are quite

irreconcileable, and thus occur historical perplexities and the errors

and untruths which crowd all history. I have always said that it is

nothing but a series of conventional facts. There is no _absolute_

truth in history; mankind arrives at probable results and conclusions in

the best way it can, and by collecting and comparing evidence it settles

down its ideas and its belief to a certain chain and course of events

which it accepts as certain, and deals with as if it were, because it

must settle somewhere and on something, and because a tolerable _prim‚

facie_ and probable case is presented. But when one sees how the actors

in and spectators of the same events differ in narrating and describing

them; how continually complete contradictions are discovered to facts

the most generally believed; there is no preserving the mind from a

state of scepticism, nor is it possible to read or hear anything with

entire satisfaction and faith. It appears that the Royal Family have no

money, the King having invested his whole fortune in France, and beggary

is actually staring them in the face. The King evinced no bitterness

except in speaking of the English newspapers, especially the 'Times;'

and he attributed much of his unpopularity, and what he considers the

unjust prejudices against him, to the severity of their _personal_

attacks on him! Curious enough this; but as he felt these philippics so

acutely, why did he not take warning from them?

John Russell made his appearance in the House on Friday, but as they

were not to divide he did not stay. Wilson (of the 'Economist') made a

very fine speech; Disraeli very amusing, and Gladstone very good. It was

a great night for Free Trade, which Wilson and Gladstone vindicated with

great ability. The Government have been sadly vexed at an article in the

'Times' on Friday, speaking of them, and Lord John especially, very

contemptuously. The truth is, the 'Times' thinks it has sniffed out that

they cannot go on, and wants, according to its custom, to give them a

shove; but matters are not ripe for a change yet, nor anything like it.

It is evident that the notion of the weakness and incapacity of the

Government is spreading far and wide, and nothing can exceed Charles

Wood's unpopularity, nor is any confidence felt in Lord John himself.

Palmerston is the most in favour at this moment; he has done well and

gained some credit. Peel still holds the same language about not taking

office, and treats it as a thing that is quite out of the question; but

his friends see well enough that matters are moving on to this

inevitable consummation.

_March 14th._--The Government had a capital division last night, and

Lord John made a very good and stout speech. In France everything is

going down hill at railroad pace. This fine Revolution, which may be

termed the madness of a few for the ruin of many, is already making the

French people weep tears of blood. Hitherto there has been little or no

violence, and fine professions of justice and philanthropy; up to this

time, not a month from the beginning, the account may be thus balanced:

they have got rid of a King and a Royal Family and the cost thereof;

they have got a reform so radical and complete, that it can go no

further; they have repealed some laws and some taxes which were

obnoxious to different persons or different classes, but none of which

were grievous or sensibly injurious to the nation at large. In short, it

is difficult to point out any considerable advantage either of a

positive or a negative character which they have obtained, or have got

the prospect of obtaining. However, it remains to be seen whether they

can work out any advantage from their new institutions.

[Sidenote: FRENCH PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT.]

Meanwhile, the other side of the account presents some formidable items

for a political balance sheet. They have got a Government composed of

men who have not the slightest idea how to govern, albeit they are men

of energy, activity, and some capacity. The country is full of fear and

distrust. Ruin and bankruptcy are stalking through the streets of the

capital. The old revolutionary principles and expedients are more and

more drawn forth and displayed by the present rulers; they are assuming

despotic power, and using it without scruple; they confer it on their

agents; they proclaim social and political maxims fraught with ruin and

desolation, and incompatible with the existence of any Government. The

different Ministers vie with one another in the extravagance of their

several manifestoes. Louis Blanc holds a parliament of operatives, whom

he feeds with soft sawder and delusive expectations, giving them for

political truths all the most dangerous absurdities of his book. Garnier

PagËs, in his frank _exposÈ_ of the finances of the country, approaches

to the very verge of national bankruptcy, and is evidently prepared for

the next step. Carnot instructs the people to elect for their

representatives (who are to be the unchecked masters of the Empire), not

men of property and education, but any men who have republican ideas;

and Ledru Rollin desires his agents to act in the same spirit, and with

all the authority (which means despotism) that a revolutionary

government always assumes it to be its right to exercise. In short, all

is terror, distress, and misery, both material and moral; everybody

fleeing away from the turbulent capital, and hiding what money he can

collect; funds falling, everything depreciated in value, the shops

unfrequented, no buyers, tranquillity still doubtfully preserved by

factitious means, but the duration of which no one counts upon. As the

embarrassment and suffering increase, so will the clouds continue to

gather, and at last the storm will burst--but how, when, and where, with

what fury, whom it will spare, or whom sweep away, none can venture to

predict. Such, however, is the state of the capital, the heart of

everything; while the provinces are motionless, and seem to wait with

patient resignation the unfolding of events. All the letters that arrive

here, whether they come from Legitimists, or Liberals, or Orleanists, or

indifferents to all parties, tell the same tale of disgust, distress,

and dread.

_March 16th._--I dined with Madame de Lieven _tÍte-‡-tÍte_ the day

before yesterday. Our talk, of course, was almost entirely about French

affairs. I asked her whether she thought, as many here do, that if the

_Èmeute_ had been put down by violence, the throne must have fallen, as

the King could not have reigned in the midst of bloodshed. She said the

Ministers would have gone out, but the throne would have been safe. She

told me Guizot was not indisposed to give some _parliamentary_ reform

(not electoral), and was sensible that the great number of functionaries

in the Chamber was shocking to public opinion. He proposed to begin

with his own department, and render all diplomatic agents incapable of

sitting--a very small concession! She said something to me (as Lord

Campbell did) about writing memoirs, and that my curious position--so

intimate with so many persons of all parties and descriptions, and being

so much in the confidence of all--gave me peculiar advantages for doing

so. She knew I had written Journals, and I told her it was so, but in a

very loose and casual way, and I asked her if she had not written. She

said, 'Beaucoup.'

