A Ball at the Palace--Aspect of Foreign Affairs--Irish Tithe
Bill--Debate on Sir T. Acland's Motion--Death of Prince
Talleyrand--Death and Character of Lady Harrowby--Government
defeated on Emancipation of Slaves--Dispute of Mr. Handley and
Lord Brougham--Dinner at Lambeth--Arrangement of Irish
Questions--Settlement of Irish Questions--O'Connell declines
the Rolls--Naval Intervention in Spain--Duke of Wellington's
Moderation--Marshal Soult arrives--Preparations for the
Coronation of Queen Victoria--The Wellington Statue--The
Coronation--Coleridge and John Sterling--Lord Durham's Mission
to Canada--Lord Brougham contrasted with the Duke--Macaulay on
his return from India--Soult in London--Duke of Sussex quarrels
with Ministers--Lord Burghersh's Opera--High Church Sermons--
Lord Palmerston and Mr. Urquhart--The Ecclesiastical Discipline
Bill--The Duke's Despatches--Macaulay's Plan of Life--Lord
Durham's Canada Ordinance--Mr. Barnes--Canada Indemnity Bill--
Lord Durham's Ordinance disallowed--Irish Corporation Bill--
Review of the Session.
May 11th, 1838 {p.91}
Last night I was at the ball at the Palace--a poor affair in
comparison with the Tuileries. Gallery ill-lit; rest of the rooms
tolerable. The Queen's manner and bearing perfect. She danced,
first with Prince George, then young Esterhazy, then Lord
FitzAlan. Before supper, and after dancing, she sat on a sofa
somewhat elevated in the drawing-room, looking at the waltzing;
she did not waltz herself. Her mother sat on one side of her, and
the Princess Augusta on the other; then the Duchesses of
Gloucester and Cambridge and the Princess of Cambridge; her
household, with their wands, standing all round; her manners
exceedingly graceful, and, blended with dignity and cordiality, a
simplicity and good humour, when she talks to people, which are
mighty captivating. When supper was announced she moved from her
seat, all her officers going before her--she, first, alone, and
the Royal Family following; her exceeding youth strikingly
contrasted with their mature ages, but she did it well. I was
struck last night for the first time with the great change in the
Duke of Wellington's looks; others have noted it before. He is no
longer so straight and upright, and old age is taking possession
of his features in a way that is distressing to see. He has lived
long enough for his own renown, but he cannot live long enough
for the good of his country, let what will happen and when it
may. It is a fine sight to regard the noble manner in which he is
playing the last act of his glorious life.
My brother writes me word from Paris that Leopold is deadly sick
of his Belgian crown, and impatient to abdicate, thinking that it
is a better thing to be an English Prince, uncle to the Queen,
with £50,000 a year, than to be monarch of a troublesome vulgar
little kingdom which all its neighbours regard with an evil or a
covetous eye. Louis Philippe is in a mighty fright about it, and
he is right, for Leopold's abdication would be almost sure to
disturb the peace of Europe. Stanley thinks the peace of Europe
will be disturbed, and that speedily, by the great antagonistic
forces of religion growing out of the Prussian disputes between
the Court of Berlin and the Archbishop of Cologne; this he told
me the other day, and said people were little aware of what a
religious storm was brewing; but his opinions are not to be
trusted very confidently, especially when religion is concerned
in them.
May 13th, 1838 {p.092}
[Page Head: THE APPROPRIATION CLAUSE MAINTAINED.]
The world was astonished by Sir Thomas Acland giving notice of a
motion, which comes on to-morrow, for expunging from the Journals
the famous Appropriation Resolution which turned out Peel's
Government.[1] It was doubted at first whether this was a spurt
of his own or a concerted project, but it turns out to have been
the latter. The Government think it a good thing for them, as
they count upon a certain majority, and I am quite unable to see
the use of such a motion as this, even as a party move. The Duke
of Wellington said, at the end of last Session, that he wished to
meet the Government half way, and settle the Tithe question, and
nothing can be less likely to promote an adjustment than this
attack; but I understand _now_ they do not wish to settle it, and
that they prefer trusting to the operation of Stanley's Bill, and
say there is no reason for accepting 75 per cent. for the clergy
when they can eventually get the whole. But they had better
settle the question if they possibly can, for experience might
have shown them that if the spirit of resistance and hostility to
the Church is again roused into action, the means of vexing and
impoverishing the clergy will not be wanting, and the provisions
of Stanley's Bill will only have the effect of making the
landlords parties to the contest, who, if they find their own
interests at variance with the interests of the Church, will not
hesitate for a moment in sacrificing the latter. It is very
surprising that Peel should consent to this motion, and the more
so because his speech at the dinner yesterday is said to have
been extremely moderate in all respects.
[1] [Upon Lord John Russell bringing in a Bill for settling
the Irish Tithe question, Sir Thomas Acland moved, as a
preliminary step to this discussion, that the
celebrated resolution of the 8th of April, 1835, for
the appropriation of the surplus revenues of the Irish
Church should be rescinded. Upon a division the
Government proposal was carried by 317 to 298 votes.]
May 18th, 1838 {p.093}
At Newmarket all the week past. Since I have been away there was
the debate and division on Acland's motion. The Government talked
of 23, and the Opposition of 15 majority, and it turned just
between the two. It was a very ill-advised measure, and I have no
doubt was forced on Peel against his judgement, and that it was
not approved by the Duke; but the fact is, they cannot manage
their party. Peel's speech was anything but good, and smacked of
unwillingness; Stanley's was very poor; John Russell's was very
good in facts, but ill-judged in some respects, and it is neither
wise nor dignified, nor in good taste, to keep flinging at the
Bishop of Exeter as he does; Morpeth's was the best, brilliant
and effective. Peel said to him, when they were going out to
divide, 'I can appreciate a good speech when made against me as
well as when it is for me, and I must tell you that yours was the
best speech of the debate.' This was becoming and judicious, and
such courtesies soften the asperities of Parliamentary warfare.
The Government had much the best of the argument, and the Tories
contrived to afford them a triumph upon the Appropriation Clause,
and at the same time enabled them to shake it off (onerous and
inconvenient as it was) without further difficulty. There was
some ingenuity in doing this. I cannot help thinking Peel likes
to see his party defeated in this way. The Government think it
has been a very great thing for them, and no doubt it has done
them service. Peel's speech at the banquet was somewhat didactic,
and too much in the style of a political sermon; but it was very
good, full of excellent sense, couched in excellent language, but
it may be doubted if his moderation was palatable to the majority
of his hearers.[2]
[2] [A banquet was given to Sir R. Peel on the 12th of May,
in Merchant Taylors' Hall, by 300 Conservative members
of the House of Commons.]
May 23rd, 1838 {p.094}
[Page Head: DEATH OF TALLEYRAND.]
Talleyrand is dead. He died after a short illness some day last
week. It would require a nice discrimination of character and
intimate knowledge of the man to delineate his, a great deal more
of both than I possess, therefore I shall not attempt it. During
the period of his embassy in England I lived a good deal with
him, his house being always open to me, and I dined there _en
famille_ whenever I pleased. Nothing could be more hospitable,
nothing more urbane and kind than he was; and it was fine to see,
after his stormy youth and middle age, after a life spent in the
very tempest and whirlwind of political agitation, how tranquilly
and honourably his declining years ebbed away. Still retaining
his faculties unimpaired, and his memory stored with the
recollections of his extraordinary and eventful career, and an
inexhaustible mine of anecdotes, his delight was to narrate,
which he used to do with an abundance, a vivacity, and a
_finesse_ peculiar to himself, and to the highest degree
interesting and attractive. No name was once held in greater
detestation in England than that of Talleyrand. He was looked
upon universally as a sink of moral and political profligacy.
Born at the end of Louis XV.'s reign, and bred up in the social
pleasures and corruptions of that polite but vicious aristocracy,
he was distinguished in his early youth for his successful
gallantries, for the influence he obtained over women, and the
dexterity with which he converted it to his advancement. A
debauched abbé and bishop, one of the champions and then one of
the victims of the Revolution, afterwards (having scrambled
through the perilous period of Terrorism) discarding his clerical
character, he became the Minister of the Consulate and the
Empire, and was looked upon all over Europe as a man of
consummate ability, but totally destitute of principle in public
or in private life. Disgraced by Napoleon, he reappeared after
his fall, and was greatly concerned in the restoration of the
Bourbons. For a short time only employed, but always treated by
them with consideration and respect, the Revolution of July again
brought Talleyrand prominently on the stage, and, to the surprise
of all men, he accepted the embassy to London. The years he
passed here were probably the most peaceful of his life, and they
served to create for him a reputation altogether new, and such as
to cancel all former recollections. His age was venerable, his
society was delightful, and there was an exhibition of
conservative wisdom, 'of moderate and healing counsels,' in all
his thoughts, words, and actions very becoming to his age and
station, vastly influential from his sagacity and experience, and
which presented him to the eyes of men as a statesman like
Burleigh or Clarendon for prudence, temperance, and discretion.
