At Dublin Castle Peel was not expected to deal with the great political

questions which convulsed Parliament at different periods of the

century. He had to administer the law. It was routine work of a tedious

and difficult kind; it involved the close study of facts--not in order

to make a showy speech or to win a case for the moment, but in order to

frame practical measures which would stand the test of time. Peel

eschewed the usual recreations of Dublin society, and flung himself into

his work whole-heartedly. In Roman history we see how Caesar was trained

in the details of administration as quaestor, aedile, praetor, consul,

while Pompeius passed in a lordly progress from one high command to

another; how Caesar voluntarily exiled himself from Rome for ten years

to conquer and develop Gaul, while Cicero bewailed himself over a few

months' absence from the Forum. Of these three famous men only one

proved himself able to guide the ship of state in stormy waters. Analogy

must not be too closely pressed; but we see that, while Canning for all

his ability established no durable influence, and his oratory burnt

itself out after a brief blaze, while Wellington's fame paled year after

year from his inability to control the course of civil strife, Peel's

light burnt brighter every decade, as he rose from office to office and

faced one difficult situation after another with coolness and success.

He stayed at his post in Dublin for six years: he worked at the details

of his office--education, agriculture, and police--and brought in many

practical reforms. His beneficial activity is still better seen in the

years 1821 to 1827 when he was Home Secretary. To-day he is chiefly

remembered as the eponymous hero of our police; but in many other ways

his tenure of the latter office is a landmark in departmental work. It

may be that he originated little himself: that Romilly was the pioneer

in the humanizing of law, that Horner taught him the doctrines of sound

finance, that Huskisson led the way in freeing trade from the shackles

with which it had been bound. But Peel in all these cases lent generous

support and made their cause his own. He had a cool head and a warm

heart, a knowledge of Parliament and an influence in Parliament already

unrivalled. He saw what could be done, and how it could be done, and so

he was able to push through successfully the reforms which his

colleagues initiated. The value of his work in this sphere has never

been seriously contested.

The point on which Peel's enemies fastened in judging his career was the

number of times that he changed his convictions, abandoned his party,

and carried through a measure which he himself had formerly opposed. To

understand his claim to be called a great statesman it is particularly

necessary to study these changes.

The first instance was the Reform of the Currency. Early in the French

wars the London banks had been in difficulties. The Government was

forced to borrow large sums from the Bank of England in order to give

subsidies to our allies, and was unable to pay its debts. The Bank could

not at the same time meet the demands of the Government and the claims

of its private customers. Since a panic might at any moment cause an

unprecedented run on its reserves, Pitt suspended cash payments till six

months after the conclusion of peace. The Bank was thus allowed to

circulate notes without being obliged to pay full cash value for them

immediately on demand, and the purchasing power of these notes tended to

vary far more than that of a metal currency. Also foreigners refused to

accept a pound note in the place of a pound sterling; foreign payments

had to be made in specie, and the gold was rapidly drained abroad. When

the war was over, Horner and other economists began to draw attention to

the bad effect of this on foreign trade and to the varying price of

commodities at home, due to the want of a fixed currency. As Pitt had

allowed the system of inconvertible paper, the Tories generally

applauded and were ready to perpetuate it. The elder Sir Robert Peel had

been always a firm supporter of these views and his son began by

accepting them. He continued to acquiesce in them till his attention was

definitely turned to the subject. In 1819 he was asked to be a member of

a committee of very eminent men, including Canning and Mackintosh, which

was to investigate the question, and he was elected chairman of it. But,

though his verdict was taken for granted by his party, his mind was so

constituted that he could not shut it against evidence. He listened to

arguments, and judged them fairly; and, being by nature unable to palter

with the truth, once he was convinced of it, he threw in all his weight

with the reformers and reported in favour of a return to cash payments.

History has vindicated his judgement, and he himself crowned his

financial work by the famous Bank Act of 1844, passed when he was Prime

Minister.

The second question on which Peel's conduct surprised his colleagues was

that of Catholic Emancipation. Since 1793 Roman Catholic electors had

the parliamentary vote; but, since no Roman Catholic could sit in

Parliament, they had hitherto been content to cast their votes for the

more tolerant of the Protestant candidates. Pitt had failed to induce

George III to grant the Catholics civil equality, and George IV, despite

his liberal professions, took up the same attitude as his father on

succeeding to the throne. But the majority of the Whigs, and some even

of the Tories, such as Castlereagh and Canning, were prepared to make

concessions; and since 1820 the Irish agitation led by O'Connell had

been gaining in strength. Peel had several reasons for being on the

other side. His early training by his father, his friendship with Eldon

and Wellington, his attachment to the Established Church, all had

influence upon him. He saw clearly that Disestablishment would follow

closely in Ireland on the granting of the Catholic demands; and since

1817, when he became Member for Oxford University, he felt bound to

resist this. In taking this line he was no better and no worse than any

other Tory member of the day; and in later times many politicians have

allowed their traditions and prejudices to blind them to the existence

of an Irish problem.