Lord John Russell had a great success the other night, and his speech

got many votes. It was one of the best he ever made, and in all respects

judicious and becoming his position.

_March 20th._--There has been all sorts of botheration about Louis

Philippe and his affairs, particularly about his remaining at Claremont.

Soon after he came, a notification was made to him _by Palmerston_ that

he was not to remain there permanently.[40] He complained of this to all

the people he saw (talking very loosely and foolishly), and it got wind

and made a noise. Soon after, the Duke of Wellington went to see him,

and told him that Claremont was the fit place for him, and the other day

a letter arrived from Leopold telling him he might stay there as long as

he liked; he is therefore to stay. So many different versions have been

put forth of the details of what passed concerning this matter, that it

is next to impossible to ascertain the exact truth. Everything in France

gets more serious and alarming every day. The clubs of Paris are

omnipotent, the National Guards are _ÈcrasÈs_, the Provisional

Government makes a show of independence, and Lamartine makes fine

speeches; but they are at the mercy of the Parisian mob, whose

organisation is wonderful. The playing out of the game will be very

curious. At present, this mob of the capital seems resolved to dictate

to the provinces, and to set aside the army.

[Footnote 40: [Lord Palmerston made an unsuccessful attempt to remove

Louis Philippe from Claremont, although it was not even an English royal

palace at that time, but belonged to the King's own son-in-law, Leopold,

King of the Belgians. Lord Palmerston's design was signally defeated,

and only excited the disgust of all those who knew the circumstances;

but it was characteristic of his virulent personal animosity to the

Orleans family, which, indeed, appears to have dated from a much earlier

period, even before the Restoration in 1815.]]

[Sidenote: REVOLUTIONS EVERYWHERE.]

_March 25th._--Nothing is more extraordinary than to look back at my

last date and see what has happened in the course of _five days_. A

tenth part of any one of the events would have lasted us for as many

months, with sentiments of wonder and deep interest; but now we are

perplexed, overwhelmed, and carried away with excitement, and the most

stupendous events are become like matters of every-day occurrence.

Within these last four or five days there has been a desperate battle in

the streets of Berlin between the soldiers and the mob; the flight of

the Prince of Prussia; the King's convocation of his States; concessions

to and reconciliation with his people; and his invitation to all Germany

to form a Federal State; and his notification of what is tantamount to

removing the Imperial Crown from the head of the wretched _crÈtin_ at

Vienna, and placing it on his own.

Next, a revolution in Austria; an _Èmeute_ at Vienna; downfall and

flight of Metternich, and announcement of a constitutional _rÈgime_;

_Èmeutes_ at Milan; expulsion of Austrians, and Milanese independence;

Hungary up and doing, and the whole empire in a state of dissolution.

Throughout Germany all the people stirring; all the sovereigns yielding

to the popular demands; the King of Hanover submitting to the terms

demanded of him; the King of Bavaria abdicating; many minor occurrences,

any one of which in ordinary times would have been full of interest and

importance, passing almost unheeded. To attempt to describe historically

and narratively these events as they occur would be impossible if I were

to attempt it; and it is unnecessary, because they are chronicled in a

thousand publications, from which time and enquiry will winnow out the

falsehoods, and leave a connected, intelligible, and tolerably accurate

story. It is only therefore left to me to save some small fragments of

facts or sentiments which would otherwise be swept down the stream and

lost for ever, whenever such come across me.

France marches on with giant strides to confusion and ruin; Germany

looks better; and there still appear to be some influences whose

strength and authority are unimpaired, and the passion for

reconstituting a German nationality may still save her from anarchy. It

is very surprising that as yet in no country have single master-minds

started forward to ride on these whirlwinds and direct the storms. In

the midst of the roar of the revolutionary waters that are deluging the

whole earth, it is grand to see how we stand erect and unscathed. It is

the finest tribute that ever has been paid to our Constitution, the

greatest test that ever has been applied to it, and there is a general

feeling of confidence, and a reliance on the soundness of the public

mind, though not unmixed with those doubts and apprehensions which the

calmest and the most courageous may feel in the midst of such stupendous

phenomena as those which surround us.

Our most difficult task is to deal with Irish disaffection and Irish

distress: the former has never been so bold, reckless, and insolent.

Clarendon, after enduring much and allowing the agitators to go on

unchecked, at last attacked them in the persons of O'Brien, Mitchell,

and Meagher. The general opinion here was that they were not worth

attacking, and were so contemptible, and had so entirely failed to work

upon the people, that they might be let alone; but he judged otherwise,

and there is a great disposition to defer to his judgement. No sooner

had they been held to bail, than others of the same party not only

renewed the seditious language the first had used, but broke out with

far greater fury and indecency; in plain language, they called on the

people to arm for the purpose of overturning the Constitution, and they

said they would have no more kings or queens. I thought this must amount

to high treason; but George Grey told me yesterday that the lawyers here

hold that to make it treason it must be followed by some overt act.

However, whether Clarendon was right or wrong in attacking the rebel

Repealers, it is clear that he ought now to throw away the scabbard, and

war having been declared to wage it vigorously and unflinchingly. The

confidence in him is unbounded, both there and here. It is a good

feature in the case that the Roman Catholic clergy have on the whole

behaved exceedingly well, and Clarendon has written to Lord John Russell

that something must be done for them; but the difficulties of doing this

something are next to insurmountable. No amount of danger, no policy

however urgent, no considerations of justice, are sufficient to overcome

the testimony and bigotry of the people of England and Scotland on this

question.

[Sidenote: LORD PALMERSTON'S DINNER TO M. GUIZOT.]