Here therefore he acquired golden opinions, and was regarded by
all ranks and all parties with respect, and by many with sincere
regard. When he was attacked in the House of Lords the Duke of
Wellington rose in his defence, and rebuked the acrimony of his
own friends. Talleyrand was deeply affected at this behaviour of
the Duke. I regret much not having availed myself of the
opportunities I might have had to listen to and record the talk
of Talleyrand, but the fact is, he was so inarticulate, and I so
deaf, that the labour would have been greater than I could go
through for the object. The account which my brother has sent me
of the circumstances which preceded his death, and of his
reconciliation with the Church, are very curious.[3] He had
always desired to die at Valençay, in order to avoid the scandal
which he apprehended there might be in Paris from the severity of
the Archbishop, but it was contrived to get everything quietly
and decently settled, and he died in peace with the Church, and
with all the absolutions and benedictions that she could have
bestowed upon the most faithful of her sons.
[3] [These particulars are now published in the 'Leaves
from the Journals of Henry Greville,' selected by his
niece, the Viscountess Enfield.]
May 27th, 1838 {p.096}
[Page Head: CHARACTER OF LADY HARROWBY.]
Yesterday, at two o'clock, died, after a week's illness, of a low
bilious fever, Lady Harrowby,[4] the oldest and most intimate of
my friends, and the woman in the world for whom I had the
greatest respect and regard. My intercourse with her had been
much diminished for many years past; such changes take place in
our social habits without any cause except those which the lapse
of time, different pursuits, ties, and habits, bring about. There
is a melancholy satisfaction in dwelling upon the noble qualities
which death has extinguished, and the excellence of Lady Harrowby
demands a brief tribute of affection and admiration from those
who, having best known her virtues, have the greatest reason to
deplore, and are best able to appreciate, her loss. She had a
mind of masculine strength united with a heart of feminine
softness; for while she was resolute and determined, and had
firmness and courage to bear up against the heaviest afflictions,
she had no coldness or insensibility in her temperament, but was
endowed with the tenderest and warmest affections. She was not by
nature imaginative, but her understanding was excellent and
utterly devoid of lumber and affectation. She had the sound
practical sense of a vigorous and healthy mind, without a
particle of vanity or conceit; she never attempted to plunge out
of her depth, or to soar beyond the level of her comprehension
and her knowledge. Her conversation therefore was happily
described by an old and attached friend and very competent judge,
when he said of it that 'her talk was so _crisp._'[5] She had an
even flow of animal spirits, was never capricious or uncertain,
full of vivacity, with a constant but temperate enjoyment of
society; never fastidious or exclusive, tasting and appreciating
excellence without despising or slighting mediocrity; attentive,
affable, and obliging to all, and equally delighting all, because
her agreeableness was inseparable from her character, and was an
habitual and unceasing emanation from it, rather than the
exertion of a latent power only drawn forth by the attraction of
corresponding intellectual energies; perfectly natural both in
manner and character, honest, straightforward, sincere, and true,
but with a genuine benevolence which made her sensitively shrink
from the infliction of pain. Delivered altogether from 'envy,
hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness,' she was ever inclined
to extenuate the faults, to pardon the errors, and to put the
best construction on the motives of others; no mean jealousy ever
entered her mind, no repining at the prosperity, however
unmerited, of other people. She drew pleasure from the purest of
all sources, from the contemplation of the success, the
happiness, and the welfare of her friends and acquaintance. With
an exquisite tact, without the slightest appearance of art, frank
without severity, open without imprudence, always negligent of
self and considerate of others, all her thoughts, impulses, and
actions were regulated by the united influence of the highest
principles, the clearest judgement, and the kindliest feelings.
Thus blessed in her own happy disposition, she was a blessing to
all around her. She was the ornament and delight of society, the
comfort, support, and joy of her own family. The numerous friends
who admired and esteemed her will sincerely deplore her loss; the
world, in which she never made an enemy, will render its tribute
of justice to her merit in a transient but general expression of
regret; but to the grief of her children, the bitterness of which
time alone can assuage, time itself can afford but an imperfect
consolation, for so entirely was she associated with the
interests, the habits, and the pursuits of their existence, that
every passing day and hour will bring something to remind them of
the loss they have sustained. But although it has not been
permitted to them to see her days extended to the ordinary term
of human life, and to be engaged in the tender office of 'rocking
the cradle of her declining age,' for herself it is no unhappy or
unenviable lot to have closed a useful, an honourable, and a
prosperous career in the unimpaired possession of her faculties,
without mental disquietude or bodily pain, and surrounded by all
the dearest objects of her interest and her love.
[4] [Susan, Countess of Harrowby, daughter of Granville,
first Marquis of Stafford, and wife of Dudley Ryder,
first Earl of Harrowby, died the 26th of May, 1838.]
[5] Mr. Luttrell.
June 1st, 1838 {p.097}
Nothing has happened of any importance during the last week but
the defeat of Government upon the Slave question (Sir E. Wilmot's
motion for immediate emancipation), on Tuesday last, and this
happened by an accident. Nobody expected an early division, and
people were scattered all over the town. Ben Stanley[6] was
dining at the Hollands'. In the meantime Lord Stanley persuaded
Rice that it was better to have no debate, and that it was
neither necessary nor desirable that they should speak. Rice
acquiesced, and so they went to a division, but unfortunately
before a sufficient number of their people had arrived. It was
embarrassing, but Lord John Russell has taken measures to set the
matter right before the West Indian mail goes out. The
Abolitionists, however, are determined to do as much mischief as
they can, and though they know perfectly well that Government
(and Parliament, for the Tories are in the same intention) are
resolved not to consent to alter the law, and that the Bill for
protecting the apprentices is gone out, they are resolved to
agitate as violently as they can, and, if possible, to stir up
the negroes to insurrection. These men of peace would prefer a
violent commotion in the West Indies, attended with every sort of
mischief to the slaves as well as to the planters, rather than
abandon their own schemes and notions, in which there is much
more of vanity and the love of meddling than of benevolence and
charity. The whole conduct of Sir Eardley Wilmot, who is only the
organ of a party, proves this; for, though well aware he could
take no advantage of his resolution, and that if nothing was done
to correct the effect of it, a great deal of excitement would be
produced in the colony, he nevertheless tried to shirk the
question when asked by John Russell to say distinctly what he
meant to do, and showed that his only object was to create a
difficulty, whatever might be the consequences, and to exhibit
himself to the country as the successful asserter of a principle.
[6] [The Right Hon. Edward John Stanley, afterwards second
Lord Stanley of Alderley, then Secretary of the
Treasury. He was familiarly called 'Ben' Stanley by his
friends.]
[Page Head: LORD BROUGHAM AND MR. HANDLEY.]
On Friday, at Exeter Hall, while engaged in the same cause,
Brougham got a severe rap on the knuckles from Mr. Handley--one
of those rebuffs to which, with all his talents, he exposes
himself, from his tricks and his violence, and, above all, his
want of truth. Brougham made a speech, in which he belaboured the
Ministry generally, and many of them by name, with his usual
acrimony. Handley, who had a resolution to move, said he
regretted to see the chairman prostitute the cause for which they
were assembled by making it the vehicle of abuse of the
Government, and thus venting his spite, disappointed ambition,
and mortified vanity; on which Brougham rose in a great rage, and
said he did not know who the gentleman was who, coming at the
eleventh hour, attacked him, who had been a labourer in the cause
for thirty years; to which the other retorted that he did not
know what he meant by his coming at the eleventh hour, that he
had been for many years in Parliament, and had voted against the
grant of twenty millions, and for immediate emancipation, in
opposition to the apprenticeship system, both of which Brougham
had been a party to proposing.
I dined yesterday at Lambeth, at the Archbishop's public dinner,
the handsomest entertainment I ever saw. There were nearly a
hundred people present, all full-dressed or in uniform. Nothing
can be more dignified and splendid than the whole arrangement,
and the dinner was well served and very good. The Archbishop is a
very meek and quiet man, not dignified, but very civil and
attentive. It is excessively well worth seeing.[7]
[7] [These archiepiscopal dinners were public: anyone could
go who thought proper to put down his name, which, of
course, nobody did without some claim to be there. The
practice ended with Archbishop Howley.]
On Friday night the Bishop of Norwich (Stanley) stood up and
fought the Bishop of Exeter, in the House of Lords, with great
success, upon the Irish education question.
June 3rd, 1838 {p.100}
[Page Head: IRISH CORPORATIONS.]
On Tuesday last all was harmony in the House of Commons. Peel
made a speech, in which he announced his disposition to come to a
compromise, and settle all the Irish questions. Lord John
answered in a corresponding strain of conciliation, and it was
generally understood that everything should be quietly settled,
not, however, to the satisfaction of the Tory tail, much growling
being heard, both in the newspapers and among the low retainers
of the party. (Stanley told somebody, who told me, that he
thought this the best speech he ever heard Peel make.) But on
Friday night this serene sky was overcast with clouds, and all is
thrown into doubt and difficulty again. They are quarrelling
about the qualification, and angry words were bandied about.[8]
O'Connell and Sheil were abusive, though Peel and Lord John both
kept their tempers. It is supposed that the Tory party have been
so urgent, that Peel is obliged to take up this ground. When they
have gone so far towards a settlement, it is probable that some
mode will be hit upon for arranging the difficulty. The mob of
Tories would be rejoiced to see everything fall to the ground.
