CHAPTER VII.

Review of the Session--Ministerial Changes--Effect of Changes in

the Government--A Greenwich Dinner--Dover Dinner to the Duke of

Wellington--A Toast from Ovid--Decay of Tory Loyalty--

Unpopularity of Government--Brougham's Letter to the Duke of

Bedford--Character of John, Duke of Bedford--Brougham at the

Dover Dinner--Brougham and Macaulay--The Duke's Decline--Duke

of Wellington consulted on Indian and Spanish Affairs--Baron

Brunnow arrives in England--False Reports of Lord Brougham's

Death--Insulting Speeches of the Tories--Holland House--Lord

Brougham and Lord Holland--The Queen's Marriage is announced--

Remarkable Anecdote of the Duke of Wellington--The Mayor of

Newport at Windsor--Ampthill--Lord John Russell's Borough

Magistrates--Lord Clarendon's Advice to his Colleagues--

Prospects of the Government--Opening of the Session--Duel of

Mr. Bradshaw and Mr. Horsman--Lord Lyndhurst's View of

Affairs--Prince Albert's Household--The Privilege Question--

Prince Albert's Allowance--Precedence of Prince Albert--Lord

John Russell and Sir Robert Peel--Judgement on the Newport

Prisoners--A Vote of Want of Confidence moved--The Newport

Prisoners--Prince Albert's Precedency--Sir Robert Peel and his

Party--Sir Robert Peel's Speech and Declaration--Precedence

Question--The Queen's Marriage--Illness of the Duke of

Wellington--The Precedence Question settled--The Duke opposed

to Peel on the Privilege Question--Change in the Health of the

Duke--Prince Albert's Name in the Liturgy--Success of Pamphlet

on Precedence--Judicial Committee Bill--Lord Dudley's Letters--

Amendment of Judicial Committee--King's Sons born Privy

Councillors, other Princes sworn--The Duke returns to London--

Lord Melbourne's Opinion on Journals.

August 15th, 1839 {p.231}

[Page Head: A SINKING MINISTRY.]

This eventful Session and season has at length closed, Lyndhurst

having wound up by a _résumé_ of the acts of the Government, in

one of those 'exercitations,' as Melbourne calls them, which are

equally pungent for their severity, and admirable for their

lucidity. Melbourne made a bitter reply, full of personalities,

against Lyndhurst, but offering a meagre defence for himself and

his colleagues. Those who watch the course of events, and who

occasionally peep behind the curtain, have but a sorry spectacle

to contemplate:--a Government miserably weak, dragging on a

sickly existence, now endeavouring to curry a little favour with

one party, now with another; so unused to stand, and so incapable

of standing, on any great principles, that at last they have, or

appear to have, none to stand on. Buffeted by their antagonists,

and often by their supporters in Parliament, despised by the

country at large, clinging to office merely to gratify the Queen,

while they are just sufficiently supported in the House of

Commons to keep their places, and not enough to carry their

measures; for so meagre are their majorities, and so little do

the public care for those majorities, or for the Ministers or

their measures, that the Lords do not scruple to treat the

Ministerial Bills with undisguised contempt. At the beginning of

this Session, the weakness of the Government, and the

impossibility of their going on, were so obvious, that the more

wise and moderate of them began to prepare for their retirement,

and Lord John Russell, by the publication of his Stroud letter,

and the expression of those opinions which I was the means of

conveying to Peel, evinced his determination to make the

dissolution of the Government ancillary to the ascendency of true

Conservative principles. The break-up came sooner than had been

expected, and when Ministers resigned, on the majority of five on

the Jamaica Bill (which they need not have done), they acted

wisely, for they were enabled to retire with dignity, Peel and

the Opposition having been clearly and flagrantly in the wrong

upon this particular measure--so wrong, that it has been, and

still is, matter of astonishment to me why they gave battle upon

it, and I suspect that Peel was by no means elated at his own

success on that occasion. However, out they went upon the Jamaica

question, and though they fancy Peel did not really wish to form

a Government, and that the difficulties he made were only a

pretext for escaping from his position, this is not the case; he

had no misgivings or fears, and was quite ready to undertake the

task. However, _Diis aliter visum_: the Queen kept Lord

Melbourne, and they came back to accumulated difficulties, and

without any augmentation of parliamentary strength or popular

sympathy to sustain them. They made one miserable effort, and

tossed a sop to the Radicals, by making the Ballot an open

question, the grace and utility of which were entirely marred by

Lord Howick's speech, so that they got all the discredit of this

concession without any compensatory advantage. They had begun the

campaign by the abrupt expulsion of Glenelg (nobody has ever made

out exactly why) and by bringing over Normanby in breathless

haste to supersede him, without any reasonable probability of his

giving such an accession of vigour and capacity to the Government

as would justify this operation, and accordingly as more than

ordinary success was requisite for a man promoted under such

circumstances, the deeper were the mortification and

disappointment at his failure. The Irish Committee, which put him

on the defence of his administration there, distracted his

attention and disturbed his mind, and he turned out to be unequal

to his situation. His defence of himself upon Ireland was very

weak, and his whole parliamentary conduct of colonial affairs

lamentably inefficient. Then Mr. Spring Rice kept falling into

continual discredit by his financial incompetence, so that day

after day, from one cause or another, the Ministry sank in

estimation, and got more weak and ridiculous. Of this they were

not at all unconscious, and it was settled that something was to

be done, though the difficulty both as to the manner and the

matter was exceedingly great. Rice himself was eager to escape,

and tried hard to be Speaker; but though the Cabinet had resolved

he should be the Government candidate, it was found that no

adequate support could be depended upon for him, and he was

obliged, and they were obliged, to let Lefevre stand instead; at

which Rice himself was so sulky that he showed his spite by

contriving to arrive too late from Tunbridge for the division.

They scrambled on till the end of the Session, when the changes

which had long been discussed and battled were to take place, and

then, naturally, came into play all the vanity, selfishness, and

rival pretensions, which a sense of common danger could not

silence. In the arrangement of all these things, Melbourne is

said to have severely suffered, so repugnant is it to his nature

and habits to be the arbiter and adjuster of rival claims and

pretensions.

It seems to have been arranged long ago that Normanby and John

Russell should change places, ostensibly that the Colonial

Minister might be in the House of Commons, and really because

Normanby broke down, so that it was necessary to harness Lord

John to the Colonial machine. Then they determined to send

Poulett Thomson to Canada, without any consideration of the

effect such an appointment would produce, either here or there,

and his vacancy opened a fresh embarrassment about the Board of

Trade. Labouchere having quitted the Vice-Presidency, and gone to

the Colonial Office to work for them when they were in

difficulty, was considered to have made a sacrifice, and he

demanded as its reward that he should step into Poulett Thomson's

place, and his seat in the Cabinet. Melbourne wanted to offer the

Board of Trade to Clarendon, and wrote to him to beg he would not

go abroad without seeing him, and intimated that he had something

to propose to him. On the other hand, Howick put in a claim for

Charles Wood, and argued that as he had long taken a labouring

oar in the boat, and in this Session, when they had got into a

scrape about the Navy, Wood had successfully defended the

Government in the House of Commons in a very good speech,--this

eminent service, together with a long career of usefulness, gave

him a superior claim to promotion. The details of the contest

between these various candidates I do not know, but the result

was that Labouchere got the place, Howick and Charles Wood both

resigned, and Clarendon had a conversation with Melbourne, in

which the latter informed him, not without embarrassment, that he

had been in hopes he should have had the Board of Trade to offer

him, but that Labouchere's claim had been deemed not postponable,

and all he had to offer him was the Mint without the Cabinet.

Clarendon refused this with perfect good humour, though certainly

not much flattered at the offer, and he took the opportunity of

putting Melbourne in possession of his thoughts, both as to his

own position and intentions, and the condition and prospects of

the Government, with respect to which he did not mince matters,

or fail to paint them in their true colours. He explained his own

desire to try himself more in debate than he had been yet enabled

to do, to see what he was fit for, and in the meantime owned that

he had no particular desire to associate himself with such a

rickety concern. The conversation was frank and characteristic,

and must have been amusing. Melbourne acknowledged that he was

quite right, and that the position of his Government was such as

Clarendon described it.

[Page Head: POULETT THOMSON SENT TO CANADA.]

Nothing strikes one more forcibly in the contemplation of these

things, than the manner in which the public interests are

complimented away for the sake of individual pretensions, and

even in this there is an apparent caprice which is inexplicable.

Glenelg, an honourable and accomplished man, is thrust out under

very humiliating circumstances. Poulett Thomson, we are told,

'must have been' Chancellor of the Exchequer, if not Governor of

Canada (a post he is by way of taking as a favour to his

colleagues), 'he could not be passed over.' Why he could not, and

in what his right consisted, it is difficult to say, nor why he

is entitled to such amazing deference, while poor Glenelg was so

unceremoniously treated. Poulett Thomson is clever and

industrious, but his elevation, when compared with that of

others, and with his own merit, as well as original means of

raising himself, exhibits a very remarkable phenomenon, and as

Lord Spencer, his early patron, has pretty well withdrawn from

public affairs, it is not very obvious how or why Poulett Thomson

is enabled to render his small pretensions so largely available.

The Duke would not believe they meant to send him to Canada, and

said they had much better leave Colborne there; but this is what

they fancy they can't do, and that they must send out somebody

who is to solve the political problem of settling the future form

of government, and so Poulett goes to finish what Durham began.

September 4th, 1839 {p.235}

The changes in the Government have been received with

considerable indifference, nobody much caring, and the generality

of people finding fault with some or all of them. Normanby told

me yesterday that he was fully sensible of the inconvenience of

such changes, and of the bad effect they are calculated to

produce, but that the appointment of Poulett Thomson was John

Russell's doing, that he had been bent upon it, and had carried

it, and as he (Normanby) could not consent to it, and would not

be immediately responsible for it, nothing was left but to change

offices, and let the appointment of Poulett Thomson to Canada be

Lord John's own doing, who would thus administer the affairs of

the Colony with a Governor of his own choice. He added, that it

had been originally intended (when he left Ireland) that he

should take his present office, but other circumstances had

obliged him at that time to go to the Colonies. While Normanby

quits the Colonies, because Thomson goes to Canada (as he says),

Howick (as _he_ says) resigns, because Normanby goes to the Home

Office. But the world believes that the change of the one takes

place, because Normanby is unequal to the work of the Colonies,

and the resignation of the other, because Howick was not himself

appointed Colonial Secretary. The ostensible ground for the

change is, that the Minister who brings forward the Canada

question in the House of Commons may be well versed in all the

official details, and have immediate personal control over the

local administration; and the excuse for sending out Thomson, and

accepting Colborne's resignation, is the necessity of appointing

a Governor thoroughly acquainted with all that has passed both

abroad and at home, cognisant of the intentions, and possessed of

the confidence of the Cabinet. All this will appear to furnish

inadequate grounds for recalling Colborne, who has acted with

sense and vigour, albeit not pretending to be a statesman or a

legislator. A story is told, which shows the levity of the

Government people, and how they make game of what might be

thought matter of anything but pleasantry to them. At the end of

the season there is always a fish dinner at Greenwich, the

whipper-in (Secretary of Treasury), Ben Stanley, in the chair;

and this is on the plan of the Beefsteak Club, everybody saying

what he pleases, and dealing out gibes and jests upon his friends

and colleagues according to the measure of his humour and

capacity. Normanby, still smarting from the attacks of Brougham,

was made the mark for these jocularities, after his health being

drunk thus: 'Lord Normanby and the liberation of the Prisoners.'