_March 26th._--I dined yesterday with Palmerston to meet Guizot and

Madame de Lieven! Strange dinner, when I think of the sentiments towards

each other of the two Ministers, and of all that Guizot said to me when

I was at Paris last year! However, it did all very well. I thought

Palmerston and Guizot would have shaken each other's arms off, and

nothing could exceed the cordiality or apparent ease with which they

conversed. There was not the slightest symptom of embarrassment; and

though Guizot's manner is always stiff, pedantic, and without the least

approach to _abandon_, he seemed to me to exhibit less of these defects

than usual. There were the Granvilles, Clanricardes, and Harry Vane;

Temple, Holland, and Beauvale came in the evening. I am glad Palmerston

asked him to dinner, especially after what passed in reference to _the

exiles_, and the impertinent remonstrances from Paris.

_March 31st._--Nothing new these last few days; Ireland getting more and

more serious, and a strong opinion gaining ground that there will be an

outbreak and fighting, and that this will be on the whole a good thing,

inasmuch as nothing will tame the Irish agitators but a severe drubbing.

Last night I met M. Delessert[41] at dinner; he talked of the recent

events in France and the state of the country; hopeless about the

latter, and gave a character of his countrymen which he said he was

ashamed to give, but it was the truth. He said they were not to be

governed, for they had no sense of religion or of morality, or any

probity among them; he said he had been faithful to the Government to

the last, and it did not become him now to speak against Guizot and his

policy, but that his unpopularity was immense, and he had committed the

great fault of staying in power in spite of it and for so many years,

when the French could not bear anything that lasted long; he was always

aware of the fatal mistake Guizot had made about the Spanish marriages,

and the consequences of the rupture of the English alliance; and he said

Duch‚tel was of the same mind as himself, and had communicated to him

the conversation I had had with him when I was in Paris, and all I had

said on the subject. I was not aware before that I was _prÍchant un

converti_ so entirely, though I suspected it. Delane told me yesterday

that Leopold saw their correspondent the other day, and asked him if

England would give him a subsidy to assist in repelling the French and

Belgian republicans who threaten his territory; and Van de Weyer told

him they were in a great dilemma, as the French Government were letting

loose these ruffians upon them, affording them all sorts of assistance

underhand; and if the Belgian Government repelled them, it was very

likely the mob and clubs at Paris would compel the Provisional

Government to support them and swallow up Belgium. Everybody now thinks

there must be a war somewhere, out of such immense confusion and

excitement.

[Footnote 41: [M. Delessert had been PrÈfet de Police under the late

French Government, and was one of the most judicious and respected

members of the Conservative Party in France.]]

[Sidenote: THE FALL OF METTERNICH.]

_April 2nd._--There is nothing to record but odds and ends: no new

revolution, no fresh deposition. Madame de Lieven told me yesterday what

she had heard from Flahault of the outbreak at Vienna and the downfall

of Metternich. When the people rose and demanded liberal measures, they

were informed that the Council would be convened and deliberate, and an

answer should be given them in two hours. The Council assembled,

consisting of the Ministers and the Archdukes. The question was stated,

when Metternich rose and harangued them for an hour and a half without

their appearing nearly to approach a close. On this the Archduke John

pulled out his watch and said, 'Prince, in half an hour we must give an

answer to the people, and we have not yet begun to consider what we

shall say to them.' On this Kolowrath said, 'Sir, I have sat in Council

with Prince Metternich for twenty-five years, and it has always been his

habit to speak thus without coming to the point.' 'But,' said the

Archduke, 'we must come to the point, and that without delay. Are you

aware, Prince,' turning to Metternich, 'that the first of the people's

demands is that you should resign?' Metternich said that he had promised

the Emperor Francis on his deathbed never to desert his son, the present

Emperor, nor would he. They intimated that his remaining would be

difficult. Oh, he said, if the Imperial Family wished him to resign, he

should feel that he was released from his engagement, and he was ready

to yield to their wishes. They said they did wish it, and he instantly

acquiesced. Then the Emperor himself interposed and said, 'But, after

all, I am the Emperor, and it is for me to decide; and I yield

everything. Tell the people I consent to all their demands.' And thus

_the CrÈtin_ settled it all; and the great Minister, who was in his own

person considered as _the Empire_, and had governed despotically for

forty years, slunk away, and to this hour nobody knows where he is

concealed. But in this general break-up of the Austrian Monarchy there

seems still some vitality left in it, and we hear that those provinces

which demand liberal governments do not want to get rid of the dynasty;

and in the midst of the confusion there is no small jealousy of the King

of Prussia, and disgust at his attempt to make himself _Sovereign of

Germany_. The condition of Prussia is disquieting; and the King, who has

acted a part at once wavering and selfish, has raised up a host of

enemies against his pretensions.

There has been, however, something of a pause on the Continent for some

days, which gives us leisure to look inwards and consider our own

situation. We are undisturbed in the midst of the universal hubbub, and

the surface of society looks smooth and safe: nevertheless there is

plenty of cause for serious reflexion and apprehension. It is the

fashion to say that this country is sound; that the new-fangled theories

which are turning continental brains find no acceptance here; but the

outward manifestations are not entirely to be relied upon. Ireland never

was in so dangerous a state; not the less so because the Repealers and

Republicans are so mad or so wicked, and the masses so ungrateful and

stupid. It is in vain that we prove to demonstration that the Irish

would gain nothing by separation from England, and that we point to our

superhuman exertions in the famine as a proof of our good feeling. Our

remonstrances and the violent appeals of the Irish leaders are addressed

to vast masses who, in spite of all we have done for them, are in the

lowest state of misery and starvation; it is not surprising that

millions who are in this state should listen to the pernicious orators

who promise to better their condition by the Repeal of the Union and the

overthrow of English power. When men are so low and miserable that they

cannot be worse off, and they see no prospect of being better off under

the existing state of things; when they are ignorant and excitable, and

continually acted upon by every sort of mischievous influence, it would

be strange indeed if they were not as turbulent and disaffected as we

find them.

[Sidenote: OBSTRUCTION IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.]