'Thank God,' said one the other night, after the renewal of
hostilities, 'there is an end of compromise.' I am disposed on
the whole (but very imperfectly informed) to think that John
Russell is right and Peel wrong, and that the former has made all
the concessions that ought to be required of him and that he can
afford to make.
[8] [The measure before the House was the Irish Municipal
Corporation Bill.]
June 7th, 1838 {p.101}
Walked with Mulgrave[9] (whom I met at Brooks's), and asked him
to tell me candidly who was in the right about the qualification,
John Russell or Peel? He said, 'talking openly to you, I don't
mind saying both are a little in the wrong; but the fact is, the
other party do not know what would be the practical effect of the
qualification they require, and when that is made clear to them,
in Dublin particularly' (and he mentioned some numbers and
details I don't exactly recollect), 'I think they will see the
necessity of altering their opinions.' He then talked of the
political effect of settling these questions as clearing away the
obstacles which now stand in Peel's way, and said he thought it
would eventually end in some sort of amalgamation of parties.
This I was surprised to hear from him, and told him that it
appeared to me quite impossible. But it is clear enough that it
is the intention of the Government, at all events, to settle the
questions, and if the Opposition will not give way, they will.
They are quite right, for it is a great thing to get the
principle admitted and to have corporations established; and if
upon trial it is found that there is an undue preponderance cast
into either scale, it will be good ground for proposing an
alteration of the law.
[9] [Lord Mulgrave, afterwards Marquis of Normanby, was at
this time Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.]
June 16th, 1838 {p.101}
At Hillingdon, for Ascot races, from Tuesday to Friday. A great
concourse of people on Thursday; the Queen tolerably received;
some shouting, not a great deal, and few hats taken off. This
mark of respect has quite gone out of use, and neither her
station nor her sex procures it; we are not the nearer a
revolution for this, but it is ugly. All the world went on to the
Royal Stand, and Her Majesty was very gracious and civil,
speaking to everybody.
June 21st, 1838 {p.101}
O'Connell has declined the Irish Rolls (Mastership of the Rolls).
He says that it has been the object of his ambition all his life,
but that at this moment he cannot accept it; that the moderate
course which the Government is pursuing (the abandonment of the
Appropriation Clauses &c.) and his support of that course have
already given great umbrage to the violent party in Ireland, and
his acceptance of office would be considered as the result of a
bargain by which he had bartered the principles he has always
maintained in order to obtain this place; that his influence
would be entirely lost; a ferment produced in Ireland which he
would be unable to suppress, and the Government would be placed
in great difficulty. He therefore thinks himself bound to refuse
the Rolls, and to continue to exert his influence to keep matters
quiet, and enable the Government to accomplish the settlement of
the pending questions, hoping that at some future time an
opportunity may occur of raising him to the Bench, of which he
may be able to avail himself. Lord Tavistock, who told me this,
says no one could behave better than he has done about it, and he
gives him credit (as the whole party do) for sincerity and purity
of motive. Taking his recent conduct generally in connexion, with
this refusal, I am disposed to believe that his motives are good,
and that he is really desirous of aiding in the compromise which
is about to take place, and promoting the great work of Irish
pacification, not probably without some personal views and
objects; and if the present Government remains in, his present
act of self-denial will be 'reculer pour mieux sauter,' and find
its reward in the Chief Justiceship whenever Lord Chief Justice
Bush retires, of which there is already a question.
The debate in the House of Lords the night before last, on
Londonderry's Spanish motion, elicited from Lord Minto a curious
fact (that is, the fact was asserted and not denied) that orders
had been sent from hence to our ships of war to prevent by force
any aid being given to Don Carlos by the ships of other nations,
and that a Sardinian frigate had actually been forcibly
prevented. It has made a great sensation here among the
diplomatists.
Another thing much talked of is the speech which Lord Anglesey
made at the Waterloo dinner when he gave the Duke's health. He
said that
'it was superfluous to talk of his military achievements,
but that he must express his admiration of his conduct in
civil matters, especially in the House of Lords during
the present session, when he had shown how superior he
was to all party considerations and purposes, and when he
had given his support to a Government in which it was
well known he placed no confidence, because he thought
that the national honour and interest required that they
should be supported.'
Of course, a speech reported at second or third hand is not very
correctly given, but this was the gist of it, extremely well done
by all accounts, not perhaps palatable to all who heard him, but
which gave great pleasure to the Duke himself. Anglesey said that
the Duke, when he sat down, squeezed his hand hard and long, and
said to him, 'I cannot tell you what pleasure you have given me.'
The Queen sent the Duke a gracious message, desiring he would
bring the whole of his party to her ball, which gratified him
very much, and he wrote a very grateful and respectful answer.
The French were exceedingly annoyed at the ball being given on
that particular night (the 18th), and begged to be excused from
attending, not angrily however. It was unfortunate that this day
was chosen for the ball, but it was accidental, and not intended
as a celebration.
[Page Head: MARSHAL SOULT IN LONDON.]
Soult arrived yesterday.[10] Croker meets him with an offensive
article in the 'Quarterly,' brought out on purpose, and emanating
from his spiteful and malignant temper, just the reverse of the
Duke, who has made Gurwood keep back the eleventh volume of the
Despatches, in which the battle of Toulouse appears, because some
of the details are calculated to be annoying to Soult--a piece of
delicacy which is very becoming. It is a sad thing to see how the
Duke is altered in appearance, and what a stride old age has made
upon him. He is much deafer than he was, he is whiter, his head
is bent, his shoulders are raised, and there are muscular
twitches in his face, not altogether new, but of a more marked
character.
[10] [The preparations for the Coronation of Her Majesty
Queen Victoria, were now actively going on. Marshal
Soult arrived in London as the Ambassador Extraordinary
of the King of the French, and was received with the
highest distinction and respect, to which Mr. Croker's
article in the 'Quarterly Review' on the battle of
Toulouse was the solitary and disgraceful exception.]
June 24th, 1838 {p.104}
Lord Anglesey gave me his speech at the Waterloo dinner to read,
and very good it is.[11] I wanted him to let me send it to the
'Times,' and he told me I might do as I liked. I resolved to
consult Tavistock, who was (on the whole) against publishing, for
fear it should be displeasing to the Duke, so I give up the idea.
What he said about the Duke was this, after alluding to his
military glory &c.:--
'But there is a subject on which I wish to say a word,
and it shall be only a word. I allude to the noble, the
generous, the disinterested, the truly patriotic conduct
of the noble Duke in his Parliamentary course. At the
opening of the session the country was involved in
difficulty, and under very considerable embarrassment;
the spirit of faction had crossed the Atlantic; the demon
of discord was abroad; one of the most favoured and
interesting of our colonies was in revolt. The noble Duke
saw this, and seemed at once to decide that it would
require all the energies of the mother country to crush
the Hydra at its birth. Accordingly, when any measure was
brought forward tending to support the dignity, to uphold
the honour, and to secure the integrity of the empire,
the noble Duke invariably came forward and nobly
supported those measures. But the noble Duke did not stop
there: spurning the miserable practices of party spirit,
he upon many occasions offered his sage and solid counsel
to a Government which he had not been in the habit of
supporting. Gentlemen, I declare to you that this conduct
has made a deep impression on me. It appears to me that
this is the true character and conduct of a real patriot;
such conduct is, in my estimation, beyond all praise.'
[11] The impression which Lord Anglesey's speech made was
not such as his own report of it was calculated to
make. A word makes a difference, and he was supposed to
have said that the Duke had 'separated' himself from
faction, which implied censure on others and made it a
_political speech_, and though Anglesey says the Duke
was so pleased, Gurwood told me that in reply he merely
said 'He believed every man present would have done, in
his place, what he had done,' and he afterwards asked
Gurwood if he had said anything in his reply that could
_annoy_ Lord Anglesey, which looks as if he was not so
highly pleased as the former supposed him to be.
Gurwood said, 'We were all on thorns when he talked of
faction, and the Duke replied, "Poor man, he was
suffering very much, and he is not used to public
speaking, so that he did not know what he was saying."'
If Anglesey could hear this!
June 27th, 1838 {p.105}
[Page Head: PREPARATIONS FOR THE CORONATION.]