For all that, Peel ought earlier to have recognized the facts, to have

looked ahead and formed a policy. As Chief Secretary for Ireland he had

unrivalled opportunities for studying the whole question; but he did not

let it penetrate beneath the surface of his mind. He had continued to

bring up the same arguments on the few occasions when he spoke at

Westminster, and had buried himself in administrative work. He seems to

have hoped that he could evade it. If the Whigs got a majority and

introduced an Emancipation Bill, he would have satisfied his

constituents by formally opposing the measure and would not have gone

beyond this. As he saw it gradually coming, he satisfied his own

conscience by retiring from Lord Liverpool's Government and by refusing

to join Canning, when he became Prime Minister in 1827. As a private

member he would only be responsible for his own vote, and would not feel

that he was settling the question for others. But Canning died after

holding office only a month, and a Government was formed by Wellington

in which Peel returned to office as Home Secretary and became leader of

the House of Commons. Now he had to pay the penalty for his lack of

foresight, and to deal with the tide of feeling which had been rising

for some years on both sides of the Irish Channel. At least he could see

facts which were before his eyes.

In 1828, before he had been twelve months in office, his decision was

aided by a definite event. A by-election had to be fought in Clare, Mr.

Fitzgerald seeking re-election on joining the Government. Against him

came forward no less a person than Daniel O'Connell himself, the most

eloquent and most popular of the Catholic leaders; and, although under

the existing laws his candidature was void, he received an overwhelming

majority. The bewilderment of the Tories was ludicrous. Fitzgerald

himself wrote, 'The proceedings of yesterday were those of madmen; but

the country is mad.' Peel took a careful view of the situation and

decided on his course. He certainly laid himself open to the charge of

giving way before a breach of the law, and the charge was pressed by the

angry Tories. But his judgement was clearly based on a complete survey

of all the facts. A single event was the candle which lit up the scene,

but by the light of it he surveyed the whole room. He still held to his

view about the dangers of Disestablishment ahead, but he maintained that

a crisis had arisen involving graver dangers at the moment, and that the

statesman must choose the lesser of two evils. There is no doubt that

the situation was critical. The Duke of Wellington and Lord Anglesey (a

Waterloo veteran, who was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland) both had fears of

mutiny in the army; and civil war was to be expected, if O'Connell was

not admitted to the House of Commons. Peel's personal consistency was

one matter; the public welfare was another and a weightier. His first

idea was to retire from office and to lend unofficial support to a

measure which he could not advocate in principle. But the only hope of

breaking down the old Tory opposition lay in the influence of the Tory

ministers; no Whig Government could prevail in the temper of that time;

and Wellington appealed in the strongest terms to Peel to remain in

office and to lead the House. Peel yielded from motives of public policy

and made himself responsible for a measure of Catholic Emancipation,

which he had been pledged to resist.

It was a surrender--an undisguised surrender--and Peel did not, as on

the Bullion Committee, profess to have changed his mind. But it was an

honest surrender carried out in the light of day; and, before Parliament

met, Peel announced his decision to resign his seat at Oxford and to

give his constituents the chance of expressing their opinion of his

conduct. The verdict was not long in doubt: the University, which in

1865 rejected another of its brilliant sons, gave a majority of one

hundred and forty-six against him, and his political connexion with

Oxford was severed. The verdict of posterity has been more liberal. The

chief fault laid to Peel's charge is that he should for so many years

have ignored all signs of the danger which was approaching, and not have

made up his mind in time. He could see the crisis clearly, when it came,

and could put the national interest above everything else: he could not

look far enough ahead.

It was a similar want of foresight that led to the fall of the Tory

Government in 1830. The Reform movement, so long delayed by the great

wars, had been gathering force again. Events in France, where Charles X

was driven from the throne and Louis Philippe proclaimed as

Citizen-king, gave it additional impetus. The famous lawyer Brougham was

thundering against the Government in Parliament, while throughout the

country the platforms from which Radical orators declaimed were

surrounded by eager throngs. The history of the movement cannot be told

here. Its chief actors were the Whigs, who on Wellington's resignation

formed a Government under Earl Grey at the end of 1830. Peel was

fighting a losing fight and he did not show his usual judgement or cool

temper. He opposed the Reform Bill to the last: he was haranguing

violently against it when Black Rod arrived to summon the Commons to the

presence of the King. William IV came down in person, at the instance of

the Whig ministers, to dissolve Parliament and so to stay all

proceedings by which, in the as yet unreformed Parliament, the Bill

might have been defeated. In the General Election of 1831 the Whigs

carried all before them, and in July, when Lord Grey carried the second

reading, he could command a majority of 136. Even then it took three

months of stubborn fighting to vanquish the Tory opposition in the House

of Commons. When the Peers rejected the Bill, the question was raised

whether a Tory Government could be formed; but Peel, however he might

dislike the Bill, could recognize facts, and his refusal to co-operate

in defying public opinion was decisive. Lord Grey returned to office

fortified by the King's promise to make any number of new peers, if

required; and the influence of Wellington was effective in dissuading

the Upper House from further futile resistance. Again Peel had shown his

good sense in accepting the situation. So far as he was concerned, there

was no talk of repeal. He explicitly said that he regarded the question

as 'finally and irrevocably disposed of', and he set to work to adapt

his policy to the new situation.