At a subsequent period, Rutherford, the Lord Advocate, attacked

the Attorney-General, and said he had long known his learned

friend as the advocate of liberty, but he had lately seen him in

quite a new capacity, prosecuting in the Tory fashion, and having

people shut up in jail in all parts of the country. Campbell said

it was very true that he had lately had a very unpleasant duty to

perform, and that he had been the unwilling instrument of

incarcerating many of Her Majesty's subjects, but that he had all

along been consoled by the reflexion that there was every

probability of his noble friend Lord Normanby making a progress,

during the recess, and letting them all out again. Normanby,

however, did not like the witticism, and complained afterwards

that the dinner was very dull, and the jokes exceedingly heavy.

[Page Head: A GREENWICH DINNER.]

The Dover dinner to the Duke of Wellington,[1] which took place

the other day, did not present an agreeable spectacle. Brougham,

who had thrust himself in among the party, was pitched upon, as

having the best gift of the gab, to propose the Duke's health,

which he did in a very tawdry speech, stuffed with claptraps and

commonplaces. It was a piece of bad taste to select Brougham (who

had nothing to do with Dover) for the performance of this office,

which would have been more appropriately discharged by the local

authority in the chair, although he might not have been able to

make such a flourish as the practised orator favoured the company

with. The Duke himself hates to be thus bepraised, and it is

painful to see Brougham and him in any way connected, though for

so ephemeral a purpose. The Duke's health might be proposed in

three lines of Ovid, which express the position he fills more,

and probably better, than the most studied oration could do:--

Si titulos, annosque tuos numerare velimus,

Facta premant annos. Pro te, fortissime, vota

Publica suscipimus, Bacchi tibi sumimus haustus.

It turned out a complete _Tory_ celebration. There was an almost

unmixed array of Tory names at the banquet, and one Whig lord

(Poltimore), who happened to be at Dover declined attending.

[1] [A great entertainment was given to the Duke of

Wellington as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports on the

30th August. Lord Brougham attended it, and delivered

an oration of the most hyperbolical panegyric.]

September 5th, 1839 {p.238}

Among other bad signs of these times, one is the decay of

_loyalty_ in the Tory party; the Tory principle is completely

destroyed by party rage. No Opposition was ever more rabid than

this is, no people ever treated or spoke of the Sovereign with

such marked disrespect. They seem not to care one straw for the

Crown, its dignity, or its authority, because the head on which

it is placed does not nod with benignity to them. An example of

this took place the other day, when at a dinner at Shrewsbury the

company refused to drink the health of the new Lord Lieutenant,

the Duke of Sutherland (a man not personally obnoxious), because

the Duchess of Sutherland is at the head of the Queen's female

household. This reproach does not apply to the leaders of the

party, who are too wise and too decorous to hold such language or

to approve of such conduct;[2] but is the _animus_ which

distinguishes the tail and the body, and they take no pains to

conceal it.

[2] This was before the Bradshaw and Roby exhibitions.

September 7th, 1839 {p.238}

The result of the Cambridge and Manchester elections proves (if

any proof was wanting), how utterly the cause of Government is

lost in the country, and fully confirms the report of their

universal unpopularity: Cambridge lost by one hundred, and

Manchester barely won. Poulett Thomson told me just before that

the Liberals had a certain majority (for any candidate) of

several hundreds.

September 14th, 1839 {p.238}

[Page Head: BROUGHAM'S LETTER ON EDUCATION.]

Brougham has sent to the press a letter to the Duke of Bedford on

Education, of which he thus speaks in a letter to Lord

Tavistock:... 'I have sent my letter to the Duke to the press at

Edinburgh. I wrote it in eight and a half hours the day I came

here; but if I am to judge, who should not, it is by far the best

thing I ever did, and the only eloquent. My whole heart was in

it, both from affection to your excellent father, and to the

subject. I hope it will do good, for the time is going away under

me, and I shall be called to my great account before I have done

any good on earth. Therefore I must make a new attempt at having

something to show.' The production will be probably very good in

its way and very eloquent, but the note is characteristic--a

mixture of pride and humility, humbugging and self-deceitful.

What cares he for the Duke of Bedford, whom he scarcely sees from

one end of the year to the other, and why should he care? They

have very little in common--neither the _idem velle_ nor _idem

nolle_; and a more uninteresting, weak-minded, selfish character

does not exist than the Duke of Bedford.[3] He is a good-natured,

plausible man, without enemies, and really (though he does not

think so) without friends; and naturally enough he does not think

so, because there are many who pretend, like Brougham, a strong

affection for him, and some who imagine they feel it. Vast

property, rank, influence, and station always attract a sentiment

which is dignified with the name of friendship, which assumes all

its outward appearance, complies with its conditions, but which

is really hollow and unsubstantial. The Duke of Bedford thinks of

nothing but his own personal enjoyments, and it has long been a

part of his system not to allow himself to be disturbed by the

necessities of others, or be ruffled by the slightest self-

denial. He is affable, bland, and of easy intercourse, making

rather a favourable impression on superficial observers; caring

little, if at all, for the wants or wishes of others, but

grudging nobody anything that does not interfere with his own

pursuits, and seeing with complacency those who surround him lap

up the superfluities which may chance to bubble over from his cup

of pleasure and happiness. It is a farce to talk of friendship

with such a man, on whom, if he were not Duke of Bedford,

Brougham would never waste a thought.

[3] [These remarks relate to John, sixth Duke of Bedford,

born 6th July, 1766, died 29th October, 1839. He was

the father of the Lord Tavistock often mentioned in

these Journals, and of Lord William and Lord John

Russell.]

September 17th, 1839 {p.240}

Finding the Duke of Wellington was in town yesterday, I called on

him. He talked to me a great deal about Brougham and the Dover

dinner, and told me a comical anecdote with reference to his

giving the toast of the Duke's health at the dinner. The

Committee invited him and, as the chairman was a man who could

not speak at all, they, thinking it a catch to get so great an

orator to do the office, proposed to Brougham to give the toast

of the night. He accepted, and then they found that Lord

Guilford, a man of the first rank and consequence in the county,

and therefore entitled to this distinction, was highly affronted

at the preference of Brougham to him. They got embarrassed, and

desired to take the toast from Brougham and give it to Lord

Guilford, and when he got down there this was suggested to him;

but he said 'it could not be, for he had not only written his

speech beforehand, but had already sent it to be published, so

that no alteration was then possible.' The consequence was, Lord

Guilford would not come to the dinner, and he was only pacified

afterwards by the Duke himself, who went to call upon him for the

purpose of soothing down his ruffled plumage; this he succeeded

in doing by telling him this story, and nothing the Duke said

reconciled him so much to what had passed, as the fact of

Brougham's having written his speech beforehand.

He told me what Brougham had said of Macaulay (whom he hates with

much cordiality), when somebody asked if he was to be Secretary

at War. 'No, Melbourne would not consent to it: he would not have

him in the Cabinet, and could not endure to sit with ten parrots,

a chime of bells, and Lady W----.'

The more I see of the Duke, the more am I struck with the

impression that he is declining; that he is not what he was a

year or two ago. He is vigorous and hearty, cheerful, lively; his

memory does not seem to be impaired; he talks with sense and

energy. If anybody asserted that they saw symptoms of mental

decay, it would be easy to deny the fact, and to support the

denial by ready and numerous examples of his force and sagacity

in discussion, or in the transaction of business; but

nevertheless I am persuaded that a change has come over him, that

it is gradually spreading more and sinking deeper, and that we

must begin to make up our minds to the deprivation of his noble

spirit, full of honesty, wisdom, and patriotism as it is.[4]

[4] [The Duke, however, lived and flourished for thirteen

years after this prediction.]

September 21st, 1839 {p.241}

[Page Head: THE AFGHAN EXPEDITION.]

I dined at Holland House last night, where, among others, were

General Alava, and Sir John Hobhouse, the first in high glee at

the termination of the war in Spain, and the last at the success

of the Indian expedition.[5] Hobhouse told me that Auckland had

displayed extraordinary qualities, and was the ablest Governor

India had seen for a great length of time. Alava said that the

last transactions in Spain and the mediation of Lord John Hay had

reflected the highest honour on our Government, and that we had

acted with a discretion, a delicacy, and a disinterestedness

beyond all praise. But both Alava and Hobhouse told me what is

very remarkable as showing the great reliance which even his

political opponents place in the wisdom and patriotism of the

Duke. Hobhouse said that he had had some time ago a very long

conversation with the Duke, in which he had made him acquainted

with all the means employed for the accomplishment of their

Indian objects, and that the Duke, who had previously anticipated

their failure, had, after hearing all these details, expressed

himself perfectly satisfied, and admitted that they had every

assurance of success. He did not go into the policy of the

measure, which it would not have been proper or advisable to do,

but merely treated the question of military resources and their

employment.

[5] [This was the expedition to replace Shah Sooja on the

throne of Afghanistan, which was so auspiciously

commenced and so deplorably terminated. Sir John

Hobhouse was greatly elated at the enterprise and very

confident of the result. He said to me soon afterwards

that we must encounter the policy of Russia, and that

the theatre of the struggle was Central Asia. I replied

that I should have preferred the Baltic.--H.R.]

So, too, Alava, as soon as intelligence reached him and

Palmerston of the overtures of Maroto, asked leave to communicate

it to the Duke, which was immediately conceded. He was therefore

informed of all that was going on, and it met with his fullest

approbation; and yet all this time the great organ of the Tories

is raving against the Government in the most frantic manner, for

having been instrumental to this happy termination of the most

frightful and revolting civil war that ever afflicted any

country.[6]

[6] [The active support given to Espartero by the British

Government under the Quadruple Treaty, and the

operations of Lord John Hay on the northern coast of

Spain, which stopped the supplies of the Carlists,

contributed to bring the contest for the Crown of Spain

to an end, and on the 15th August Don Carlos

surrendered himself to the French Government at

Bayonne.]