There never was anything seen like the state of this town; it is
as if the population had been on a sudden quintupled; the uproar,
the confusion, the crowd, the noise, are indescribable. Horsemen,
footmen, carriages squeezed, jammed, intermingled, the pavement
blocked up with timbers, hammering and knocking, and falling
fragments stunning the ears and threatening the head; not a mob
here and there, but the town all mob, thronging, bustling,
gaping, and gazing at everything, at anything, or at nothing; the
park one vast encampment, with banners floating on the tops of
the tents, and still the roads are covered, the railroads loaded
with arriving multitudes. From one end of the route of the Royal
procession to the other, from the top of Piccadilly to
Westminster Abbey, there is a vast line of scaffolding; the
noise, the movement, the restlessness are incessant and
universal; in short, it is very curious, but uncommonly tiresome,
and the sooner it is over the better. There has been a grand
bother about the Ambassadors forming part of the Royal
Procession. They all detest it, think they ought not to have been
called upon to assist, and the poor representatives of the
smaller Courts do not at all fancy the expense of fine equipages,
or the mortification of exhibiting mean ones. This arrangement
was matter of negotiation for several days, and (the Lord knows
why) the Government pertinaciously insisted on it. Public opinion
has declared against it, and now they begin to see that they have
done a very foolish thing, odious to the Corps Diplomatique and
unpleasing to the people.
The Duke and Soult have met here with great mutual civilities,
and it is very generally known that the former did everything he
could to stop the appearance of Croker's article. Gurwood told me
that he begged the Duke to write to Croker and request he would
keep it back. The Duke said, 'I will write because you wish it,
but I tell you that he won't do it. When a man's vanity or his
interest is concerned he minds nobody, and _he_ thinks himself a
cleverer fellow than anybody.' The Duke knew his man, for he
flatly refused, and intimated that though the Duke might be a
better judge of military matters, he (Croker) was the best of
literary.
A great squabble is going on about the Wellington memorial,[12]
in which I have so far been concerned that Lord Tavistock got me
to write the requisition to the Duke of Rutland to call another
meeting of the committee, to reconsider the question of the
selection of the artist. It is a gross job of Sir Frederic
Trench's, and has been so from the beginning, the Duke being a
mere cat's-paw of that impudent Irish pretender. The Duke of
Wellington himself thinks it a great job, and would be very glad
to see it defeated; but he said that 'his lips were sealed, he
could take no part, the Duke of Rutland had been so personally
kind to him, but that it was the damnedest job from the
beginning.'
[12] [This refers to the subscription for a memorial to the
Duke of Wellington, which led eventually to the strange
erection of the equestrian statue of the Duke, placed
_upon_ the arch at the top of Constitution Hill and in
front of Apsley House. Sir Frederic Trench took an
active part in the promotion of the affair, in the
selection of Wyatt for the artist, and finally in the
placing of the statue, which appeared to most people
who knew all the facts at the time, to be a scandalous
job and an enormous absurdity. In the year 1883 the
arch was moved from its former position and the statue
taken down, to be transported to the camp at Aldershot
and erected there.]
June 29th, 1838 {p.106}
[Page Head: THE CORONATION.]
The Coronation (which, thank God, is over) went off very well.
The day was fine, without heat or rain--the innumerable multitude
which thronged the streets orderly and satisfied. The appearance
of the Abbey was beautiful, particularly the benches of the
Peeresses, who were blazing with diamonds. The entry of Soult was
striking. He was saluted with a murmur of curiosity and applause
as he passed through the nave, and nearly the same, as he
advanced along the choir. His appearance is that of a veteran
warrior, and he walked alone, with his numerous suite following
at a respectful distance, preceded by heralds and ushers, who
received him with marked attention, more certainly than any of
the other Ambassadors. The Queen looked very diminutive, and the
effect of the procession itself was spoilt by being too crowded;
there was not interval enough between the Queen and the Lords and
others going before her. The Bishop of London (Blomfield)
preached a very good sermon. The different actors in the
ceremonial were very imperfect in their parts, and had neglected
to rehearse them. Lord John Thynne, who officiated for the Dean
of Westminster, told me that nobody knew what was to be done
except the Archbishop and himself (who had rehearsed), Lord
Willoughby (who is experienced in these matters), and the Duke of
Wellington, and consequently there was a continual difficulty and
embarrassment, and the Queen never knew what she was to do next.
They made her leave her chair and enter into St. Edward's Chapel
before the prayers were concluded, much to the discomfiture of
the Archbishop. She said to John Thynne, 'Pray tell me what I am
to do, for they don't know;' and at the end, when the orb was put
into her hand, she said to him, 'What am I to do with it?' 'Your
Majesty is to carry it, if you please, in your hand.' 'Am I?' she
said; 'it is very heavy.' The ruby ring was made for her little
finger instead of the fourth, on which the rubric prescribes that
it should be put. When the Archbishop was to put it on, she
extended the former, but he said it must be on the latter. She
said it was too small, and she could not get it on. He said it
was right to put it there, and, as he insisted, she yielded, but
had first to take off her other rings, and then this was forced
on, but it hurt her very much, and as soon as the ceremony was
over she was obliged to bathe her finger in iced water in order
to get it off. The noise and confusion were very great when the
medals were thrown about by Lord Surrey, everybody scrambling
with all their might and main to get them, and none more
vigorously than the Maids of Honour. There was a great
demonstration of applause when the Duke of Wellington did homage.
Lord Rolle, who is between eighty and ninety, fell down as he was
getting up the steps of the throne. Her first impulse was to
rise, and when afterwards he came again to do homage she said,
'May I not get up and meet him?' and then rose from the throne
and advanced down one or two of the steps to prevent his coming
up, an act of graciousness and kindness which made a great
sensation.[13] It is, in fact, the remarkable union of _naïveté_,
kindness, nature, good nature, with propriety and dignity, which
makes her so admirable and so endearing to those about her, as
she certainly is. I have been repeatedly told that they are all
warmly attached to her, but that all feel the impossibility of
for a moment losing sight of the respect which they owe her. She
never ceases to be a Queen, but is always the most charming,
cheerful, obliging, unaffected Queen in the world. The procession
was very handsome, and the Extraordinary Ambassadors produced
some gorgeous equipages. This sort of procession is incomparably
better than the old ceremonial which so much fuss was made about,
for the banquet would only have benefited the privileged few and
the rich, and for one person who would have witnessed the
procession on the platform five hundred enjoyed a sight of this.
In fact, the thing best worth seeing was the town itself, and the
countless multitudes through which the procession passed. The
Chancellor of the Exchequer told me that he had been informed
£200,000 had been paid for seats alone, and the number of people
who have flocked into London has been estimated at five hundred
thousand. It is said that a million have had a sight of the show
in one way or another. These numbers are possibly exaggerated,
but they really were prodigious. From Buckingham Palace to
Westminster Abbey, by the way they took, which must be two or
three miles in length, there was a dense mass of people; the
seats and benches were all full, every window was occupied, the
roofs of the houses were covered with spectators, for the most
part well dressed, and, from the great space through which they
were distributed, there was no extraordinary pressure, and
consequently no room for violence or ill-humour. In the evening I
met Prince Esterhazy, and asked him what the foreigners said. He
replied that they admired it all very much: 'Strogonoff and the
others don't like you, but they feel it, and it makes a great
impression on them; in fact, nothing can be seen like it in any
other country.' I went into the park, where the fair was going
on; a vast multitude, but all of the lower orders; not very
amusing. The great merit of this Coronation is, that so much has
been done for the people: to amuse and interest _them_ seems to
have been the principal object.
[13] She sent in the evening to inquire after Lord Rolle.
July 1st, 1838 {p.109}
[Page Head: COLERIDGE AND JOHN STERLING.]
This morning hit upon this stanza in Coleridge's 'Ode to
Tranquillity':--
'Who late and lingering seeks thy shrine
On him but seldom, power divine,
Thy spirit rests! Satiety
And sloth, poor counterfeits of thee,
Mock the tired worldling. Idle hope
And dire remembrance interlope
To vex the feverish slumbers of the mind:
The bubble floats before, the spectre stalks behind.'
My own thoughts about myself. Mr. Sterling, whom I met at dinner
the other day (son of Sterling, of the 'Times'[14]), said that
Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats were all greater poets
than Dryden, that they had all finer imaginations. He compared
'The Vision of Kubla Khan' to 'Lycidas' for harmony of
versification!!
[14] [This was Mr. John Sterling, whose life has been
written by Thomas Carlyle, and again by Julius Hare,
though it was a short and uneventful one. Few men left
a deeper mark upon his own contemporaries, not less by
the grace and purity of his character than by the
vigour of his intellect. It is hard to think that of so
bright a promise of life and thought so little remains
after him. Sterling was sometimes paradoxical, and he
worshipped Coleridge, which may account for the
incident related in the text.]
July 3rd, 1838 {p.109}
I was at the ball at Court last night to which hundreds would
have given hundreds to go, and from which I would have gladly
stayed away: all was very brilliant and very tiresome.
July 4th, 1838 {p.109}
A great exposure of Durham in the House of Lords on Monday
night,[15] Brougham chuckling over it yesterday morning. The
impression left by Melbourne's speech was, that Durham had
actually assured him he had no intention of appointing Turton,
and it was either so, or Melbourne had desired him not to do so,
and he went off without sending any answer. The former discussion
about Turton took place while Durham was at Portsmouth.
Everything blows over, so probably this will, but it is
calculated to produce a very bad effect both here and in Canada,
and to deprive Durham of all the weight which would attach to him
from the notion of his being trusted and trustworthy; besides,
the bitter mortification to his pride (by receiving this rap on
the knuckles at the outset of his career) will sour his temper
and impair his judgement. Brougham says that if he finds his
difficulties great and his position disagreeable, he will avail
himself of Melbourne's speech and resign. It is universally
thought that he must send Turton home whatever he may do himself.