_April 5th._--I broke off the other day, and now resume. Lord John

Russell, in reply to a question put by Jocelyn to him in the House of

Commons, said the Government would come to Parliament for powers as soon

as they deemed it necessary, and gave him to understand that they were

preparing measures, but declined to say what. His answer did not give

satisfaction. Everybody here wants something to be done to stop this

torrent of sedition. I saw Graham this morning for a short time; he is

greatly alarmed at the aspect of affairs both at home and abroad; he

thinks the temper of the masses here very serious. The Chartist meeting

on Monday next makes him uneasy, and he has talked much to George Grey

and the Speaker about precautions. The state of the law is very

doubtful, and it is a nice question whether to prevent a procession to

the House of Commons or not. The expressions of the Act about seditious

assemblies are ambiguous. Then he strongly deprecates the Queen's going

out of town on Saturday, which he thinks will look like cowardice in her

personally, and as indicative of a sense of danger which ought not to be

manifested. I advised him (and Peel, who thinks so likewise) to tell the

Government this; he said Peel would tell the Prince. He spoke very

bitterly of Lord John Russell's having allowed the Irish Arms Bill to

expire, and showed me his speech in which he engaged, if necessary, to

come down and ask for fresh powers. I said, 'Why don't they come now?'

He said it would be very difficult now; that the forms of the House,

which enabled anybody to obstruct, would infallibly be seized on, and no

Bill allowed to pass; every sort of delay would be interposed. I said,

'They ought not to endure this, and should suspend the Standing Orders.'

_J. G._--How was this to be done? They would never allow the question to

be put.

_C. G._--Surely the House of Commons never will allow itself to be

turned into a Polish Diet with a _liberum veto_ to any man who chose to

obstruct the business of the country. If there is no other way, it will

be a time for the Speaker to interfere; he alone can do it; refuse to

put the question of adjournment, and cast himself on the House for

support. A brave Speaker will do this.

_J. G._--This is a very serious matter: our forms are admirable, and

with gentlemen are everything that is useful and desirable. If once you

set them aside, all freedom of debate will be gone, and from such a

_coup d'Ètat_ there would be an appeal out of doors.

_C. G._--The appeal would not be successful in such a case; the English

abhor the Irish and their proceedings, and will never endure that the

House of Commons shall be dictated to by Irish Repealers and agitators.

Here somebody came in, and we were obliged to leave off.

The reply of Lamartine to the Irish deputation, which has been so

anxiously expected, came yesterday, and excellent it was. He gave a

lecture to the Irish much stronger than any they have had here; and if

his speech does no good, it will certainly do no harm. There is now an

increasing opinion that the French will be driven to go to war somewhere

as a relief from the intolerable distress in which the country will soon

be plunged. Beggary and anarchy are striding on at a fearful rate, and

the present bloodless but most agitated and frightened state will in all

probability soon be changed into scenes of violence brought about by the

ferocity of every kind of unchained passion.

_April 6th._--Ireland now absorbs all other interests. I saw Grey

yesterday, who told me they did not mean to do anything till after

Monday next, but then they would. It has not yet been determined whether

they should stop the Chartists from entering London or not, but a

Cabinet was to be held to decide the matter to-day.[42] He thought they

should prevent their crossing the bridges. I saw the Duke in the morning

at Apsley House in a prodigious state of excitement; said he had plenty

of troops, and would answer for keeping everything quiet if the

Government would only be firm and vigorous, and announce by a

proclamation that the mob should not be permitted to occupy the town. He

wanted to prevent _groups_ from going into the Park and assembling

there, but this would be impossible.

[Footnote 42: [These were the preparations for the Great Chartist

meeting announced to be held by Feargus O'Connor on Kennington Common on

April 10, when a Chartist Petition, signed by five millions of persons,

was to be presented by a huge procession of the people to the House of

Commons.

On April 7 Sir George Grey brought in a Bill for the better security of

the Crown and Government of the United Kingdom, directed against all

persons who sought to accomplish seditious ends by open speaking.

The Duke of Wellington explained to the Cabinet on the 6th, with

admirable lucidity, the details of his preparations.]]

[Sidenote: SIR ROBERT PEEL ON OBSTRUCTION.]

This morning I had another conversation with Graham. He told me he sat

next to Hobhouse at Hardinge's dinner[43] at the India House last night,

and had much very open talk with him. He understood from Hobhouse that

Government did not intend to do anything, and he told him that he was

afraid that they would find great difficulty in surmounting the

obstacles that the forms of the House would enable the Opposition to

throw in their way. Subsequently, however, he had a conversation with

Peel, who he found took a very different view of the matter, and the

same that I do. He said that the Government ought to act as if they had

no doubt of obtaining all they required from Parliament; to consider

well what that was; to choose their time, not delaying it long, and then

to have a call of the House and ask for all the powers they require. If

they find themselves thwarted by a minority moving successive

adjournments, to sit there for any number of hours; to divide twenty or

thirty times; and at last, when they had sufficiently proved to the

country that their efforts were vain, and that they had exhausted all

legitimate means, to give up the contest, instantly hold a Cabinet, and

then a Council, by which they should do by Order in Council what they

wished to do by Act of Parliament, and trust to public opinion and

Parliament to support and sanction their proceedings. He told me he had

expressed to Hobhouse the strong opinion he has of the inexpediency,

even the danger, of the Queen's quitting town at this juncture, and that

if these strong measures are to be adopted, her presence would of course

be indispensable. The Speaker told him that an Act of Parliament was not

necessary, as by an old Act (21 & 22 George III.) the Lord Lieutenant

could in case of rebellion (of the existence of which he was himself the

judge) proclaim martial law and suspend the Habeas Corpus; but Peel is

against having recourse to such a measure, and prefers the application

to Parliament. He thinks, too, that if the Government do not soon adopt

such a course, they will be incurring a responsibility far more fearful

than any they can incur by its adoption--the responsibility of all the

blood that will be shed and the mischief that will ensue. Graham again

spoke of John Russell's conduct in giving up the Arms Act, and said that

he had so great a regard for him that he would not say one word against

him on that score; but that he must expect to hear of it in case of

extremities, and that he would be called to a severe account if there

should be an outbreak, and if torrents of blood were shed by the

instrumentality of those arms which but for him would not have been put

into every man's hands. In my conversation with Grey yesterday, he told

me that the Church question must be brought forward--not now, because

the moment of rebellion and armed resistance was not that in which it

would be wise or dignified or right to make concessions and introduce

remedial measures; but that when peace was restored, and in another

year, this great question must be faced and dealt with; the details,

however, it is no use as yet to enter into.