September 23rd, 1839 {p.242}

Lady Holland asked me the other night what I thought of their

prospects, and I told her I thought them very bad. She said, 'The

fact is, we have nothing to rely upon but the Queen and Paddy.'

This has since struck me as being an epigrammatic but very

correct description of their position.

Last night there came to Holland House after dinner Brunnow and

Nesselrode's son, the first (not unlike Brougham, and would be

very like if his nose moved about), a very able man, and said to

be 'la pensée intime de l'Empereur,' sent over to see what can be

done about the Eastern Question, which I take to be a very

difficult matter.[7] I had much talk with Dedel (who told me

this) about Palmerston. I said it was well known he was very able

with his pen, but I did not know how he was in Conference. He

replied: 'Palmerston comes to any Conference so fully and

completely master of the subject of it in all the minutest

details, that this capacity is a peculiar talent with him; it is

so great, that he is apt sometimes to lose himself in the

details.'

[7] [Baron Brunnow was sent to England at this time by the

Emperor Nicholas to make the first overtures for the

intervention of the Great Powers in the quarrel between

the Sultan and the Pasha of Egypt. This overture was

rejected by the Cabinet in 1839, but accepted on the

Baron's return to England in the following year, and it

led to the celebrated treaty of the 15th July, 1840,

and the quarrel with France, the true object of

Nicholas having been the severance of the Western

Powers. M. de Brunnow remained in England as Minister

or Ambassador for nearly thirty-five years.]

London, November 8th, 1839 {p.243}

Six weeks nearly of an absolute blank. Left town October 1,

Newmarket, then Cromer for ten days, Newmarket, London,

Riddlesworth, Newmarket again, Euston, and back on Monday last.

Nothing very remarkable has happened in this interval. Lord

Clarendon[8] accepted the Privy Seal, not very willingly, but

feeling that he could not, with decency, refuse it. They consider

his accession to the Government a matter of great importance, and

the Tories own it to be so, such a reputation has he acquired by

the brilliant manner in which he conducted the mission in Spain,

and by his popular and engaging qualities.

[8] [George William Frederic Villiers, fourth Earl of

Clarendon, succeeded his uncle in the title in

December, 1838. He had filled for some years with

distinguished ability the office of British Minister at

Madrid. He now returned to England; married Lady

Katharine Barham, eldest daughter of the Earl of

Verulam and widow of John Forster-Barham, Esq., in June

1839, and entered the Cabinet for the first time as

Lord Privy Seal.]

[Page Head: LORD BROUGHAM'S PRETENDED DEATH.]

Nothing has excited so much interest as the hoax of Brougham's

pretended death,[9] which was generally believed for twenty-four

hours, and the report elicited a host of criticisms and

panegyrics on his life and character, for the most part

flattering, except that in the 'Times,' which was very able but

very severe, and not less severe than true. As soon as it was

discovered that he was not dead, the liveliest indignation was

testified at the joke that had been played off, and the utmost

anxiety to discover its origin. General suspicion immediately

fixed itself on Brougham himself, who, finding the bad impression

produced, hastened to remove it by a vehement but indirect denial

of having had any share in, or knowledge of, the hoax. But so

little reliance is placed upon his word, that everybody laughs at

his denials, and hardly anybody has a shadow of a doubt that he

was himself at the bottom of it. He has taken the trouble to

write to all sorts of people, old friends and new, to exonerate

himself from the charge; but never was trouble more thrown away.

D'Orsay says that he carefully compared the (supposed) letter of

Shafto with one of Brougham's to him, and that they were

evidently written by the same hand. The paper, with all its

marks, was the same, together with various other minute

resemblances, leaving no doubt of the fact.

[9] [A letter from Brougham purporting to be from Mr.

Shafto was received by Mr. Alfred Montgomery, which

contained the particulars of Lord Brougham's death by a

carriage accident. Mr. Montgomery brought the letter to

Lady Blessington's at Gore House, where I happened to

be, and I confess we were all taken in by the hoax.

Montgomery went off in a post-chaise to break the news

to Lord Wellesley at Fernhill; and meeting Lord Alfred

Paget in Windsor Park, he sent the news to the Castle.

The trick was kept up for twenty-four hours, but the

next day I received a note from Brougham himself, full

of his usual spirits and vitality.--H.R.]

[Page Head: VIOLENCE OF THE TORIES.]

Next to this episode, Jemmy Bradshaw's speech at Canterbury has

attracted the greatest attention, and he has been for many days

the hero of newspaper discussion. This speech, which was a tissue

of folly and impertinence, but principally remarkable for a

personal attack of the most violent and indecent kind upon the

Queen, was received with shouts of applause at a Conservative

dinner, and reported with many compliments, and some gentle

reprehension by the Tory press. His example has since been

followed in a less offensive style by two others calling

themselves Tories--a Mr. Roby and a Mr. Escott. Of these rabid

and disloyal effusions, the Government papers have not failed to

make the most, by pointing out the disaffected and almost

treasonable character of modern Toryism when embittered by

exclusion from office; and there is no doubt that, contemptible

as the authors are, their senseless and disgusting exhibitions

are calculated to do great mischief; for, if no other evil

ensued, it is one of no small consequence to sour the mind of the

Queen still more against the whole Tory party, and fasten upon

her an impression which it will be difficult to efface, that she

is odious and her authority contemptible in their eyes, so long

as she is unfavourable to them, and commits herself to other

hands than theirs. Peel is to be pitied for having to lead such

an unruly and unprincipled faction. Everything seems disjointed,

all is confusion; moderate men, desirous of good government,

stability, security, and safe amendment of political evils or

errors, can find no resting-place. The Tories, the professors and

protectors of Conservative principles, the abhorrers of changes,

who would not have so much as a finger laid upon the integrity of

the Constitution, are ready to roll the Crown in the dirt, and

trample it under their feet; and the Government, to whom the

maintenance of the Constitution is entrusted, whose especial duty

it is to uphold the authority of the laws, are openly allied

with, and continually truckling to, those factions, or sections

of factions, which make no secret of their desire and

determination to effect changes which nobody denies to be

equivalent to revolution; and then we have the weight of the

Crown thrown into the scale of this unholy alliance, from the

mere influence of personal predilections and antipathies. To such

a degree is principle dormant, or so entirely is it thrust into

the background by passion, prejudice, or the interest of the

passing hour.

November 13th, 1839 {p.245}

At Holland House for three days last week. Lord Holland told many

stories of Lord Chatham, some of which I had heard before, and

some not. His stories are always excellent, and excellently told,

and those who have heard them before can very well bear to hear

them again. I think I have somewhere inserted the 'Sugar' story,

which Lord Harrowby told me many years ago, but without the

vivacity and good acting of Lord Holland. Another of his sayings

was in the House of Lords, when, on I forget what question, he

was unsupported: 'My Lords, I stand like our First Parents--

alone, naked, but not ashamed.' This was fine. Lord Holland said

there was nothing like real oratory in Parliament before the

American war.

He had received several letters from Brougham in a most strange,

incoherent style, avowedly for the purpose of thanking Lady

Holland for the interest he heard she had shown about him when

his death was reported, and at the same time to explain that he

had no hand in the report, which he did with the utmost solemnity

of asseveration;[10] but he took this opportunity to descant on

the conduct of the party towards him, of the press, of the

people, and of the leading Whigs, talked of the flags of truce he

had held out, and how they had been fired on, and that he must

again arm himself for another fight. All this in a curious,

disjointed style. As these letters were considered flags of

truce, Lady Holland fired upon them an invitation to dinner, but

he would not come. I met him on Sunday, and asked him why he did

not come, but he would not give any answer whatever. On that

occasion he talked for two hours without stopping, abusing one

person after another, particularly Fonblanque, and then telling

the whole history of the Reform Bill and of the famous

dissolution, and of all his own exploits on that occasion. It was

amusing enough, but he talks too much, and his talk has the grand

fault of not impressing his hearers with an idea of its truth; it

is lively, energetic, vivacious, abundant, but it is artificial

and unsatisfactory, because liable to suspicion and doubt.

[10] It was well known, eventually, that the hoax was

entirely his own, and the letter dictated by himself.

Windsor Castle, November 15th, 1839 {p.246}

Here for a Council. I sat next to Baroness Lehzen at dinner--a

clever, agreeable woman. She complained of Peel's having said in

the House of Commons that he did not mean to turn her out, and

says he ought to have said he could not, and that he had nothing

to do with her, as she is not in the public service. I defended

Peel. In the evening, Lord Melbourne told me to search the

Council books and see what was the form of declaration of the

Sovereign's marriage, so that matter is pretty clearly settled.

November 23rd, 1839 {p.246}

[Page Head: THE QUEEN'S BETROTHAL.]

At Wolbeding for three days. Then news came of the Duke's

illness, which, though it turned out to be exaggerated, will, I

fear, prove to have given him a shake. The Council being summoned

to declare the Queen's marriage to-day, I have come up to town

for it, and am just returned from the declaration, which took

place in the lower apartments of the palace. About eighty Privy

Councillors present, all who were within call having attended.

Peel, Lyndhurst, and the Duke. The Duke arrived last night for

the purpose; he looked very old, very feeble, and decrepit. I

thought a great change was observable in him, but he was cheerful

as usual, and evidently tried to make the best of it. The Queen

had sent in the morning to enquire after him, and the answer was,

'He had had a restless night.' All the Privy Councillors seated

themselves, when the folding-doors were thrown open, and the

Queen came in, attired in a plain morning-gown, but wearing a

bracelet containing Prince Albert's picture. She read the

declaration in a clear, sonorous, sweet-toned voice, but her

hands trembled so excessively that I wonder she was able to read

the paper which she held. Lord Lansdowne made a little speech,

asking her permission to have the declaration made public. She

bowed assent, placed the paper in his hands, and then retired.

November 26th, 1839 {p.247}

The Queen wrote to all her family and announced her marriage to

them. When she saw the Duchess of Gloucester in town, and told

her she was to make her declaration the next day, the Duchess

asked her if it was not a nervous thing to do. She said, 'Yes;

but I did a much more nervous thing a little while ago.' 'What

was that?' 'I proposed to Prince Albert.'

The Duke of Cambridge hunted Brougham round the room, saying,

'Oh, by God, you wrote the letter; by God, you did it

yourself.'[11] Brougham is in a state of prodigious excitement.