[15] [Lord Durham took with him to Canada, on his staff,
besides Mr. Charles Buller (an unexceptionable
appointment), Mr. Turton, of the Calcutta Bar, and Mr.
Edward Gibbon Wakefield, gentlemen against whose
private character much had been not unjustly said. Some
of these appointments were strongly objected to in
Parliament.]
July 8th, 1838 {p.110}
Lord Duncannon told me yesterday that Melbourne went to Lord
Durham when he heard he was going to take out Turton, and told
him that the odium of such an appointment would be so great that
it was impossible he could consent to it, and it must not take
place. Durham sulked over it for two days, but finally
acquiesced, and engaged that Turton should only go out as his
private friend. Duncannon added that Durham was much mistaken if
he thought Melbourne would endure this disobedience and breach of
engagement. Durham had made his entry into Quebec on a white
long-tailed charger, in a full general's uniform, surrounded by
his staff, and the first thing he did was to appoint Sir John
Doratt (his doctor, whom he had got knighted before he went)
Inspector-General of Hospitals, superseding all the people there.
July 14th, 1838 {p.110}
[Page Head: THE NAVAL INSTRUCTIONS.]
At Newmarket all this past week. Nothing of consequence occurred
here except the debate in the House of Lords upon Brougham's
motion for the production of naval instructions about Sardinian
ships, which was only lost by the numbers being equal. The Duke
of Wellington, according to his custom, refused to be factious,
and when Melbourne said that it would be highly inconvenient to
produce any instructions, he declared against the motion and left
the House. Brougham was furious, and many of the high Tories
greatly provoked. Brougham said, 'Westminster Abbey is yawning
for him.' Ellenborough, Mansfield, and Harewood stayed and voted,
Aberdeen went away. After all their fury, however, the Tories are
beginning (as I was told last night) to come to their senses. The
Duke was quite in the right; there is no doubt that some very
unwise and improper instructions have issued from the Admiralty,
and their purport has got abroad by the indiscretion of somebody,
but we only know, or rather suspect from public rumour, that such
is the case; they have never been acted upon if they do exist; no
overt act has been done, and the production of this document
might be attended with very seriously inconvenient consequences.
Brougham cares for nothing but the pleasure of worrying and
embarrassing the Ministers, whom he detests with an intense
hatred; and the Tories, who are bitter and spiteful, and hate
them merely as Ministers and as occupants of the places they
covet, and not as men, are provoked to death at being baulked in
the occasion that seemed to present itself of putting them into a
difficulty. The Duke, whose thoughts are steadily directed to the
public good, and to that alone, will lend himself to no such
vexatious purposes; he looks at the position of the Government in
relation with foreign powers, and deals with it as a national and
not as a party question. It is in this spirit that he constantly
and inflexibly acts, though not failing to give Ministers a
pretty sharp lecture every now and then. His forbearance has
annoyed his own supporters to such a degree that they keep up a
continual under-growl, and are always lamenting the decay of his
faculties, and if they dared and knew how, they would gladly
substitute some other leader for him. The 'ardor prava jubentium'
has, however, no effect whatever on him: it neither ruffles his
serenity nor shakes his purpose. The Whigs laud him to the skies,
which provokes the Tories all the more, nor does their praise
spring in all probability from a purer or more unselfish source
than the complaints of their adversaries, for they are more
rejoiced at finding so often this plank of safety than struck
with admiration at his magnanimity. Wise, moderate, and impartial
men of all parties view the Duke's conduct in its true light, and
render him that justice the full measure of which it is reserved
for history and posterity to pay. No greater contrast can be
displayed than between the minds of the Duke of Wellington and
Brougham. It is a curious and an interesting study to examine and
compare their powers, faculties, attainments, the moral and
intellectual constitutions of the men, their respective careers,
their results, and the judgement of the world upon them.
Yesterday morning I met Macaulay,[16] and walked with him for
some time. He talked of the necessity of a coalition between the
Parliamentary leaders, which might be effected, provided they
would lay aside personal feelings and jealousies; that Lyndhurst
might be the greatest obstacle; he thought a strong Government
ought to be formed, one that should not live as this does from
hand to mouth, and by no means but by a coalition could this be
effected. The Radicals, he said, were clearly extinct, being
reduced, as far as he could learn, 'to Grote and his wife;' that
he had not been prepared for the tranquillity and contentment
that he found on his return to England; that he was as great a
Radical as anybody, that is, that if ever the voice of the nation
should be as clearly and universally pronounced for reform of the
House of Lords, or any other great change, as it had been for the
Reform Bill, he should be for it too, but that now he did not
think it worth while to give such projects a thought, and it no
more occurred to him to entertain them in this country than it
would to advocate the establishment of a representative
government in Turkey, or a monarchy and hereditary peerage in
America. I told him that I did not see how a coalition was
feasible, or how conflicting pretensions could be adjusted. He
said it seemed to be a matter of course that Peel must lead the
House of Commons. I said that the other alternative the
Government had was to get rid of some of its lumber, and take in
him, Morpeth, and Sir George Grey, and so present a more
respectable front--to which he said nothing.
[16] [Mr. Macaulay returned to England from his official
residence in India, in June 1838.]
[Page Head: THE RECEPTION OF MARSHAL SOULT.]
It is really curious to see the manner in which Soult has been
received here, not only with every sort of attention and respect
by persons in the most respectable ranks in life, members of all
the great trading and commercial bodies, but with enthusiasm by
the common people; they flock about him, cheer him vociferously,
and at the review in the park he was obliged to abandon both his
hands to be shaken by those around him. The old soldier is
touched to the quick at this generous reception, and has given
utterance to his gratitude and his sensibility on several
occasions in very apt terms. It is creditable to John Bull, but I
am at a loss to understand why he is so desperately fond of
Soult; but Johnny is a gentleman who generally does things in
excess, and seldom anything by halves. In the present instance it
is a very good thing, and must be taken as a national compliment
and as evidence of national goodwill towards France, which cannot
fail to make a corresponding impression in that country. But the
French will not meet us cordially and frankly and with an equally
amicable spirit; they are not such good fellows as the English;
they have more vanity and jealousy, and are not so hearty; still
it will not be without effect.
July 18th, 1838 {p.113}
[Page Head: CLAIM OF THE DUKE OF SUSSEX.]
The Duke of Sussex has quarrelled with the Government on account
of their refusal to apply to Parliament for an increased
allowance, and his partisans are very angry with Melbourne, and
talk of withdrawing their support. The Duke began by requesting
Melbourne to bring the matter before the Cabinet, which he did,
and the result was that they informed his Royal Highness it could
not be done. He was very angry, and the rest of the Royal family
(glad to make bad blood between him and the Whigs) fomented his
discontent. The Duke of Cambridge went to Melbourne and begged
that he might not stand in the way of his brother's wishes, from
its being supposed that if they were complied with, his own
claims could likewise be urged. The Duke, finding he could do
nothing with the Government, determined to do what he could for
himself, and began to canvass and exert all the influence he
possessed among Members of Parliament, and (as he thought) with
such success, that he counted upon 250 votes in his favour. He
then employed Mr. Gillon to move the matter in the House of
Commons, having previously conveyed to Melbourne his intention to
do what he could for himself, but not making any communication to
Lord John Russell, and directing his confidants to conceal from
him what it was intended to do. Accordingly John Russell paid
very little attention to the motion of Mr. Gillon, which he saw
entered on the Order Book, and when it came on, he opposed it.
Peel pronounced a very warm eulogium upon John Russell's conduct,
and the motion was rejected by ninety to forty, the Duke's
anticipated supporters having dwindled away to that paltry
number. Bitter was his mortification and violent his resentment
at this result. He wrote an angry letter to John Russell, to
which John sent a temperate and respectful reply, but his Royal
Highness has since informed Melbourne that he shall withdraw his
support from the Government, and the Duke of Cleveland has
likewise given notice that the conduct of Government to the Duke
'makes the whole difference' in his disposition to support them.
The Duke's friends generally have expressed so much
dissatisfaction, that it is matter of considerable embarrassment
and annoyance to the Government, and if this was to be carried to
the length of opposition, or even neutrality, it might be
productive of serious consequences, weak as they are. But as this
session is about to close, means will probably be found of
pacifying them before the opening of the next. Much of the
mischief has arisen from the want of communication and
understanding between the parties. It seems strange that Lord
John Russell should have been ignorant of the Duke's intentions
when Melbourne had been apprised of them, and the latter ought to
have imparted to the former all he had learnt with regard to
them. Lord John Russell says that they seldom communicate except
with regard to matters which come before the Cabinet, and that if
he had learnt that Lord Radnor or any other peer was going to
make some such motion in the House of Lords, he should not have
thought of speaking to Melbourne about it, each managing his
matters in his own way in the House to which he belongs. But
though he makes this excuse for Melbourne, it was great _laches_
in the latter, after what had passed, not to tell Lord John what
was in preparation, when some communication with the Duke's
friends might have prevented the discussion. On the other hand,
it was very bad policy in the Duke not to be more open with the
leader of the House of Commons and to attempt to carry his object
by force. But he had buoyed himself up with the notion that his
popularity was so great that there would be a Parliamentary
demonstration in his favour sufficient to compel the Ministers to
yield, and he now sees how much he overrated it, and
miscalculated the support he fancied he had secured. What he
complains of with the greatest bitterness is the conduct of Lord
Howick in having asked Mr. Hawes to oppose this grant: 'that the
son of the man whose administration I made only a few years ago
should have canvassed others to oppose me is the deepest wound
that ever was inflicted on me.' He fancies (it seems) that _he
made_ Lord Grey's administration!