[Footnote 43: [A dinner was given to Lord Hardinge on April 5, on his

return from India.]]

_April 9th._--After I had seen Graham the other morning, I thought it of

such importance that John Russell should know what he and Peel thought,

that I went to him and told him. He received me with one of his coldest

and most offensive manners, said nothing, and did not vouchsafe to tell

me that they had made up their minds to do something, and that Grey was

going to give notice of a Bill in a few minutes from that time. Nothing

could be more ungracious, and I mentally resolved never to go near him

again to tell him anything of use to him. I wrote to the Duke of Bedford

and told him all this; and he wrote me back word that he was not

surprised, and that nobody had more to suffer from John's manner than he

himself; that John is very obstinate and unmanageable, and does not like

to be found fault with or told things which run counter to his own

ideas--all which he owned was very unfortunate, and a grievous fault in

his character.

All London is making preparations to encounter a Chartist row

to-morrow: so much that it is either very sublime or very ridiculous.

All the clerks and others in the different offices are ordered to

be sworn in special constables, and to constitute themselves into

garrisons. I went to the police office with all my clerks, messengers,

&c., and we were all sworn. We are to pass the whole day at the office

to-morrow, and I am to send down all my guns; in short, we are to take

a warlike attitude. Colonel Harness, of the Railway Department, is our

commander-in-chief; every gentleman in London is become a constable,

and there is an organisation of some sort in every district.

[Sidenote: THE CHARTIST MOVEMENT IN LONDON.]

_Newmarket, April 13th._--Monday passed off with surprising quiet, and

it was considered a most satisfactory demonstration on the part of the

Government, and the peaceable and loyal part of the community. Enormous

preparations were made, and a host of military, police, and special

constables were ready if wanted; every gentleman in London was sworn,

and during a great part of the day, while the police were reposing, they

did duty. The Chartist movement was contemptible; but everybody rejoices

that the defensive demonstration was made, for it has given a great and

memorable lesson which will not be thrown away, either on the

disaffected and mischievous, or the loyal and peaceful; and it will

produce a vast effect in all foreign countries, and show how solid is

the foundation on which we are resting. We have displayed a great

resolution and a great strength, and given unmistakable proofs, that if

sedition and rebellion hold up their heads in this country, they will be

instantly met with the most vigorous resistance, and be put down by the

band of authority, and by the zealous co-operation of all classes of the

people. The whole of the Chartist movement was to the last degree

contemptible from first to last. The delegates who met on the eve of the

day were full of valour amounting to desperation; they indignantly

rejected the intimation of the Government that their procession would

not be allowed; swore they would have it at all hazard, and die, if

necessary, in asserting their rights. One man said he loved his life,

his wife, his children, but would sacrifice all rather than give way.

In the morning (a very fine day) everybody was on the alert; the parks

were closed; our office was fortified, a barricade of Council Registers

was erected in the accessible room on the ground-floor, and all our guns

were taken down to be used in defence of the building. However, at about

twelve o'clock crowds came streaming along Whitehall, going northwards,

and it was announced that all was over. The intended tragedy was rapidly

changed into a ludicrous farce. The Chartists, about 20,000 in number,

assembled on Kennington Common. Presently Mr. Mayne appeared on the

ground, and sent one of his inspectors to say he wanted to speak to

Feargus O'Connor. Feargus thought he was going to be arrested and was in

a terrible fright; but he went to Mayne, who merely said he was desired

to inform him that the meeting would not be interfered with, but the

procession would not be allowed. Feargus insisted on shaking hands with

Mayne, swore he was his best of friends, and instantly harangued his

rabble, advising them not to provoke a collision, and to go away

quietly--advice they instantly obeyed, and with great alacrity and

good-humour. Thus all evaporated in smoke. Feargus himself then repaired

to the Home Office, saw Sir George Grey, and told him it was all over,

and thanked the Government for their leniency, assuring him the

Convention would not have been so lenient if they had got the upper

hand. Grey asked him if he was going back to the meeting. He said No;

that he had had his toes trodden on till he was lame, and his pocket

picked, and he would have no more to do with it. The petition was

brought down piecemeal and presented in the afternoon. Since that there

has been an exposure of the petition itself, covering the authors of it

with ridicule and disgrace. It turns out to be signed by less than two

millions, instead of by six as Feargus stated; and of those, there were

no end of fictitious names, together with the insertion of every species

of ribaldry, indecency, and impertinence. The Chartists are very

crestfallen, and evidently conscious of the contemptible figure they

cut; but they have endeavoured to bluster and lie as well as they can in

their subsequent gatherings, and talk of other petitions and meetings,

which nobody cares about.

[Sidenote: PLANS FOR IRELAND.]