He has had a reconciliation with Normanby, and another with

Durham--the first at Lady Clanricarde's, the other at Lady

Tankerville's, where they casually met. He was overflowing with

sentiment and eagerness to be friends with both.

[11] [Meaning the letter to Alfred Montgomery which

announced Lord Brougham's death.]

November 27th, 1839 {p.247}

The Queen settled everything about her marriage herself, and

without consulting Melbourne at all on the subject, not even

communicating to him her intentions. The reports were already

rife, while he was in ignorance; and at last he spoke to her,

told her that he could not be ignorant of the reports, nor could

she; that he did not presume to enquire what her intentions were,

but that it was his duty to tell her, that if she had any, it was

necessary that her Ministers should be apprised of them. She said

she had nothing to tell him, and about a fortnight afterwards she

informed him that the whole thing was settled. A curious

exhibition of her independence, and explains the apprehensions

which Lady Cowper has recently expressed to me of the serious

consequences which her determined character is likely to produce.

If she has already shaken off her dependence on Melbourne, and

begins to fly with her own wings, what will she not do when she

is older, and has to deal with Ministers whom she does not care

for, or whom she dislikes?

December 14th, 1839 {p.248}

I was at Oatlands a fortnight ago, where I met Croker--not

overbearing, and rather agreeable, though without having said

much that was peculiarly interesting. Two things struck me. He

said he dined and passed the evening _tête-à-tête_ with the Duke

of Wellington (then Sir Arthur Wellesley) before his departure

for Portugal to take the command of the army. He was then Irish

Secretary, and had committed to Croker's management the bills he

had to carry through Parliament. After dinner he was very

thoughtful, and did not speak. Croker said, 'Sir Arthur, you

don't talk; what is it you are thinking about?' He said, 'Of the

French. I have never seen them; they have beaten all Europe. I

think I shall beat them, but I can't help thinking about them.'

Another _tête-à-tête_ he had with the Duke was at the time of the

Reform Bill, when he went down with him for a week to

Strathfieldsaye, during which time he was more low-spirited and

silent than Croker said he ever saw him before or since. He

reproached himself for what he had done, particularly about

Catholic Emancipation, the repeal of the Test Act, and his

resignation in '30. Very curious this, not alluding among the

topics of self-reproach to his persevering and mischievous

opposition to the Emancipation, which he at length conceded in a

manner so fraught with future evil, however inevitable; nor to

his famous Anti-reform declaration, which, though containing

little if anything that was untrue, was so imprudent that its

effects were enormous and irretrievable. Such is the blindness,

the obstinate reluctance to the admission of error, which besets

even the wisest and the best men; for if the Duke of Wellington

could have divested his mind of prejudice, and reflected calmly

on the past, or looked over the political map of bygone events

with the practical sagacity he usually displayed, he never could

have failed to perceive the true causes of them. People often

take to themselves unmerited blame, to screen themselves from

that which they are conscious they deserve.

[Page Head: THE MAYOR OF NEWPORT AT COURT.]

On Monday last I went to Windsor for a Council. There we had Sir

Thomas Phillips, the Mayor of Newport, who came to be knighted.

They were going to knight him, and then dismiss him, but I

persuaded Normanby that it would be a wise and popular thing to

keep him there and load him with civilities--do good to the

Queen, encourage others to do their duty--and send him back

rejoicing to his province, to spread far and wide the fame of his

gracious reception. He said, that etiquette would not permit one

of his rank in life to be invited to the Royal table. I said,

that this was all nonsense: if he was good enough to come and be

knighted, he was good enough to dine there, and that it was a

little outlay for a large return. He was convinced; spoke to

Melbourne, who settled it, and Phillips stayed. Nothing could

answer better, everybody approved of it, and the man behaved as

if his whole life had been spent in Courts, perfectly at his ease

without rudeness or forwardness, quiet, unobtrusive, but with

complete self-possession, and a _nil admirari_ manner which had

something distinguished in it. The Queen was very civil to him,

and he was delighted. The next morning he went to Normanby, and

expressed his apprehension that he might not have conducted

himself as he ought, together with his grateful sense of his

reception; but the apology was quite needless.[12]

[12] [On the 4th November a Chartist riot occurred at

Newport in Monmouthshire. The leaders were John Frost

and Zephaniah Williams. The Mayor, Mr. T. Phillips,

behaved with great gallantry, and ordered the troops to

load. The mob, said to be 20,000 strong, first fired on

the troops, who then returned the fire with effect and

dispersed the assemblage. John Frost, the leader of

this disturbance, had unluckily been made a magistrate

by Lord John Russell some time before. His trial is

subsequently adverted to.]

December 25th, 1839 {p.250}

At Ampthill (Baron Parke's) last Friday. Took down with me David

Dundas, a Whig lawyer, and a very agreeable accomplished man,

plenty of pleasant talk. Went over to Wrest, Lord de Grey's new

house--built, decorated, and furnished by himself--and very

perfect in all ways. Heard on Sunday a Mr. Howorth preach--an

admirable preacher, who ought to be promoted in the Church, just

as Dundas ought in the State.[13]

[13] [Sir David Dundas afterwards became Solicitor-General

and declined a judgeship.]

December 31st, 1839 {p.250}

We are arrived at the end of the year, and the next will begin

with the Chartist trials. Parliament is about to meet. Parties

are violent, Government weak, everybody wondering what will

happen, nobody seeing their way clearly before them. The general

opinion is, that the Opposition mean to take the Government if

they can by storm, and will assault every weak point. The

weakest, to my mind, is John Russell's appointment of Frost to

the magistracy, which, if skilfully handled, may be brought

against him with great effect. Frost was appointed in pursuance

of a system Lord John chose to establish, for the purpose of

defeating the intentions of Parliament; and he did it upon his

own responsibility in spite of warnings against it, and now we

see some of the fruits of this policy. I told Normanby this, and

he owned the truth of it, and moreover he told me that the system

he found established by Lord John had proved very embarrassing to

him, as it was very difficult for him to throw it over, and

unless he did so he should be compelled to make, or sanction,

objectionable appointments. Such have been the consequences of

Lord John's unstatesmanlike and perhaps unconstitutional conduct,

adopted under the influence of resentment.

[Page Head: LORD CLARENDON TAKES OFFICE.]

Lord Clarendon, who has just joined the Government with a lively

sense of the tottering character of the concern he has entered,

is resolved, as far as his influence may avail, to urge them to

cast aside all attempts to catch votes, and cajole supporters, by

partial concessions and half-and-half measures, to look the

condition of affairs steadily in the face, and act in all things

according to the best of their minds and consciences, as if they

were as strong a Government as Pitt's, and without any regard to

consequences, so that they may either live usefully or die

honourably. This is the true course, and that which I have urged

him to enforce with all his credit. We had some talk about

foreign affairs. He thinks there is danger of Palmerston's

getting too closely connected with Russia, while keeping France

in check upon the complicated Eastern Question. He also spoke of

a curious pamphlet, just published by Marliani, a Spaniard, who

went in 1838 with Zea Bermudez on a mission to Berlin and Vienna,

stating that a proposal had been made to Austria for a marriage

between the young Queen of Spain and a son of the Archduke

Charles, by which the Austrian alliance and influence would again

be substituted for the French, and the object of the Family

Compact defeated; and that Metternich would have listened eagerly

to this if he had dared, and was only prevented and induced to

entreat the Spaniards to go away by his overwhelming dread of

Russian indignation.

January 14th, 1840 {p.251}

At Wrest for the last week. It is a new house built by Lord de

Grey, without architects or any professional aid, and a great

work for an amateur to have accomplished. Returned yesterday, and

found London beginning to fill for Parliament. Everybody asks his

neighbour, will the Government be able to go on--a question which

nobody pretends to answer on any good grounds of probability.

Electioneering casualties during the recess have brought the two

parties (supposing all the Whig alliance to cohere) nearer to an

equality than they were before, and they are so bitter against

each other, that the Tories will certainly drive the Ministry out

if they can, and take the chance of being themselves able to

govern. But with reference to the state of public affairs and the

composition of the Government, the Ministry presents a much more

respectable appearance than it has heretofore done; the Cabinet

contains men of character, of experience, and of great

acquirements, and Clarendon, who has just taken his seat among

them and has added to it a good diplomatic reputation, tells me

that they are not only very united, agreed in general principles,

and only differing to an extent that any thirteen men must

occasionally differ on particular points; but that they are as

Conservative a Cabinet as possible. And so, no doubt, they are in

their hearts and wishes, and so they would be, if the

Conservatives would allow them to keep their places, and give

them strength enough to maintain Conservative interests. It is

impossible to doubt that the best thing that could happen in the

present situation of the country would be the continuance in

office of the present Government, with the consent and

acquiescence of the Tories, so long as they administered the

government on just, moderate, and constitutional principles, and

with a full understanding that any departure therefrom would be

followed by their unrelenting hostility. But this would require a

large amount of patriotism and self-denial from a great party,

who, besides a consciousness of strength, have their minds full

of bitter animosity, and an impatience for party victory, and the

acquisition of official power; and in their eager desire for

revenge and triumph, they overlook all considerations, and are

ready to incur any risk and take all consequences.

As far as the state of public affairs is concerned, Ministers

have not at all a bad case to bring before the country. The great

interests, on which the eyes of the world have been fixed, are

prosperous and ably administered. Ebrington in Ireland, Auckland

in India, and now Poulett Thomson in Canada, have contributed in

their different ways to the favourable _exposé_ of the

Government, nor is there any point on which they are particularly

vulnerable, or any grave reproach to which they have rendered

themselves obnoxious. But all this will not avail to make them

strong, or render their tenure of office secure and permanent.

They are not popular, all parties distrust them, none believe

that they have any fixed principles from which no considerations

would induce them to swerve, and the unfortunate circumstances

under which they so improperly took office again in March last,

and their apparent wavering between antagonist principles, and

readiness to yield to pressure when they could not escape it,

have given a worse opinion of their character than they really

deserve.

January 17th, 1840 {p.253}

[Page Head: OPENING OF PARLIAMENT.]

Parliament met yesterday. The Queen was well enough received--

much better than usual--as she went to the House. The Speech was

harmless. Some had wished to have something about the Corn Laws

in it, but this was overruled by the majority. They said nothing

about Prince Albert's Protestantism, and very properly, for

though they might as well have done so in the Speech to the Privy

Council (merely not to give a handle to their opponents for

cavilling and clamouring), it would have been an acknowledgement

of error, and a knocking under to clamour, to do so now. The

Duke, however, moved an amendment, and foisted in the word

Protestant,--a sop to the silly. I was grieved to see him descend

to such miserable humbug, and was in hopes he was superior to it,

and would have rather put down the nonsense than have lent his

sanction to it. He is said to be very well, strong in body and

clear in mind, but I fully expect that he will give, in the

course of this Session, evident proofs of the falling-off of his

mind.