The Duke has some sort of claim, under all the circumstances.
When King William came to the throne, he told him he was anxious
to do what he could for him, and would therefore give him the
best thing at his disposal, the Rangership of Windsor Park,
£4,000 a year; but immediately after came Lord Grey's economical
reforms, which swept this away. The King then gave him Bushey;
but it was found necessary to settle a jointure house on the
Queen Dowager and Bushey was taken from him for this purpose. At
last they gave him the Rangership of Hyde Park, and he had
actually drawn for the first quarter's salary, when the salary
was done away with, so that he has been three times disappointed,
and he really is over head and ears in debt. It is now more
difficult than ever to do anything for him, because all parties
are committed, and there is a vote of the House of Commons
recorded against the grant. In his dudgeon, he talks of
withdrawing from politics, and of selling by public auction all
his personal property, library included.
July 23rd, 1838 {p.116}
I went the other night (Friday) to Burghersh's[17] opera at
Braham's theatre. A vast deal of fine company, and prodigious
applause; tolerable music, moderately sung, but a favourable
audience. When it was over they insisted upon his appearing, and,
after some delay, he thrust his head out from an obscure pit-box
in which he had been sitting and bowed and smiled; but this was
not enough, and they would have him on the stage; so a great
clapping and shouting went on, among the most vociferous being
the Duke of Wellington, who enjoyed the fun like a boy, laughing
and beckoning to Burghersh, and bawling 'Maestro! Maestro!' till
at last, vanquished by the enthusiasm of the audience and the
encouragement of his friends, he appeared at a corner of the
stage; then came a shower of bouquets, which were picked up by
Mrs. Bishop and the other women and presented to him, and so
ended the triumphant night.
[17] [John, Lord Burghersh, afterwards eleventh Earl of
Westmoreland, served in the army with distinction, and
afterwards in the diplomatic service of the Crown. He
was devotedly fond of music, and composed both for the
orchestra and the stage, not without success. He died
in 1859.]
July 24th, 1838 {p.116}
[Page Head: MR. HOOK'S SERMON.]
High Church has been recently reading lectures to Her Majesty the
Queen in the shape of two sermons preached at the Chapel Royal by
Mr. Perceval and Mr. Hook.[18] The Bishop of London was cognizant
of Mr. Perceval's intention, and he preached himself for several
Sundays, probably for the purpose of keeping him out of the
pulpit; but, the Bishop having had a fall from his horse and
broken his collar-bone, Mr. Perceval found his opportunity. The
Bishop, however, previously warned the Queen that she must expect
a very _strong_ sermon, which naturally excited her curiosity,
and when she heard it it did not appear to her so strong as she
had expected. The Bishop's advice or his own reflexion may have
induced Mr. Perceval to soften it. He made an attack upon Peel
(that is, upon somebody whom they concluded to be Peel),
reproaching him with sacrificing his conscience to political
objects in consenting to Catholic emancipation, not _totidem
verbis_, but in words to this effect. Hook's sermon appears to
have been the stronger of the two. He told the Queen that the
Church would endure let what would happen to the throne. On her
return to Buckingham House, Normanby, who had been at the chapel,
said to her, 'Did not your Majesty find it very hot?' She said,
'Yes, and the sermon was very hot too.'
[18] [Afterwards Dean of Chichester, and author of the
'Lives of the Archbishops.']
July 28th, 1838 {p.117}
The letters between Lord Palmerston and Mr. Urquhart which
appeared two days ago in the 'Times,' have made a very great
sensation, and thrown the friends of the former into great alarm.
Urquhart's letter is so enormously long, so overlaid with matter,
and so stuffed with acrimonious abuse, that it is difficult to
seize the points of it; but that to which general attention is
directed is the positive assertion of Lord Palmerston that he had
nothing to do with the 'Portfolio,' and the announcement of
Urquhart that in consequence of such denegation he will
demonstrate that Palmerston had everything to do with it. He is
said to make exceedingly light of it, and asserts that he can
clear himself of all the imputations Mr. Urquhart seeks to cast
upon him. He has, however, committed a great blunder in entering
into a paper war at all. In his letter he correctly lays down the
principle of the irresponsibility and omnipotence of a Secretary
of State in relation to his agents, and there he ought to have
stopped, and, acting on that principle, have declined any
controversy; but he entered into it, and descended from his
pedestal; and, though his letter is clever and well written,
there are some very weak points in it, and some things which
incline one to doubt his veracity. Who, for example, can believe
that when Strangways[19] gave him a letter from Urquhart
containing (as he informed him) a statement of his conduct, which
conduct he thought so reprehensible that he had desired
Strangways to admonish and caution him, he should have put this
letter in his pocket, and not even have broken the seal till a
long time after? The Government people are evidently in great
consternation, and it is very remarkable that not a line of
contradiction has appeared in any of Palmerston's papers. No less
than three men (Labouchere, Morpeth, and Le Marchant) spoke to me
about it yesterday, full of doubt and anxiety, and very curious
to know 'what people said.'
[19] [The Hon. William Strangways, afterwards Earl of
Ilchester, was at this time Under-Secretary of State
for Foreign Affairs. Mr. Strangways was an old and
intimate friend of Prince Adam Czartoryski, by whom the
papers were brought to England which afterwards
appeared in the 'Portfolio,' and it was through this
Polish connexion that Mr. Urquhart was introduced to
the notice of the Under-Secretary. Lord Palmerston was
at that time (about 1834) strongly anti-Russian, and
was perfectly cognizant of several undertakings which
originated with Prince Adam Czartoryski, and his more
energetic nephew, Count Ladislas Zamoyski, who had very
much the ear of the English Government at that time.
These undertakings were the publication of the
'Portfolio,' Mr. George Bell's expedition to the coast
of Circassia in the 'Vixen,' which was seized there,
and the attempt to establish a Consulate in the then
Free-Town of Cracow. But after having encouraged and
promoted these objects for some time in conjunction
with Mr. Strangways, Lord Palmerston suddenly became
violently opposed to them, and disclaimed all knowledge
of those whom he had employed. See _infra_, January
30th, 1839.]
[Page Head: MR. URQUHART AND LORD PALMERSTON.]
Le Marchant told me that Palmerston was a strange mixture of
caution and imprudence; that as long as he did not commit himself
_on paper_ he thought himself safe; that he would see any
newspaper editor who called on him, and often communicate to such
persons matters of great delicacy; yet, at the very time he would
do this, he demurred to a request that was made to him to
communicate freely with him (Le Marchant) and Drummond, who were
managing the press on the part of Government; and this reserve
was exercised towards him when he was Brougham's private
secretary, cognisant of all that Brougham knew (which, of course,
was everything), and frequently employed to communicate verbally
between the Chancellor and his colleagues on the most
confidential matters.
The history of Urquhart is this: William IV. was nearly mad upon
the subject of Russia, and Sir Herbert Taylor[20] either partook
of his opinions or ministered to his prejudices. Urquhart, who
had been in the East, published a violent anti-Russian pamphlet,
which made some noise and which recommended him to the notice of
Taylor, and through him to that of the King. His Majesty took up
Urquhart, and recommended him to Palmerston. Palmerston was not
sorry to have an opportunity of gratifying the King, with whom
the Ministers were never on cordial terms, and probably he was
not _then_ disinclined to act (as far as he dared) upon
Urquhart's views. Accordingly he appointed him--a very
extraordinary appointment it was thought at the time--Secretary
of Embassy at Constantinople. There can be no doubt that Urquhart
considered himself appointed to that station on account of the
opinions he professed, and for the express purpose of giving them
effect. He was very likely told so by the King, and left to infer
as much by Palmerston. The letter of Strangways, which has
appeared in the course of the correspondence, shows that the
communications from the Foreign Office were in this spirit. At
the same time Palmerston took care not to commit himself in
writing. When the death of the King was approaching, Palmerston
foresaw that he would have to change his tone with regard to
Eastern politics, and consequently that it would be convenient to
throw over Urquhart, which he proceeded to do. This man, first
his tool and then his victim, turned out to be bold,
unprincipled, and clever, and finding his prospects ruined and
his reputation damaged, he turned fiercely upon him whom he
considered as his persecutor and betrayer. It is fortunate for
Palmerston that the matter has broken out at the end of the
Session when people are all on the wing and there is not time to
sift anything to the bottom, but still the charges are so grave,
and they involve such serious consequences and considerations,
that it is absolutely necessary the truth should be manifested
one way or another.[21] The Foreign Ministers all believe that
Palmerston is guilty. Dedel told me last night that Pozzo had
said to him, 'Quant à moi, je ne dirai pas un mot; mais si tout
cela est vrai, il faut aller aux galères pour trouver un pareil
forfait.' Graham said to me that he was sincerely sorry for it,
inasmuch as he had personally a regard for Palmerston; that no
man was ever a better, more honourable, or kinder colleague, more
anxious to smooth differences and adjust disputes; that _he_
could not attack him in the House of Commons, neither would
Stanley; that Peel, who hated him, would not dislike doing so,
but that he was too cautious to trust implicitly to Urquhart's
assertions, and to commit himself by acting on them; that there
was nobody else capable of dealing with the subject well, and
that Canning[22] ought not, for the same reasons (only much
stronger in his case) that restrained himself and Stanley.