_London, April 15th._--Every account from every quarter proves the

wonderful effect produced by the event of Monday last. Normanby writes

me word that it has astonished and disappointed the French more than

they care to admit; and it has evidently had a great effect in Ireland,

where Smith O'Brien is gone back in doleful dumps at his rebuff at

Paris, and his reception in the House of Commons. Clarendon writes word

that if there is any outbreak, which he now doubts, it will probably be

after a great tea-party they were about to have on Smith O'Brien's

return. The Government have gained some credit and some strength by this

affair, as well as by their (at last) bringing fresh measures of a

protective character into Parliament. The Conservatives are very angry

with them for giving way on the clause about 'words spoken,' in the new

Bill, and for consenting to make it temporary. Graham told me he had

great doubts about that clause, but he would support whatever they

proposed. It is certainly true that their concessions are not well

managed; they do not come down and make them as if on mature

consideration; but they suffer themselves to be bullied out of them by

their Radical opponents, and this gives them an air of vacillation and

irresolution which is very prejudicial. Lord John made a very good

speech on this Bill, and George Grey by common consent does his work

very well indeed.

I had some talk with the Duke of Bedford at Newmarket about Ireland, and

told him my plan of operations, that is, the idea that has presented

itself to my mind. It consists of two parts--one as to the land, the

other the Church. I propose that the Government should become a great

proprietor and capitalist, raising whatever funds are necessary, and

expending them in productive works and the employment of labour. I have

observed that all who have written, spoken, or thought on this subject,

agree that the indispensable thing for Ireland is the application of

capital to the developement of the resources of the country and the

employment of its people. Nobody will invest capital there in its

present state; consequently those resources remain undeveloped, and the

people are in a state of idleness and starvation; that which it is

desirable that everybody should do, but which nobody will do, must be

done by the Government itself. I have only as yet formed the idea,

without having deeply considered it, still less attempted to work

out its details. The other question, the Church, that eternal

stumbling-block, does not present less difficulty, but is equally

urgent. This morning the Duke of Bedford came here and told me he had

spoken to Lord John about my ideas, but without going into any detail,

or even explanation, and Lord John said he should like to talk to me

about it himself; he said, moreover, that they not only mean to propose

something about the Church, but have got a plan half prepared. They will

not, however, attempt to bring anything forward this year, and they

would be very wrong if they did.

There has just appeared in all the newspapers a long letter of Louis

Philippe's to the Queen of the Belgians, giving his whole case about the

Montpensier marriage, with certain other letters from Guizot and

Salvandy on the same subject. These papers were found at the Tuileries,

and have been published at Paris. The history of this letter is this.

When the King had concocted the marriage he made his Queen write to

ours, and after mentioning all his family by name, and telling her all

they were severally about, she mentioned this marriage in the same

casual way, as a happy event in the family. Our Queen wrote an answer,

in which she expressed her satisfaction at the happiness and prosperity

of the different members of her family whom Queen Marie AmÈlie had

enumerated, excepting the last topic, that of the marriage. This she

said was a _political_ matter, on which she entertained very different

sentiments. It was then that Louis Philippe wrote this long epistle

which the Queen of the Belgians sent to our Queen, who wrote a very

laconic reply, saying that it had not altered her opinion, and that she

considered that the King had forfeited the word he had given her. These

letters she showed to Lord John Russell and Palmerston. The King was

furious, and from that moment no more communication took place between

them till the letter the Queen wrote to him (or to Queen Marie AmÈlie)

on the death of Madame AdÈlaÔde. The Duchess of Gloucester sent the

Duchess of Bedford a letter of the Queen's to her on the present state

of affairs and her own situation, which exhibits her in a very amiable

light. She talks with such sympathy of the sufferings of others in whom

she is interested, and with such thankfulness for the many blessings

which she herself enjoys, and which she says she almost 'grudges' when

she looks round and sees the afflictions of so many whom she loves. The

expression is faulty, but the idea is clear.

[Sidenote: SIR HENRY BULWER'S EXPULSION FROM MADRID.]

_April 30th._--While I was at Newmarket the newspapers published the

correspondence between Palmerston, Bulwer, and Sotomayor, which excited

great interest and no small animadversion even there.[44] It was a

choice specimen of Palmerston's spirit of domination, which, so far from

being moderated by all that was said about his Greek correspondence,

seems only to have broken out with fresh virulence on this occasion. It

remains to be seen whether John Russell and his colleagues will once for

all make a stand against his arbitrary and independent administration of

the Foreign Office, or submit to it: this must be the crisis. The Duke

of Bedford told me he had read it in the papers with much annoyance,

because he foresaw the difficulties it would produce; that he had known

of it some time ago, and of what had occurred relating to it; that

Palmerston had shown John Russell the despatch, and that Lord John had

objected to it, stating his reasons for so doing. According to his

custom, Palmerston made no reply; but they parted, Lord John naturally

concluding that after he had stated his objection the despatch would not

be sent. Shortly after he was with the Queen, and in conversation on

this subject he told her what had passed between Palmerston and

himself, and what he had said. 'No; did you say all that?' said the

Queen. He said, 'Yes.' 'Well then,' she replied, 'it produced no effect,

for the despatch is gone. Lord Palmerston sent it to me; I know it is

gone.' What more passed I do not know. The only difference Palmerston

made was that he divided his despatch to Bulwer into two, but he did not

omit or alter a word of what Lord John had objected to. When I first

heard this my impression was that this was such a daring defiance of the

Prime Minister and such an insulting indifference to the sentiments of

his colleagues that it must lead to a quarrel, and that Palmerston would

be forced to resign. I anticipated discussions in both Houses of

Parliament, in which Palmerston's colleagues would be obliged to speak

out, especially John Russell, and that they would throw him over, which

if they did it would be impossible for him to stay in. Lord Stanley, who

was at Newmarket all last week, told the Duke of Bedford that it was

very much against his inclination to attack Palmerston, who was so

good-natured and agreeable, but that it was impossible to pass this

over. Still on consideration I suspect that Palmerston's audacity and

good fortune, his rare dexterity, and total absence of sensitiveness

will carry him through. They will probably knock under to him, they will

not venture to throw him over in public, and will content themselves

with some timid remonstrance in private, which he will receive with

perfect good humour and treat with sovereign contempt. He has not

evinced the slightest disposition to give way, for I heard yesterday

that he has written to Bulwer fully approving of his letter. He has

replied to Sotomayor in a tone of sarcasm, and he has taken this

opportunity to make Bulwer K.C.B. Of course he will not hear of

recalling him, and I begin to think that it will end in his dictating to

everybody, Spanish Cabinet and his own colleagues, and he will march on

triumphant in the midst of ineffectual grumblings and abortive efforts

to restrain him.