In the House of Commons they are bent upon mischief, and speedy

mischief; for Sir J. Yarde Buller gave notice directly of a

motion of want of confidence, so that the strength of the two

parties will be tested forthwith. This was a regular concerted

party move, and took their opponents completely by surprise. It

proceeds from the boiling impatience of the party, indoors and

out. The Tory masses complain that nothing is done; and so, to

gratify them, an immediate assault is resolved upon. Lord

Wharncliffe said to me yesterday morning that the real obstacle

to the Tories coming into office was the Queen. This was the only

difficulty; but her antipathy to Peel rendered him exceedingly

reluctant to take office, and there were many among the party who

felt scruples in forcing an obnoxious Ministry upon her. This is,

in fact, the real Tory principle, but I doubt many of the Tories

being influenced by it.

Bradshaw[14] and Horsman went out yesterday morning. The former

called out the latter on account of a speech at Cockermouth, in

which, in allusion to the famous Canterbury _Victorippick_, he

had said that Bradshaw had the tongue of a traitor and the heart

of a coward. Though six weeks had elapsed between the speech and

the challenge, Horsman did go out, and they exchanged shots;

after which Bradshaw made a sort of stingy apology for his

insults to the Queen, and the other an apology for his offensive

expressions. Gurwood went out with Bradshaw, which he had better

not have done.[15] He said, 'he had never read Bradshaw's speech,

and was ignorant what he had said.' As Gurwood is a man of honour

and veracity, this must be true; but it is passing strange that

he alone should not have read what everybody else has been

talking about for the last two months, and that he should go out

with a man as his second on account of words spoken, and not

enquire what they were.

[14] [Mr. Bradshaw had used very unbecoming and disloyal

language in speaking of the Queen at a public dinner or

meeting at Canterbury some weeks before. Mr. Horsman, a

strong Whig, and Member for Cockermouth, had censured

Bradshaw for his disloyalty--hence this strange duel.]

[15] [Colonel Gurwood, the Duke of Wellington's confidential

friend, and editor of his Despatches, had just been

appointed to the Governorship of the Tower.]

January 18th, 1840 {p.254}

[Page Head: HORSMAN AND BRADSHAW DUEL.]

Everybody talks of this duel, and the Whigs abuse Gurwood, and

accuse him of ingratitude, for having acted for Bradshaw in such

a quarrel, when he has just been loaded with favours--a pension

and a place; for, though the latter was given by the Duke of

Wellington, it was with the concurrence of Government, who might

either have reduced his salary or taken away his pension, and did

neither. Gurwood has acquired a title to public gratitude by

being instrumental to the publication of the Wellington

Despatches; but he is a silly fellow; his conduct in this duel

shows it. He certainly ought to have declined to meddle; but he

told George Anson (who was Horsman's second) he never did decline

when asked; and he not only said he had never read Bradshaw's

speech, but when George Anson offered to show it to him he

refused to read it. I should have declined discussing the matter

with him unless he did read it. Bradshaw behaved very well. After

the shots, Gurwood asked if Horsman would retract. Anson said,

'No, not till Bradshaw did, or apologised.' Gurwood then said to

Anson, 'Will you propose to him to do so? I cannot.' So he did.

Bradshaw was deeply affected; owned he had been miserable ever

since; said he could not live without honour, but would say

anything that Anson and Gurwood (and he felt his honour as safe

with the former as the latter) would agree that he could and

ought to say; and George Anson drew up his apology, and did not

make it stronger, because he would not press him hard. The fact

is, he is much indebted to Horsman for getting him out, in some

measure, of a very bad scrape.

The Queen has been attacked for going down in person to

Parliament, just after the news arriving of the Landgravine's

death; but she consulted her relations, the Princess Augusta

particularly, who advised her to go, said it was a public duty,

and that they had all been brought up in the doctrine that the

discharge of the duties of their station was to supersede

everything. So she went.

I met Burge[16] this morning, who is very much disgusted at no

mention being made of Jamaica in the Speech, and at the speech of

John Russell; who, in alluding to the omission, spoke very

disparagingly of the Assembly, or at least, what will there

appear so. But he admits, nevertheless, that Lord John Russell is

by far the best Secretary of State he ever had to deal with, and

that in his general conduct towards the island they have ample

cause for satisfaction.

[16] [William Burge, Esq., Q.C., for many years agent for

the island of Jamaica, and author of a valuable work

entitled 'Commentaries on Colonial Law.']

January 22nd, 1840 {p.255}

Dined at Lady Blessington's the day before yesterday: a queer

_omnium gatherum_ party--Prince Louis Napoleon, General

Montholon, Lord Lyndhurst, Brougham, Sir Robert Wilson, Leader,

and Roebuck. Droll to see Lyndhurst, the most execrated of the

Tories, hand-and-glove, and cracking his jokes, with the two

Radicals. After dinner I had a talk with him. He said the Duke

had been all against the motion on the 28th, but that unless they

had agreed to it, the party would have been broken up; said he

did not care about coming in. If they did, a dissolution would

give them a majority of sixty, but that this would not enable

them to stand against the Queen's hostility and determination to

trip up their heels whenever she could;[17] that the Opposition

would become more Radical, the Queen herself Radical; they should

be driven out, and the country ruined. He thought the Duke strong

in body and clear in mind, but more excitable. I said I thought

that to those who knew him a change was perceptible; that it was

impossible to cite any particular thing in proof of it; but that

conversation with him left such an impression. Lyndhurst replied

that this was exactly his own opinion, but that the Duke's

authority with the party was undiminished, and indispensably

necessary to keep them together. The Tories are very angry with

Peel for taking such a strong part as he has done on the

Privilege question, which nothing but his influence prevents

their turning into a regular party debate. The House has gone

floundering on upon it, wasting a great deal of time and

ingenious speaking, and having got into a difficulty from which

there is no convenient extrication.

[17] [A very erroneous prediction. They did come in in the

following year, and the Queen gave her entire

confidence and support to Sir Robert Peel's

Government.]

The Judges are much censured for their behaviour at Newport:[18]

first, for not themselves deciding the point that was raised;

next, for not asking the jury for the reasons of their

recommending the criminals to mercy; and the Chief Justice's

charge to the jury was thought a very weak and poor performance.

[18] [This relates to the trial of Frost and others by a

Special Commission at Newport for the riots of the

preceding year.]

Yesterday morning[19] the Duke of Bedford came to me, to beg I

would suggest some Lord for the situation of Chief of Prince

Albert's establishment, for they can get none who is eligible.

They want a Peer, a Whig, and a man of good sense, character and

education, something rather better than common, and such an one

willing to put on Court trappings they find not easily to be had.

We made out a list, to be shown to Melbourne, who had consulted

the Duke of Bedford, and asked him for a man. We talked over the

bitter hostility between the Queen and the Tories, and he said,

that Melbourne did everything he could to mitigate her feelings,

and to make her understand that she must not involve the whole

party in the reproach which justly attaches to a few foolish or

mischievous zealots, so much so that lately when the Queen was

inveighing against the Tories to somebody (he would not say to

whom), and complaining of their behaviour to her, she added, 'It

is very odd, but I cannot get Lord Melbourne to see it in that

light.'

[19] John, sixth Duke of Bedford, had died on the 20th

October, 1839, and my friend Tavistock had become Duke

of Bedford.

January 24th, 1840

[Page Head: THE PRIVILEGE QUESTION.]

The Privilege question[20] occupies everybody's thoughts, and

there is much interest and curiosity to see the sequel of it. The

state of the House of Commons upon it is curious: all the Whigs

for Privilege, and the chiefs of the Tories with them; with some

of the lawyers (except Sugden) the same way; but Follett, who at

first was heartily with Peel, has latterly taken no part, though

he has voted with the majority. On the other side are the great

bulk of the Tories and all the second-rate lawyers--the only

eminent ones that way being Sugden, Pemberton, and Kelly. The

debates have elicited some admirable speeches on both sides, of

which Peel's three nights ago, when he explained the law better

than the lawyers could, has been the most remarkable. The Tories

are very angry with him for taking it up so warmly, and they will

not be the more pleased at the complimentary speech of John

Russell, in which he told him that nothing but his taking the

course he had done had enabled the House to assert its privilege

at all, as it could not have been made a mere party question. The

Government are getting into better spirits about their prospects,

and so many of the Tories acknowledge that there would be danger

and difficulty in changes just now, that there will probably be

none. Mr. Walter was beaten hollow in Southwark in spite of an

Anti-Poor Law cry, by the help of which his friends were very

sanguine about his success.

[20] [The Privilege question arose out of a prosecution of

Messrs. Hansard by one Stockdale, for the publication

of a libel on himself in the Parliamentary Debates.

Hansard pleaded the authority of Parliament, but the

Court of Queen's Bench rejected the plea and gave

judgement against Hansard. The House of Commons, on the

motion of Lord John Russell, who was supported by Sir

R. Peel, defended their printers, and committed the

Sheriffs of London for levying damages on Hansard. Peel

afterwards acknowledged that he had been misled by the

advice of Sir F. Pollock and had gone too far; in fact,

it appears from the text that the weight of legal

authority was against him. The dispute was settled at

last by legislation. See _infra_, February 21st, 1840.]

January 26th, 1840 {p.258}

The Government are triumphant at all their elections, and raised

to the skies by their success, which they construe into an

indication of reaction in their favour. It is certainly a great

thing for them, for it produces a good moral effect, besides the

influence it will have on the division next week, and it tends to

show that if a dissolution were to take place, the Conservatives

would not be in so much better, nor the Whigs in so much worse a

position, as the former have been for some time boasting of, and

the latter apprehending. Everybody (except those who have an

interest in defending it) thinks the allowance proposed for

Prince Albert very exorbitant: £50,000 a year given for pocket

money is quite monstrous, and it would have been prudent to

propose a more moderate grant for the sake of his popularity.

Prince George of Denmark had £50,000 a year (as it is said), but

the Queen gave it him, and he had a household four times more

numerous than is intended for Prince Albert.

January 29th, 1840 {p.258}

On Monday night Government were beaten by 104 on the question of

reducing the Prince's allowance from £50,000 to £30,000 a year.