[20] [King William's Private Secretary.]
[21] The truth never was manifested, the matter blew over,
very little ever was said about it in the newspapers,
Urquhart's revelations never appeared, the public
forgot it, and the whole affair died a natural death.--
January 6th, 1839.
[22] [Sir Stratford Canning, afterwards Lord Stratford de
Redcliffe, was at this time a Member of the House of
Commons.]
The bishops were at loggerheads in the House of Lords the other
night on the Ecclesiastical Discipline Bill. Exeter (Phillpotts),
in a most venomous speech, attacked the Archbishop, whose
mildness was stimulated into an angry reply; but Exeter gained
his point, for both Brougham and the Duke were for postponing the
Bill. Phillpotts would have made a great bishop in the days of
Bonner and Gardiner, or he would have been a Becket, or, still
better, a Pope either in the palmy days of papal power or during
the important period of reaction which succeeded the Reformation.
He seems cast in the mould of a Sixtus.
August 3rd, 1838 {p.120}
The following panegyric on the sixth volume of the Duke's
Despatches, evidently written by no common hand, was given by Dr.
Ferguson to Edward Villiers,[23] the Doctor not knowing the
author:--
'The sixth volume appears to me among the most
extraordinary of human productions, ancient or modern. It
is not the mere power of sagacity, vigilance, acute and
comprehensive reasoning, or, in short, the intellectual
perfection of the book, various and wonderful as it is,
which affects my mind most deeply: it is the love of
justice, the love of truth, the love of humanity, the
love of country, the fine temper, the tolerance of error,
the mildness of reproof, the _superb morality_ of the
great and masculine spirit displayed throughout it, which
it is impossible for an honest man to observe without
affection and admiration.'
[23] [The Hon. Edward Ernest Villiers, a younger brother of
Lord Clarendon, filled at this time the office of Clerk
of the Clergy Returns to the Privy Council.]
August 8th, 1838 {p.121}
[Page Head: MACAULAY'S LIFE IN INDIA.]
James Stephen yesterday was talking to me about Macaulay. He came
to him soon after his return from India, and told him that when
there he used to get up at five every morning (as everybody else
did), and till nine or ten he read Greek and Latin, and went
through the whole range of classical literature of every sort and
kind; that one day in the Government library he had met with the
works of Chrysostom, fourteen Greek folios, and that he had taken
home first one volume and then another, till he had read the
whole through, that is, he had not read every word, because he
had found that it contained a great deal of stuff not worth
reading, but he had carefully looked at every page, and had
actually read the greater part. His object now is to devote
himself to literature, and his present project, to write a
History of England for the last 150 years, in which Stephen says
he would give scope to his fine imagination in the delineation of
character, and bring his vast stores of knowledge to the
composition of the narrative, and would, without doubt, produce a
work of astonishing power and interest. Macaulay says if he had
the power of recalling everything he has ever written and
published and of destroying it all, he would do so, for he thinks
that his time has been thrown away upon _opuscula_ unworthy of
his talents. This is, however, a very preposterous squeamishness
and piece of pride or humility, whichever it may be called, for
no man need be ashamed of producing anything perfect in its kind,
however the kind may not be the highest, and his reviews are
perfect in their way. I asked Stephen by what mental process
Macaulay had contrived to accumulate such boundless stores of
information, and how it was all so sorted and arranged in his
head that it was always producible at will. He said that he had
first of all the power of abstraction, of giving his undivided
attention to the book and the subject on which he was occupied;
then, as other men read by syllables or by words, he had the
faculty, acquired by use, of reading by whole sentences, of
swallowing, as it were, whole paragraphs at once, and thus he
infinitely abbreviated the mere mechanical part of study; that as
an educated man would read any number of pages much more quickly
than an uneducated man, so much more quickly would Macaulay read
than any ordinary man. Therefore it is first and foremost the
power of abstraction, that faculty of attention and of rendering
up his mind to the matter before him, which makes all his reading
profitable, and leaves nothing to be wasted and frittered away.
Then the acquired habit of devouring at a glance a vast surface
of print, so that, like the dragon of Wantley, to whom
Houses and churches
Were like geese and turkeys,
he can discuss a Greek folio while an ordinary man is dawdling or
boggling over a pamphlet or a newspaper.
Nature has certainly cast the mind of Macaulay in a different
mould from that of common men. There is no more comparison
between his brain and such a one as mine than between a hurdy-
gurdy in the street and the great organ at Haarlem; but it is
probably not true that _nature_ has made all the difference or
the greatest part of it. If the hurdy-gurdy was kept in constant
tune and the great instrument was never played upon, and its
barrels and tubes allowed to grow rusty, the former would at
length discourse the more eloquent music of the two. No care or
cultivation indeed could have made me what Macaulay is, but if he
had wasted his time and frittered away his intellects as I have
done mine, he would only have been an ordinary man; while if I
had been carefully trained and subjected to moral discipline, I
might have acted a creditable and useful part.
August 10th, 1838 {p.123}
[Page Head: LORD DURHAM'S ORDINANCE.]
Lord Durham[24] has got into a fine scrape with his Ordinance,
which is clearly illegal. Brougham brought it forward on Tuesday
night in an exulting speech, or rather in many exulting speeches,
one of which contained some eloquent passages. He was transported
with joy at having, as he said, 'got them at last.' The Duke
supported Brougham, but with more temper and dignity; the
Ministers made but a poor defence, if defence it could be called.
Durham's appointments cancelled and his proclamations declared
illegal will neither sweeten his temper nor exalt his character
in Canada.
[24] [Lord Durham had passed an Ordinance enacting that
Papineau and the leaders of the Canadian rebellion
should be transported to Bermuda, and that if any of
them returned to Canada they should suffer death. This
was done before trial and without authority or law. It
was consequently attacked with great vehemence by Lord
Brougham in the House of Lords, on the 30th of July,
and again on the 5th of August, and he brought in a
Bill declaring the true meaning and intent of the
Canada Act. The second reading was carried against the
Government by a majority of eighteen, and Ministers
were compelled to disallow the Ordinance, the legality
of which could not, indeed, be defended.]
August 11th, 1838 {p.123}
Brougham introduced his Bill of Indemnity (a Declaratory Bill) in
an admirable speech, dignified, calm, and ably reasoned.
Melbourne was imprudent enough to talk of 'a trap having been
laid for Durham,' at which the Duke was very angry, and made a
strong speech. Last night they announced that they mean to let
this Bill pass, for that there is a necessity for some such Bill.
It certainly admits of a doubt whether Durham's Ordinance is
illegal, except as relates to transporting people to Bermuda, but
it is inexcusable that he should not have been better advised and
more cautious than to make any such blunder. We were told that
Turton's indifferent moral character was to be overlooked in
favour of his great legal capacity, and now it appears that his
law is not a jot better than his morals.
Yesterday I met Mr. Barnes at dinner for the purpose of being
introduced to him: an agreeable man enough, with evidently a vast
deal of information, but his conversation bears no marks of that
extraordinary vigour and pungency for which the articles in the
'Times' are so distinguished.[25]
[25] [Mr. Barnes was then chief editor of the 'Times.' Mr.
Greville had long been in correspondence with him, but
this was the first time they met.]
August 12th, 1838 {p.124}
[Page Head: THE ORDINANCE DISALLOWED.]
Lord Melbourne agreed to the Indemnity Bill, but with many
complaints of the bad effect the discussion would have in Canada.