[Footnote 44: [On March 16 Lord Palmerston addressed a despatch to Sir

Henry Bulwer, British Minister at Madrid, in which he directed him to

represent to the Queen of Spain that she would do well to change her

Government. Sir Henry not only communicated this despatch to Queen

Christina and the Duc de Sotomayor, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, but

caused it to be published in the Opposition journals. The Spanish

Government returned the despatch with a haughty answer. Lord Palmerston,

however, approved the conduct of Sir H. Bulwer, and the consequence was

that on May 19 the British Minister was ordered to leave Spain in

forty-eight hours.]]

[Sidenote: LORD CLARENDON ON IRISH CATHOLICS.]

_May 3rd._--Palmerston and John Russell seem to have made up this matter

(if ever they quarrelled about it, which they probably did not), for I

hear of Lord John expressing joy that it is taken up by Urquhart in the

House of Commons rather than by any more formidable opponent. Ben

Stanley tells me that it is all Bulwer's fault, and that he was

instructed only to interfere if a suitable opportunity presented itself,

and then verbally; but as Palmerston will not throw over Bulwer, it is

an _imbroglio_, and will make a bother; but it is clear that Palmerston

is in no danger. Ben Stanley also says that the Spanish Government are

very anxious to make it up; however, we shall have something elicited by

the discussions.

I had a long letter from Clarendon yesterday, and saw Southern[45] in

the morning, just come from Dublin, where he has been staying several

weeks. The former wrote to me on the subject of the Irish Church, and

says that he is all against touching it, for that the Protestants are

now the sole link between the two countries, and that they from feelings

of pride and old associations cling to that Establishment with

unconquerable tenacity, and any attempt to invade it would alienate the

whole Protestant body and render them repealers also. He writes at

considerable length on this topic, and what he says may be true; but if

it be, and if it is always to be acted on, peace never can be

attainable. Southern says everything is better so far as the chance of

any immediate outbreak is removed, but that the state of the country is

not improved, and that the chronic agitation and disaffection will only

go on the more in every district under the priests. Clarendon says not a

Roman Catholic in Ireland is to be trusted, and gives a deplorable

picture of the condition of landed property and proprietors; the

inveterate habit of selfishness and indifference to the state of the

masses, which has so long distinguished the landowners, makes it

impossible to get them to act on the principles which regulate the

relations of landlord and tenant here; and he assures me that there are

many who contemplate in the most cold-blooded way the relief from a

starving and redundant population by the operation of famine. Then the

tricks and jobbing of those who are concerned in the administration of

the poor laws produce infinite mischief, and in short the whole

material, high and low, is so corrupt that it is an Herculean task for

anybody to introduce order into such a chaos, and to try and weed out

its manifold evils. He complains that his plans and schemes for

employing the people and developing the national resources do not meet

with the attention he has a right to expect from the Government, and he

doubts if Lord John Russell comprehends, or even reads them.

[Footnote 45: [Mr. Southern had been Lord Clarendon's private secretary

when he was Minister in Spain, and had just paid him a long visit in

Ireland. Southern entered the diplomatic service, and eventually became

British Minister at Rio Janeiro, where he died.]]

Yesterday arrived the news of Smith O'Brien's affair at Limerick,[46]

which was hailed with great satisfaction. Ever since the Bill passed

there has been a manifest falling off in the violence and determination

of the Patriots; they have quailed under the force of Government, and

nothing can be more paltry than the figure they are now cutting compared

with their boastings and menaces the other day. Mitchell, Meagher, and

O'Brien were near being killed at Limerick by an O'Connellite mob, and

were saved by the interposition of the Queen's troops. Smith O'Brien was

severely beaten, and has renounced the country, and says he will retire

into private life. Mitchell, who meant to meet the law and the

Government face to face, and dared them to the fight, has recourse to

every sort of chicanery, and avails himself of all the technical pleas

he can find to delay his trial. All these things have drawn both

ridicule and contempt on these empty boasters, who began by blustering

and swaggering, and who now crouch under the blows that are aimed at

them.

[Footnote 46: [On April 29 an affray took place at Limerick between the

Old and Young Irish Repealers. Meagher delivered one of his most

impassioned speeches. But the 'moral force' O'Connellites attacked and

beat the other party.]]

[Sidenote: CENSURE OF SIR HENRY BULWER.]

_May 7th._--The Limerick affair and discomfiture of the Young Irelanders

has given a great blow to the whole rebellious faction, put Clarendon

in spirits, and for the time cleared the horizon, and dispelled all

chance of disturbance or outbreak. People jump to the conclusion (and

the press takes that line) that the agitation is entirely at an end, and

Ireland about to become peaceable if not satisfied. I have had a letter

from Bessborough,[47] who tells me what Clarendon and Crampton said to

him about Catholic endowment, and of the impossibility of it. The

latter, he says, mixes with people of every denomination and

description, and his opinion upon it he thinks entitled to much

attention. Bessborough also thinks everything is looking better in

Ireland, and more promising for future prosperity and tranquillity; he

anticipates, in short, a very prosperous year.

[Footnote 47: [John George Ponsonby, fifth Earl of Bessborough,

succeeded his father (the late Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland) in 1847. He

died in 1880.]]

Meanwhile everything is improving here. Within the last week there is a

manifest revival of trade both in Lancashire and Yorkshire, and the

magnificent weather which has succeeded the long course of rain and cold

promises as good a harvest as the farmers can desire.