They knew they should be beaten, but nevertheless John Russell

would go doggedly on and encounter this mortifying defeat,

instead of giving way with the best grace he could. He lost his

temper, and flung dirt at Peel, like a sulky boy flinging rotten

eggs; in short, exposed himself sadly. His friends were much

annoyed that he did not give way, as soon as he found that there

was no chance of carrying it, and that many Government supporters

would vote against it; besides the mortification to the Prince,

there was something mean and sordid in squabbling for all the

money they could get, and the sum given him is _satis superque_

for all his wants.

[Page Head: NATURALISATION OF PRINCE ALBERT.]

In the Lords, they introduced the Naturalisation Bill in such a

slovenly and objectionable form, that the Duke desired it might

be put off, which (although he pledged and committed himself in

no manner) they immediately construed into a resolution to oppose

the Precedence part of it. The Queen is bent upon giving him

precedence of the whole Royal Family. The Dukes of Sussex and

Cambridge, who each want some additions to their incomes, have

signified their consent; the King of Hanover (whom it does not

immediately concern) has refused his. On this they brought in

their Bill. Her Majesty was, however, more provoked at what

passed in the House of Lords, than at the defeat in the Commons.

I asked Charles Gore why John Russell did not avail himself of

the momentary connexion he had with Peel on the Privilege

question, to ask him what his views were about the allowance, and

tell him that it was so desirable to avoid any division on such a

question that he wished to propose nothing that was likely to be

objected to. Gore said that upon a former occasion, when Lord

John had spoken in such a spirit to Peel, he had been met by him

in such an ungracious manner that it was impossible for him ever

to do so again. This was about the Speakership, when he wrote a

private note to Peel, beginning 'My dear Sir,' and asking him to

tell him what the intentions of his party were about opposing the

Government Speaker, because he was anxious if possible not to

bring people up to town without necessity; to which he replied in

the coldest and driest terms, 'Sir Robert Peel presents his

compliments to Lord John Russell,' expressing his surprise at his

letter, saying he had no right to call upon him for any

explanation of his intentions, and refusing to give any

information whatever. I do not think John Russell had any right

to make such a communication to him, and it was, I fancy, very

unusual, but Peel might as well have answered it good-humouredly.

The judges have given their decision upon the two points raised

for the Newport prisoners,[21] and their fate now rests with the

Government. They decided, by a majority of nine to six, that the

objection was valid, and by nine to six that it was not taken in

time. Upon such accidents do the lives of men depend. It is well

known that the law can have no certainty, because so much must

always be left to the discretion of those who administer it; but

such striking illustrations of its uncertainty, and of the extent

to which the chapter of accidents is concerned in it, seldom

occur, and make one shudder when they do.[22] No doubt, however,

is cast over the guilt of the men, and the Government may very

properly leave them to their fate, if they are not afraid of

shocking public opinion by doing so. The world at large does not

distinguish accurately or reason justly, swallows facts in gross,

and jumps to conclusions. Many will say it is hard to put men to

death when the judges are nearly equally divided on their case,

the majority admitting that the law would save them if it had

been urged soon enough in their favour. It rather seems to turn

the tables on the prosecution; and whereas the prisoners are

availing themselves of a mere quibble, of a technical objection,

strained to its extremest point, the effect may be that of

exhibiting the Government as availing itself of the technicality

in point of time to overthrow the more important legal objection.

The case appears to have been very ably argued, especially by

Kelly.

[21] [The ringleaders in the Newport riots were convicted

and might have been hanged; but two technical

objections to the sentence having been taken, though

not allowed by the judges, the Government remitted the

capital sentence. They had a narrow escape.]

[22] Parke said, that if the objection had been decided on

the spot they would have escaped, as he and Williams

were for it, while the Chief Justice was against it.

January 30th, 1840 {p.260}

The great debate in the House of Commons has now lasted two

nights,[23] without being very interesting. Sir George Grey made

a brisk, dashing speech quite at the beginning, which was very

effective, but when read, disappoints, as there does not seem a

great deal in it. Last night Macaulay failed. He delivered an

essay, not without merit, but inapplicable, and not the sort of

thing that is wanted in such a debate. He had said he should not

be of use to them, and he appears to have judged correctly. The

Tories affected to treat his speech with contempt, and to talk

and laugh, which was a rudeness worthy of the noisy and ignorant

knot that constitutes the tail of that party. Howick attacked

everybody all round, and explained his own motive for leaving

office, not alluding to the Secretary of State's office; and

Graham made one of his usual speeches.

[23] [Sir John Yarde Buller moved a resolution that 'Her

Majesty's Government, as at present constituted, does

not possess the confidence of this House,' which was

defeated after a long debate by 308 votes to 287.]

January 31st, 1840 {p.261}

Macaulay's speech, which was said to be a failure, reads better

than Sir George Grey's, which met with the greatest success--the

one fell flat upon the audience, while the other was singularly

effective. So great is the difference between good manner and

bad, and between the effect produced by a dashing, vivacious,

light, and active style, and a ponderous didactic eloquence, full

of matter, but not suited in arrangement or delivery, and in all

its accessory parts, to the taste of the House.

[Page Head: THE MONMOUTH CONVICTS.]

The question of sparing the lives of the Monmouth prisoners or

not is everywhere discussed, with an almost general opinion that,

under all the circumstances, the Government cannot let the law

take its course. It is impossible for any reasoning to be more

fallacious, because, if pushed to its just conclusion, it must

result that they ought to escape altogether, which nobody expects

or desires. The case has been very curious from the beginning;

and end how it may, no criminals ever had so many chances

afforded them of escape; never were there nicer points for the

decision of different people or different stages of the business,

or more blunders committed by almost all concerned. In the first

place, Maule, the Crown solicitor, failed to comply with the

letter of the Act, and did not furnish the prisoners with lists

of the jury and the witnesses _at the same time_ ten days before

the trial. He gave them one list ten days before, and the other

fifteen days before. The Attorney-General was aware of the fact,

and aware that a question would arise upon it; the judges

appointed to the special Commission were apprised of it by their

Associates, and they communicated with each other upon it. They

considered whether they should convey the expression of their

doubts upon this point to the Government, so that the difficulty

might be rectified; but they agreed that their duty was to try

the cause, and not to interfere in any way whatever, and they

accordingly held their peace. It was in the power of the

Attorney-General to postpone the trial for ten days, which would

have removed every difficulty and objection, but he was so

certain that the objection could not be maintained, that he would

not do so, and chose to run the risk, unwisely, as it has turned

out. The trial came on, and the counsel for the prisoners,

instead of urging the objection _in limine_, suffered them to

plead; whereas, if they had refused to plead, they would have

escaped altogether.[24] The trial proceeded; they were found

guilty, and recommended to mercy, but the Chief Justice never

asked the jury upon what grounds, leaving it doubtful whether the

jury thought that there were any extenuating circumstances, or

whether they were actuated by terror, or mere repugnance to the

infliction of capital punishment. It was probably the great

importance of the case, and the fact of the Chief of the

Commission being against the objection, which induced the other

two who were in its favour to agree to refer it to the other

judges; for if it had been settled on the spot the trials would

have ended at once. Moreover it was believed that the judges

thought very lightly of the objection, and Brougham told me they

were _unanimous_, so ill-informed was he of their real opinions.

[24] This is not so. If they had raised the objection before

the prisoners pleaded, the Attorney-General could have

put the trial off, and of course if the judges thought

the objection valid, he would have done so.

[Page Head: THE PRECEDENCE OF PRINCE ALBERT.]

Yesterday morning I met Lord FitzGerald, when we walked together,

and I begged him to find some expedient for settling _à

l'amiable_ the question of Precedence, so as to pacify the Queen

if possible, who was much excited about it. He spoke very

despondingly of the general state of affairs, but said that he

was as anxious as anybody to avoid unpleasant discussions upon

it, and to satisfy her if possible, but that the House of Lords

were running breast high upon it. I begged him to see the Duke of

Wellington, to tell him what her feeling was, and entreat him to

take measures to settle it quietly. He said he would see him, and

that he was convinced if the Duke had his own way, he would be

disposed to do this; but that if it was left to Lyndhurst and

Ellenborough, it was impossible to answer for what they might do.

His own impression was, that they might and ought to give him

precedence for her life over the rest of the Royal Family (though

it was very awkward with regard to the King of Hanover, when he

refused his consent), but not over a Prince of Wales, to which,

he thought, they never would consent. We talked the matter over

in all its bearings, and the result was, that he undertook to go

to the Duke and tell him what I had said. I had (not an hour ago)

a confirmation of what he said as to Ellenborough, for I met him

at his own door (next mine), when I said to him, 'What are you

going to do about the precedence?' To which he said, 'Oh, give

him the same which Prince George of Denmark had: place him next

before the Archbishop of Canterbury.' I said, 'That will by no

means satisfy the Queen;' at which he tossed up his head, and

said, 'What does that signify?'

FitzGerald afterwards talked to me of Peel and his party, of

their violent language on account of his conduct in the Privilege

question, and of his annoyance at their separation from him--not

the lawyers, or those really competent to form an opinion, but

the great mass destitute of the knowledge or understanding

necessary to form an opinion--and only opposing him because he

supported John Russell. Amongst other things, when we were

talking of the event of May last, and of the Queen's antipathy to

Peel, he said that it was altogether unaccountable, for even from

his last interview he had come away not dissatisfied with her

manner, and he owned that he had no doubt Melbourne did his best

honestly to drive out of her mind the prejudices which have so

great an influence upon her; and at that very crisis, he told me

as a proof of it, that at the ball at Court, Melbourne went up to

Peel and whispered to him with the greatest earnestness, 'For

God's sake, go and speak to the Queen.' Peel did not go, but the

entreaty and the refusal were both characteristic. FitzGerald

said, that nothing would induce Peel to continue (after this

fight) a worrying war with the Government; and added, what is

very true, that though a weak Opposition was a very bad thing,

there was no small danger and difficulty in leading a strong one.

February 4th, 1840 {p.264}

After four nights' debate and division, at five in the morning,

Government got a majority of twenty-one, just what was (at last)

expected. Peel spoke for three hours, and so elaborately as to

fatigue the House, so that his speech probably seems much better

to the reader than to the hearer of it. The Opposition all along

abstained from attacking the Government upon their measures, and

Peel directed his artillery against their compromise of principle

in making Ballot an open question, and the general laxity of

their political morality. But the most important part of his

speech was his declaration of the principles by which he meant to

be governed in office or out; and his manly and distinct

announcement to his followers, that they must support him on his

own terms, and that if they did not like them, he was sorry for

it, and they might look elsewhere for a leader if they chose it.