Brougham was triumphant, the Duke moderate and conciliatory. No
doubt Brougham, in hitting this blot, was animated with nothing
but the delight of firing a double shot into Durham there and the
Ministry here, and as to the consequences he cared not a straw;
but I am unable to perceive how it would have been possible to
pass the Ordinance _sub silentio_, its illegality being clear,
and so far from its being dangerous to discuss the matter in
Parliament, it is fortunate that the case occurred before
Parliament broke up, so that the necessary Acts may pass to
secure Durham and all others acting under his authority from the
consequences which might have arisen from a later discovery of
the irregularity of his proceedings; for what might not have
happened if this Ordinance had been published during the recess
and pronounced illegal by high legal authority and taken up by
the press? The Government must have confirmed it on their own
responsibility, or disallowed it by their own authority; they
would not have dared do the first, and their disallowance would
have been fraught with as serious consequences as a parliamentary
condemnation. By Melbourne's own showing, and for the reasons
which he says induced him to agree to the Bill--namely, that one
part of the Ordinance is clearly illegal, and that it is
impossible to take one part and to reject another--he ought
himself to have come to Parliament for an Indemnity Bill and a
Declaratory Act. The question resolves itself into this: what
power would the Colonial Legislature have had if the Act had not
passed by which the constitution was suspended? and would it have
been competent to do what Durham has done? Upon this point
authorities differ, but everybody agrees that, whatever the
Colonial Legislature could have done, Durham (with his Council)
can do. If, however, Parliament did not think fit to define his
power, and great doubts exist as to its extent, the reasonable,
indeed the indispensable course seems to be that those doubts
should be as speedily as possible removed, and the amount of his
authority clearly and expressly ascertained.
August 13th, 1838 {p.125}
At a Council to-day to disallow Durham's Ordinance. Nothing was
sent from the Colonial Office, and I did not know what it was for
till I saw Lord Lansdowne. He told me, and then I wrote the Order
for the Queen to approve, and he took it in to her. Presently
Glenelg arrived, and announced that nothing could be done, for
the authenticated copy under the Great Seal of the Colony was not
arrived. Then a consultation was held: Lord Lansdowne was for not
minding about the Great Seal, and Melbourne chuckled and grunted,
and said, 'Why, you knock over his Ordinances, and he won't care
about the form, will he?' I said, 'If there is no precedent, make
one,' and accordingly the Order passed. They are very angry with
the House of Lords, and Lord John said they had behaved very ill,
and ought to have waited till the whole case was before them: but
I think it _was_ all before them.
August 20th, 1838 {p.125}
At Stoke on Saturday, where Lord Sefton is sinking to the grave
in a miserable state of depression and mental debility. Up by the
railroad and dined at Holland House for the first time for above
a year; sat next to Lord FitzGerald at dinner, who lamented to me
the loss of the Corporation Bill; he said he would not have
consented to the lesser qualification, but would have agreed to
all the other clauses if he had had his own way. The continuance
of the trusts in the hands of the old Corporation he thought
unwise, calculated to offend feelings and prejudices, and
inconsistent with their own opinion of the corporators
themselves. Wharncliffe, on the other hand, told me some time ago
that he did not care about the qualification, but he defended,
though feebly, the trusts. This shows how dissatisfied the
moderate and sensible of the party are with their own
proceedings.
August 23rd, 1838 {p.126}
[Page Head: REVIEW OF THE SESSION.]
In looking back at the past Session, unexampled in duration, the
first thing that occurs to one is how uneventful it has been, and
how precisely the political state of affairs has ended as it
began. The characters of certain conspicuous men have manifested
themselves in a very striking manner, but that is all; the
Government are still in their places, not a jot stronger than
they were, and the Opposition maintain their undiminished phalanx
without being at all nearer coming into power. The House of
Commons uniformly supports the Government, the House of Lords
frequently opposes it, but the difference between the two Houses
seldom swells to a dispute; it is languidly carried on and
carelessly regarded, the country at large not seeming to mind who
are in or who are out. The great meteor of the year has been
Brougham, who, by common consent, has given proofs of the
undiminished force of his wonderful capacity, and who has spoken
with as much, if not with greater eloquence than at any previous
period of his life. But while he has excited no small degree of
wonder and admiration, he has not raised his reputation for
wisdom or honesty. He has exhibited such an unbridled rage
against the Government, he has appeared to be animated with so
much spite and malice, without a particle of public spirit, but
only with a vindictive determination to punish them for having
rejected him, that the world has only regarded him and his
performances as they would look at a great actor on the stage. So
bent has he been upon worrying the Ministers, so determined his
enmity to them, that he has sought to ally himself with the most
extreme sections of opposition, congregating with the Roebucks,
Wakleys, and Leaders in the morning, contriving and concocting
with them measures of ultra-Radicalism, then hugging Lyndhurst,
bowing down to the Duke, courting the Tory lords, and figuring,
flirting, and palavering at night at the routs of the Tory
ladies. In the House of Lords, Lyndhurst was well content to hunt
in couples with him; but the Duke has kept him at arm's length,
and though always on civil, would never be on intimate terms with
him. Far different has been the Duke's own career, for he has,
throughout the Session, displayed a dignity, candour, and
moderation, without any tameness or indifference or inactivity,
which raise him to the highest rank as a statesman and a patriot,
and show him equally mindful of his own honour and his country's
good. He alone has moderated the rancour of Lyndhurst, kept in
check the violence of Brougham, and restrained the impetuosity
and impatience of his party. His abstinence from opposition
exceedingly provoked his followers, for, with the exception of
the question of the appointment of magistrates by the Chancellor,
upon which he treated the latter with considerable asperity, and
blamed his conduct severely, he displayed uniform leniency and
forbearance; at the end of the session, indeed, he supported
Brougham in his attack upon Durham, though not by any means
joining in it with the same _animus_. Melbourne, very soon after
the commencement of the session, openly, avowedly, and
intentionally quarrelled with Brougham and set him at defiance.
However unequal to him on the whole, he came off tolerably well
in the little skirmishes which constantly took place between
them, and he derived a strength and security from the Duke's
forbearance or support, which enabled him to jog on without
sustaining any material damage from Brougham's terrible assaults.
None of his colleagues were of much use to him, and Glenelg got
so cruelly mauled at first, that he had afterwards no mind to
mingle more than he could help in the fray.
[Page Head: OPPOSITION IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS.]
In the House of Commons the debates have been much less
interesting and exciting than in the House of Lords. John Russell
has continued steadily to advance in public estimation as a
speaker and political leader, and Morpeth and Sir George Grey
have taken higher places, while Rice and Thomson have lost
ground, and Hobhouse has sunk into utter insignificance. Peel
has, throughout the Session, acted a moderate, cautious part, and
Stanley and Graham have said and done little or nothing, both
parties, as if by common consent, keeping each other at bay, and
alike conscious that their relative strength is too equal to
admit of any great triumph on either side. This balance of
parties keeps the Ministers in place, but keeps them weak and
nearly powerless either for good or for evil. It has not,
however, had the effect of exalting the third party (the
Radical), which has, on the contrary, sunk in numbers,
reputation, and influence. The conduct of the ultra-Radicals in
the House of Commons, on the outbreak of the Canadian
insurrection, revealed their real disposition and disgusted the
country, and, _for the present_, nothing can be lower than the
Radical interest, or more feeble and innocuous than the
revolutionary principle. The great mass of the Tories are always
fretting and fuming at the Whigs retaining possession of office,
and are impatient to assault them in front, and indignant that
they do not of their own accord resign, but the wiser and the
cooler know that however weak the Whigs may be as a Government,
and however insufficient their power to execute all they would
like to do, they are fortified in their places by certain
barriers which their adversaries are still more powerless to
break through; for they have the cordial, undoubted support of
the Queen, they are the Ministers of her choice, and they have a
majority (a small but a clear and a certain majority) in the
House of Commons. A great Tory principle therefore coalesces with
a great Whig principle to maintain them in office; for the
Tories,--who were indignant at what they considered an invasion
of the King's prerogative in 1835, when the House of Commons
would not let him choose his own Ministers, or, which is the same
thing, so continually thwarted the Ministers of his choice as to
compel them to resign, and left him no alternative but that of
taking back those whom he had dismissed--the Tories could not
with any consistency deny to the Queen the exercise of the same
authority sanctioned by the support of the House of Commons,
which they claimed for King William even against the declared
opinion of the House. Nothing is left for them, therefore, but a
sulky acquiescence in the present state of things; but they
indemnify themselves by placing the House of Lords in the new
position of an assailant of the Queen's Government, and the
Peers, without daring to assert any co-ordinate authority with
the House of Commons as to the choice of Ministers, evince their
disapprobation of that choice by frequently thwarting their most
important measures. It is curious that none of them--not even
Lyndhurst himself, perhaps not the Duke of Wellington--seems to
perceive that in the midst of their horror of innovation and
dread of great constitutional changes, they have themselves made
a great practical change in the constitutional functions of the
House of Lords; that it is a departure from the character and
proper province of that House to array itself in permanent and
often bitter hostility to the Government, and to persist in
continually rejecting measures recommended by the Crown and
passed by the Commons. When the House of Lords opposed and
thwarted the Ministers during the last two years of King
William's reign, they may have justified themselves on their own
Tory principle, and (assuming as a fact that the King was in the
hands of a faction, from whose bondage he could not release
himself), that they were only supporting the Crown when they
opposed the Ministers whom the House of Commons had forced upon
him, and therefore, both as Tories and as Conservatives, they
were taking a consistent, constitutional, and prudent course; but
even if this was true then, it is certainly not true now, and it
is, I believe, the first time that there is no party in the House
of Lords supporting the Crown, nor any individual acting upon
that principle, but all are either Whigs or Tories arrayed
against each other and battling for power.