On Friday evening Stanley made his attack on Palmerston in a very

brilliant speech, which Guizot was there to hear. He made a strong case,

and Lord Lansdowne a very weak defence, and that only by throwing over

Bulwer, and casting the blame on him. It will all end in nothing, as

usual, and Palmerston will not care a straw. It is, however, damaging,

for everybody thinks that he has been flippant, and that there was

neither motive nor occasion for his interferences, or that it has been

well done if there had been. In short, it is an ill-judged unskilfully

conducted proceeding.

_May 9th._--Palmerston got another drubbing last night in the Lords,

which will be a lesson to him, if anything can. Stanley made a second

speech, still more effective than his first, and Aberdeen followed him.

Lord Lansdowne was miserably feeble in reply, as he might well be,

having no case. I never saw public opinion more strongly or generally

pronounced, and it may be of use in moderating Palmerston for the

future. If he were not the man he is, there would be no doubt of it,

but he is apparently incurable. The whole affair is very discreditable

to the Government. It looks bad enough as it is; but what would people

think of it if they knew that Lord John Russell had seen these offensive

despatches, had objected to them, and that they had gone in spite of

him; and now he and his colleagues are obliged to come down to

Parliament and to defend them?

_May 13th._--Palmerston's affair has not failed to produce certain

consequences. Lord Lansdowne was in a state of great indignation and

disgust; he told the Duke of Bedford he never had in all his life been

placed in such a situation, that he had not cared for Stanley's first

speech, but that when he made his second, he was conscious he had not a

word to say. He had never read the despatches, and had not a notion how

far Palmerston had committed himself in approval of Bulwer. He said that

he had been to Lord John and told him this must never happen again, and

it was arranged between them (he little knows how vainly) that for the

future Lord John at least should see Palmerston's despatches before they

go. Hobhouse spoke to me about it, and in reply to my remarks saying how

unfair it was to place such a man as Lord Lansdowne in such a position,

he very comically said, 'I wish _you_ would say all this to Palmerston.'

This was too good a joke, as I told him, that he a Cabinet Minister, his

colleague and sharing his responsibility, could not tell him his mind,

and should ask me to tell Palmerston the truths it behoved him to know.

Both Labouchere and Charles Wood also spoke to me about it. I said to

the latter, '_Unless Palmerston is quite incorrigible_ all this will be

a lesson to him, and restrain him for the future.' He replied, 'You are

quite right to put in that proviso.' Such is the state of things in this

Cabinet.

Charles Wood asked me to go to Graham and find out what his views were

about the West Indian question, and whether he was prepared to grant the

West Indians any relief, and to meddle with the Bill of 1846. I went to

him yesterday morning, and was with him for two hours, talking about

everything and everybody.

[Sidenote: THE QUARREL WITH SPAIN.]

_May 14th._--Graham said about the West Indians that the old proprietors

must be ruined, nothing could save them. New purchasers who went out and

cultivated these estates might do well, but men _here_ could no longer

derive incomes from sugar duties; he would not disturb the arrangement

of 1846, though he thought the Government had been wrong in making it,

and he and Peel had only supported them because if they had been beaten

they would have gone out. Nor would he give any money; said that the

Committees now sitting would recommend doing away with the African fleet

and the whole of our anti-slavery machinery, and that all that could be

done for the West Indians was to authorise a sort of regulated slave

trade, procuring labourers and making them free; the people of this

country had tasted cheap sugar, and would not now go back to dear; he

anticipated no difficulty from the French Government in doing away with

the Treaty, but much from Palmerston, who would hardly be brought to

propose it. We talked much of the Spanish correspondence, of Palmerston,

John Russell, and the rest; Graham could not understand how Lord Grey

stood it, seeing that everything that had happened had justified him in

his original objections. He told me a story of John Russell's having sat

by somebody (I found out afterwards it was Ellice), just after the

suppression of the insurrection at Madrid, to whom he expressed his

satisfaction at the Government having put it down, and added, 'Think of

that fool Bulwer having taken that opportunity to make an attempt in

favour of the Progressista party,' which Graham said was a proof that he

had not known anything of Palmerston's instructions. I did not tell him

what the real state of the case was. He said that he and Peel did not

want to turn the Government out, nor embarrass them, and therefore gave

me to understand that they should not take any part against Palmerston;

but he severely criticised his conduct, and was evidently very glad at

his getting into such a scrape. His general views were very apparent to

me; he has a great contempt for the Government, thinks nobody has done

well but Sir George Grey and Clarendon, but is biding his time and

acting on the policy which I long ago saw was the true one, of making a

junction with the Whigs possible hereafter. He is very much provoked

with Lincoln and Gladstone, who he said were 'impatient,' and acting in

a spirit of most injudicious half hostility and annoyance to the

Government; he sees all the inconvenience of this course, but he does

not choose to interfere, and I perceive he does not like Lincoln nor

think highly of him. His object is to have as many doors open to himself

and Peel as is possible by-and-by, and he looks to govern upon such

popular principles, and at the same time safe ones, as may enable them

to raise a standard that will have attraction for all moderate,

sensible, and liberal people. He anticipates a great part to be played

by Francis Baring, of whose talents and influence he thinks highly; that

he is greatly improved in speaking; and being now head of the great

family of Baring, opulent, with a strong mind and will, very rigid and

severe in his principles, he must be a very conspicuous and powerful man

in public life. I have no doubt he would like to coalesce with Baring

by-and-by, and have him for Chancellor of the Exchequer in their

Government when they make one; he talked of Aberdeen and the way he was

'cottoning' himself to Stanley; owned that these times of universal

revolution were unsuitable to the genius and taste of Aberdeen, who was

an excellent foreign minister with Peel, adopting his free trade

principles, and dealing with monarchical Europe; but now the scholar of

Castlereagh, whose inclinations all lay towards Metternich and Guizot,

was disgusted and disheartened at the spectacle Europe presented. I

hinted that this might in some degree prove convenient, which he

perfectly understood.