There can be no doubt that it was wise and bold thus to cast

himself on public opinion, and to put forth a manifesto, which

leaves no doubt of his future conduct, and from which there is no

retreat for him, and by which all his adherents must be equally

bound. On the other hand, Lord John, considering he rose at three

in the morning, when he and the House must have been pretty well

exhausted, made a very good and honourable speech, and ended with

a declaration quite as Conservative as Peel's was on the other

hand Liberal, so much so that it is really difficult to say what

difference there now is between them, nor does there appear any

reason why (circumstances permitting) they should not act

together to-morrow. As far as the two _parties_ are concerned,

taking debate and division, perhaps no great advantage has been

gained by either, but I think the discussion has been beneficial

by eliciting the above declaration from the respective leaders.

[Page Head: ROYAL PRECEDENCE REFUSED.]

The Precedence Question has fallen to the ground, and is left

unsettled, in a manner much to be regretted. After my interview

with FitzGerald, I went to Clarendon and told him what had

passed. He went to the Cabinet, and prevailed on Duncannon to

speak to Melbourne and get him to communicate with the Duke, for

the purpose of settling the question if possible amicably.

Melbourne said he would, but did not. On Friday the Cabinet

agreed to give up the precedence over the Prince of Wales; but to

a question of Brougham's the Chancellor said, he had no other

concession to offer. It was then agreed that the discussion

should be taken on Monday. On Saturday Clarendon spoke to

Melbourne himself, and urged him to consider seriously the

inconvenience of a battle on this point, and prevailed upon him

to go to the Duke of Wellington and talk it over with him. He

wrote to the Duke, who immediately agreed to receive him; when he

went to Apsley House, and they had an hour's conversation.

Melbourne found him with one of his very stiffest crotchets in

his head, determined only to give the Prince precedence after the

Royal Family; and all he could get from him was, that it would be

_unjust_ to do more. All argument was unavailing, and he left him

on Saturday evening without having been able to make any

impression on him, or to move him by a representation of the

Queen's feelings to make concessions to meet those the Government

were prepared to make; for the Queen would have been content to

accept precedence for her life, and saving the rights of the

Prince of Wales. This, however, they would not consent to; and so

determined were they to carry their point, that they made a grand

whip up, and brought Lord Clare all the way from Grimsthorpe, to

vote upon it. Under these circumstances the Government resolved

to withdraw the clause, and they did so, thus leaving the Prince

without any specific place assigned by Parliament, and it remains

with the Queen to do what she can for him, or for courtesy, tacit

consent, and deference for her Consort to give him the precedence

virtually which the House of Lords refuses to bestow formally. I

think the Duke has acted strangely in this matter, and the

Conservatives generally very unwisely. _Volentibus non fit

injuria_, and the Dukes of Sussex and Cambridge, who alone were

concerned, had consented to the Prince's precedence. The King of

Hanover, it seems, was never applied to because they knew he

would have refused; and they did not deem his consent necessary.

There is no great sympathy for the lucky Coburgs in this country,

but there is still less for King Ernest, and it will have all the

effect of being a slight to the Queen out of a desire to gratify

him. There certainly was not room for much more dislike in her

mind of the Tories; but it was useless to give the Prince so

ungracious and uncordial a reception, and to render him as

inimical to them as she already is. As an abstract question, I

think his precedence unnecessary; but under all the circumstances

it would have been expedient and not at all unjust to grant it.

February 13th, 1840 {p.266}

The discussion about the Precedence question induced me to look

into the authorities and the ancient practice, and to give the

subject some consideration. I came to the conclusion that she has

the power to give him precedence everywhere but in Parliament and

in Council, and on the whole that _her husband_ ought to have

precedence. So I wrote a pamphlet upon it, setting forth the

result of my enquiry and my opinion. I have been in many minds

about publishing it, and I believe I shall, though it is

certainly not worth much.

[Page Head: THE QUEEN'S MARRIAGE.]

The wedding on Monday went off tolerably well.[25] The week

before was fine, and Albert drove about the town with a mob

shouting at his heels. Tuesday, Wednesday, and to-day, all

beautiful days; but Monday, as if by a malignant influence, was a

dreadful day--torrents of rain, and violent gusts of wind.

Nevertheless a countless multitude thronged the park, and was

scattered over the town. I never beheld such a congregation as

there was, in spite of the weather. The Queen proceeded in state

from Buckingham House to St. James's without any cheering, but

then it was raining enough to damp warmer loyalty than that of a

London mob. The procession in the Palace was pretty enough by all

accounts, and she went through the ceremony with much grace and

propriety, not without emotion, though sufficiently subdued, and

her manner to her family was very pretty and becoming. Upon

leaving the Palace for Windsor she and her young husband were

pretty well received; but they went off in a very poor and shabby

style. Instead of the new chariot in which most married people

are accustomed to dash along, they were in one of the old

travelling coaches, the postilions in undress liveries, and with

a small escort, three other coaches with post-horses following.

The crowds on the road were so great that they did not reach the

Castle till eight o'clock.

[25] [Queen Victoria was married to Prince Albert of Saxe-

Coburg-Gotha on the 10th February, 1840.]

February 15th (Saturday), 1840 {p.267}

The Duke of Wellington had a serious seizure on Thursday.[26] He

dines early, and he rode out after dinner. The first symptom of

something wrong was, that he could not make out the numbers on

the doors of the houses he wanted to call at. He went to Lady

Burghersh, and when he came away, the footman told his groom he

was sure his Grace was not well, and advised him to be very

attentive to him. Many people were struck with the odd way he sat

on his horse. As he went home this got more apparent. When not

far from Apsley House he dropped the reins out of his left hand,

but took them up with the other, and when he got to his own door,

he found he could not get off his horse. He felt his hand

chilled. This has been the first symptom in each of his three

attacks. He was helped off. Hume was sent for, came directly, and

got him to bed. He had a succession of violent convulsions, was

speechless, and his arm was affected. They thought he would have

died in the night. The doctors came, physicked but did not bleed

him, and yesterday morning he was better. He has continued to

mend ever since, but it was a desperate blow, and offers a sad

prospect. He will probably again rally, but these things must be

always impending, and his mind must be affected, and will be

thought to be so. Lyndhurst asked me last night what could be

done. He said, 'The Duke ought now to retire from public life,

and not expose himself to any appearance of an enfeebled

understanding. Above all things to be deprecated is, that he

should ever become a dotard like Marlborough, or a driveller like

Swift.' 'How,' he said, 'would Aberdeen do?' He owned that nobody

could replace the Duke or keep the party in order, and he said

that the consequence would be it would break up, that '_there are

many who would be glad of an opportunity to leave it_.' This I

told him I did not believe, but it certainly is impossible to

calculate on the consequences of the Duke's death, or, what is

nearly the same thing, his withdrawal from the lead of the party.

[26] [The Duke was seventy when he had this seizure,

supposed at the time to be fatal, at least to his

faculties. But he lived for twelve years after it and

continued during the greater part of that time to

render great public services and to lead the Tory

party.]

February 16th, 1840 {p.268}

The Duke of Wellington, although his life was in such danger on

Thursday night, that the chances were he would die, has thrown

off his attack in a marvellous manner, and is now rapidly

approaching to convalescence, all dangerous symptoms subsiding.

The doctors, both Astley Cooper and Chambers, declare that they

have never seen such an extraordinary power of rallying in

anybody before in the whole course of their practice, and they

expect that he will be quite as well again as he was before. It

is remarkable that he has an accurate recollection of all the

steps of his illness from the first perception of uneasy

sensations to the moment of being seized with convulsions. He

first felt a chillness in his hand, and he was surprised to find

himself passing and repassing Lady Burghersh's house without

knowing which it was. He called, however, and went up; and to her

enquiry--for she was struck with his manner--he replied that he

was quite well. Going home he dropped the rein, but caught it up

with the other hand. When he arrived at his door, the servants

saw he could not get off his horse, and helped him, and one of

them ran off instantly for Hume. The Duke walked into his

sitting-room, where Hume found him groaning, and standing by the

chimney-piece. He got him to bed directly, and soon after the

convulsions came on.

[Page Head: PAMPHLET ON ROYAL PRECEDENCE.]

I have sent forth my pamphlet, and there seems a chance of its

being read. Lord Melbourne said to me, 'What is to be done about

this Precedence?' I said, 'I have told you[27] what I think is to

be done. Have you sent my pamphlet to the Queen?' 'I have sent it

her, and desired her to show it to Prince Albert; and I have sent

it to the Chancellor, and desired him to give me his opinion on

the law, as it requires great consideration and great care.'[28]

I asked him, 'if he had any doubt about the law, that is, about

_my_ law.' He said, 'he had doubts whether the Act of Henry VIII.

was not more stringent.' I told him I had consulted Parke,

Bosanquet, and Erskine, that we had read the Act together, and

they were all clear that the Prerogative was not limited except

as to Parliament and the Council. At all events, I said, he ought

not to be made a Privy Councillor till after this matter was

settled, and to that he agreed; and it was settled that he should

not be sworn at the Council to-morrow. So thus it stands, and if

the Chancellor sees no objection, my plan will be adopted, and I

shall have settled for them, having no earthly thing to do with

it, what they ought to have settled for themselves long ago, and

have avoided all the squabbling and bad blood which have been the

result of their unlucky Bill. In the meantime the Duke read my

pamphlet yesterday, and to-day I went there to hear what he said

to it, and found that he agreed with me entirely, and that he is

all for the adoption of my suggestion. This I forthwith

despatched to Clarendon, who was gone to the Levée, and desired

him to tell Melbourne of it.

[27] I had already sent my pamphlet to Melbourne and to a

few other people.

[28] [Mr. Greville contended in his pamphlet that the Act of

Henry VIII. for 'Placing the Lords' applied only to

their precedence in the House of Lords and in the Privy

Council, which being statutory could not be changed;

but that it was competent to the Crown to confer any

precedence elsewhere. Prince Albert was not a Peer, and

he was not at this time a Privy Councillor; therefore,

the provisions of the statutes of Henry VIII. did not

apply to him. He was subsequently introduced into the

Privy Council, where by courtesy rank was given him

next the Queen when no other member of the Royal Family

was present. As this pamphlet has some legal and

historical interest, it is reprinted in the Appendix to

this volume.]

February 21st, 1840 {p.270}

On Thursday morning I got a note from Arbuthnot, desiring I would

call at Apsley House. When I got there, he told me that the Duke

of Cambridge had sent for Lord Lyndhurst to consult him; that

they were invited to meet the Queen on Friday at the Queen

Dowager's, and he wanted to know what he was to do about giving

precedence to Prince Albert. Lord Lyndhurst came to Apsley House

and saw the Duke about it, and they agreed to report to the Duke

of Cambridge their joint opinion that the Queen had an

unquestionable right to give him any precedence she pleased, and

that he had better concede it without making any difficulty. The

Duke acquiesced, and accepted the invitation. Melbourne told me

the Queen was well satisfied with my pamphlet, but 'she remarked

that there was a very high compliment to the Duke of Wellington

at the end of it.' I asked if she had said it was a _just one_.

He said, 'No, she did not say that.'

[Page Head: BILL ON THE PRIVILEGE QUESTION.]

I heard from Arbuthnot this morning that the Duke has set his

face resolutely against any Bill in the House of Lords to settle

the Privilege question; and that Lyndhurst, though not so strong

in his opinion as the Duke, is resolved to abide by his

determination, and to go with him. The Duke, in fact, goes as far

as any of the opponents of the Privilege, for he not only thinks

that the dicta of the Judges are not to be questioned, but that

the House of Commons ought not to have the Privilege at all--that

is, that their papers ought not to be sold, and that they ought

not to be circulated without anything being previously weeded out

of them which the law would consider libellous. This strong

opinion of his renders the question exceedingly difficult and

embarrassing, for it was become very clear that nothing but the

intervention of the House of Lords could untie so ravelled a

knot. All the Tories are in a state of mingled rage and despair

at the impetuosity with which Peel has plunged into this matter,

and at the irretrievable manner in which he has identified

himself with Lord John Russell upon it. Stanley and Graham have

always voted with him, but have never once opened their lips,

from which it is sufficiently clear that they don't go nearly so

far as he does, and now Graham is acting as a sort of mediator

and negotiator, to try and effect some compromise or arrangement,

but the case seems nearly hopeless. Peel, on the other hand, is

evidently as much annoyed and provoked with his party as his

party with him. The other day, Arbuthnot, Peel, and Graham met at

Apsley House, and talked upon every subject, Arbuthnot told me,

but that of Privilege, on which none of them touched--a pretty

clear proof how tender the ground is become. The Tory press has

grown very violent, and treats Peel with no more forbearance for

his conduct on this question than the Whig and Radical did John

Russell for his speech about Church rates; so rabid and

unscrupulous are all Ultras of whatever opinion. I told Melbourne

how matters stood, at which he seemed mightily disconcerted.

February 25th, 1840 {p.271}

Yesterday I saw the Duke of Wellington, whom I had not seen for

above six months, except for a moment at the Council just after

his first illness. He looked better than I expected--very thin,

and his clothes hanging about him, but strong on his legs, and

his head erect. The great alteration I remarked was in his voice,

which was hollow, though loud, and his utterance, which, though

not indistinct, was very slow. He is certainly now only a ruin.

He is gone to receive the Judges at Strathfieldsaye, and he will

go on again when he comes back to town, and hold on while he can.

It is his desire to die with the harness on his back, and he

cannot endure the notion of retirement and care of his life,

which is only valuable to him while he can exert it in active

pursuits. I doubt if he could live in retirement and inactivity--

the life of a valetudinarian.

Besides the Precedence question, another is now raised about the

Liturgy. The Queen wants to insert the Prince's name in it; they

sent to me to know if Prince George's (of Denmark) had been

inserted, and I found it had not. There was a division of

opinion, but the majority of the Cabinet were disposed to put in

Prince Albert's. Before deciding anything they consulted the

Archbishop of Canterbury. Yesterday, however, on looking into the

Act of Uniformity, I satisfied myself that the Queen has not the

power to insert his name; and I believe that the insertion, on

former occasions, of Princesses of Wales was illegal, and could

not have been sustained if it ever had been questioned. This I

imparted to Lords Lansdowne and Clarendon, to deal with the fact

as they pleased; and I asked the opinions of Parke, Bosanquet,

and Lushington, who were sitting at the Judicial Committee, and

they all agreed that she had not the power, under the 25th sec.

of the Act of Uniformity.

March 5th, 1840 {p.272}

The Duke of Wellington returned to town; went up with the Oxford

address, and dines at the Palace on Monday. So he is again in

harness; but he is a broken man, and I fear we shall see him show

himself in eclipse, which will be a sorry sight. He has consented

to waive his objections to the settlement by Bill of the

Privilege question, so it probably will be settled; and high time

it is that it should be. It is curious to see how little interest

the public takes in it, not caring a straw for the House of

Commons, or the sheriffs, and regarding the squabble with extreme

apathy. There has been a great delay in getting ready the patent

of precedence for Prince Albert, because the law officers can't

make up their minds as to the terms of it, and whether

exceptional words should be introduced or not. My pamphlet has

succeeded far beyond my hopes or expectations, and got me many

compliments, which I never looked for from such a trifle. Peel

said civil things to FitzGerald about it; only the Royal Family

and the Cambridges don't like it, on account of my having

explained the status of Prince George (of Cambridge); and they

fancy, in the event of his going to Germany, it might be

injurious to him, which seems very fanciful; but their pride is

hurt.

March 6th, 1840 {p.273}

[Page Head: JUDICIAL COMMITTEE BILL.]

The Chancellor spoke to me at the Council on Thursday about his

Judicial Committee[29] Amendment Bill, and begged to have any

information about practice, and any suggestions, I could give

him. Some of the provisions of his Bill appeared objectionable,

and I consulted Dr. Lushington about it. He agreed, particularly

as to the plan of making the Master of the Rolls (as Vice-

President) the organ of the court, and making it imperative on

him to give judgement in all cases. Yesterday I went to the

Chancellor and told him the objections to which I thought his

plan was liable, which he received very candidly and thankfully,

and seemed only anxious to hear and consider anything that could

be suggested. He is very different from Brougham, who, when he

framed the original Bill, was full of tricks and mystery, and

tried to make a job of it and create patronage for himself,

besides being very obstinate about the details which were then

objected to. The Chancellor said he would send me the Bill, which

he wished me to examine, and return with any observations I

thought fit.

[29] [This Bill with reference to the Judicial Committee of

the Privy Council did not pass. It would have made the

Master of the Rolls head of the Court, and its chief

organ.]

Prince Albert was gazetted last night. His precedence is not

fixed by patent under the Great Seal, but by Warrant (I suppose,

under the Sign Manual).

Copleston has got £1,000 for the little volume of Dudley's

letters[30] which he has just published. They are very well in

their way--clever, neatly written, not very amusing, rather

artificial, such as everybody reads because they were Dudley's,

but which nobody would think worth reading if they were

anonymous. A mighty proof of the value of a name.

[30] [Copleston, Bishop of Llandaff and Dean of St. Paul's,

was an intimate friend of the late Lord Dudley, and

published part of their correspondence; but the

executors of Lord Dudley, who were the Bishop of Exeter

and Lord Hatherton, caused part of it to be

suppressed.]

March 12th, 1840 {p.274}

The Chancellor sent me his Bill, after which I called on him, and

told him all my objections, and made several suggestions, which

he received very well, and begged me to put in writing what I had

said to him. This I did, and sent the paper to him, which he said

he would send to Lushington, whom I had begged him to consult. I

met Lyndhurst at Lady Glengall's, and had some talk with him

about it, and found he agreed pretty well with me, and that he is

strongly in favour of appointing a permanent Chief of our court,

for _ministerial_ purposes. The Chancellor has himself been very

unwillingly compelled to propose this scheme of reform, for he

hates all alterations, and does not like to begin cleansing the

Augean stable of the Court of Chancery.

When I was with the Chancellor the other day, he said a

difficulty had been started about making Prince Albert a Privy

Councillor before he was of age, and asked me if there was

anything in it. I found, on looking into the books, that the

Royal Dukes had not been brought into Council till they were of

age, but probably that was because they could not take their

seats in the House of Lords before; but I also found very clear

proofs that George III.'s sons had not been sworn but

_introduced_ in his reign, and this puzzled me, for I remembered

to have sworn several of them at different times, during the

present and two last reigns. I therefore wrote to the Duke of

Sussex, and asked him what had occurred in his case. His reply

cleared the matter up. He said the King's sons are _born_ Privy

Councillors, and that they are declared sworn by the King

whenever he pleases; that accordingly he was merely introduced

into Council in 1807; but after the death of George III., when he

stood in a different relation to the reigning Sovereign, he was

sworn; and again at the accessions of King William IV. and Queen

Victoria. I found an account in the Council Books of the form

with which the Prince of Wales was introduced into Council in

1784, and this I sent to Melbourne to show to the Queen,

suggesting that Prince Albert should be introduced upon the same

terms as Prince George of Denmark had been, and with the same

ceremonies as the Prince of Wales in 1784.

The Duke of Wellington has reappeared in the House of Lords, goes

about, and works as usual, but everybody is shocked and grieved

at his appearance. Lyndhurst expressed his alarm to me, lest he

should go on until it became _desirable_ that he should retire,

and his regret that his friends could not prevail upon him to do

so while he still can with dignity. He dined at the Palace on

Monday, and was treated with the greatest civility by the Queen.

Indeed, she has endeavoured to repair her former coldness by

every sort of attention and graciousness, to which he is by no

means insensible.

[Page Head: CREEVEY'S JOURNAL.]

Her Majesty went last night to the Ancient Concert (which she

particularly dislikes), so I got Melbourne to dine with me, and

he stayed talking till twelve o'clock. He told us, among other

things, that he had seen Dudley's Diary (now said to be

destroyed), which contained very little that was interesting upon

public matters, but the most ample and detailed disclosures about

women in society, with their names at full length. Melbourne

expressed his surprise that anybody should write a journal, and

said that he had never written anything, except for a short time

when he was very young, and that he had soon put in the fire all

that he had written. He talked of Creevey's Journal, and of that

which Dover is supposed to have left behind him; both of whom, at

different times and in different ways, knew a good deal of what

was going on. Melbourne said Creevey had been very shrewd, but

exceedingly bitter and malignant; and I was rather surprised to

hear him talk of Lord Dover as having been very bitter also, an

underhand dealer and restless intriguer. I knew very well that he

had ambition and vanity, which were constantly urging him to play

a part more than commensurate with his capacity, and that he

delighted in that sort of political _commérage_ which gave him

importance (and this was the great cause of his friendship with

Brougham, who was just the man for him, and he for Brougham), but

I did not think it was his nature to be bitter, or that he ever

intended to be mischievous--only busy and bustling, within the

bounds of honour and fairness.

The Greville Memoirs, Part 2 (of 3), Volume 1 (of 3) A Journal of the Reign of Queen Victoria from 1837 to 1852 · 第 7 / 11 章