It might well seem a desperate one for the Tories. Here were three

hundred new members, most of whom had just received their seats from the

Whigs against the direct opposition of their rivals. Gratitude and

self-interest impelled them to support the Whig party; and its leaders,

who had for nearly fifty years been out in the cold shade of opposition,

might count on a long spell of power, especially as the Canningites,

stronger in talents than in numbers, joined them at this juncture.

Brougham had gone to the House of Lords, but three future Prime

Ministers--Stanley (afterwards Lord Derby), Lord John Russell, and

Palmerston--were in the House of Commons serving under Lord Althorp,

who, though gifted with no oratorical talent, by his good sense and

still more by his high character, commanded general respect. On the

other side there was only one figure of the first rank, and that was

Peel. Till 1832 he had not grown to his full stature: the Reformed

Parliament gave him his chance and drew forth all his powers. It

represented a new force in politics. No longer were the members sent to

Westminster by a few great land-holders, by the small market towns, and

by the agricultural labourers. The great industrial districts,

Lancashire, Yorkshire, and the Midlands, were there in the persons of

well-to-do citizens, experienced in business and serious in temper; and

Peel, who was himself sprung from a notable family of this kind, was

eminently the man to lead these classes and to win their confidence. It

was also a gain to him to stand alone. His judgement was ripened, his

confidence firm; and he could dominate his party, while the able and

ambitious leaders on the other side too often clashed with one another.

Above all, in the years 1832 to 1834, he showed that he had patience.

Instead of snatching at occasions to ally himself with O'Connell, who

was in opposition to every Government, and to embarrass the Whigs in a

factious party-spirit, he showed a marked respect for principle. He

supported or opposed the Whig bills purely on their merits, and

gradually trained his party to be ready for the inevitable reaction when

it should come.

By 1834 the tendencies to disruption in the victorious party were

clearly showing themselves. First Stanley, on grounds of policy, and

then Lord Grey, for personal reasons never quite cleared up, resigned

office. Soon after, Lord Althorp left the House of Commons on

succeeding to his father's earldom, and a little later Melbourne, the

new Premier, was unexpectedly dismissed by the King. At the time Peel,

expecting no immediate crisis, was abroad, in Rome; and we have

interesting details of his slow journey home to meet the urgent call of

Wellington, who was carrying on the administration provisionally. The

changes of the last few years were shown by the fact that the Tories

felt bound to choose their Premier from the Lower House. It was

Wellington who recommended Peel for the place which, under the old

conditions, he might have been expected to take himself. On his return,

Peel accepted the task of forming a ministry, and, conscious of the

numerical weakness of his own party, he made overtures to some of the

Whigs. But Stanley and Graham[7] refused to join him, and he had to fall

back on the Tories of Wellington's last Government. Before going to the

country he laid down his principles in the famous Tamworth Manifesto.[8]

This manifesto is important for its acceptance of the changes

permanently made by the Reform Bill, and for the clear exposition of his

attitude towards the important Church questions which were imminent. It

is an excellent document for any one to study who wishes to understand

the evolution of the old Tories into the modern Conservative party.

[Note 7: Sir James Graham, afterwards Home Secretary under Peel in

1841.]

[Note 8: Since his father's death, in 1830, Peel had been member for

Tamworth.]

Peel's first administration was not destined to last long. The Liberal

wave was not spent, and the Tories had little to hope for, at this

moment, from a General Election. As so often happened afterwards, when

the two English parties were evenly balanced, the Irish votes turned the

scale. Peel had been forced into this position by the King: his own

judgement would have led him to wait some years. He fought dexterously

for four months, helped in some measure by Stanley, who had left the

Whigs when they threatened the Established Church in Ireland; but it was

this question which in the end upset him. Lord John Russell, in alliance

with O'Connell, proposed the disendowment of that Church and defeated

Peel by thirty-three votes. It was a question of principle, though it

was raised in a factious way, and subsequent history showed that the

mover, after his tactical victory of the moment, could not effect any

practical solution. Peel was driven to resign. But in this short period,

so far from losing credit, he had won the confidence of his party and

the respect of his opponents; he had put some useful measures on the

Statute Book; and he had shown the country that a new spirit, practical

and enlightened, was growing up in the Tory party, and that there was a

minister capable of utilizing it for the general good.

In the Greville papers and other literature of the time we get many

references to the predominant place which he held in the esteem of the

House of Commons. An entry in Greville's journal for February 1834 shows

Peel's unique power. 'No matter how unruly the House, how impatient or

fatigued, the moment he rises, all is silence, and he is sure of being

heard with profound attention and respect.' Lady Lyttelton,[9] who met

him later at Windsor, shows us another aspect. His readiness and

presence of mind come out in the most trivial matters. When Queen

Victoria suddenly, one evening, issued her command that all who could

dance were to dance, the more elderly guests were much embarrassed. Such

an order was not to Peel's taste. 'He was, in fact, to a close observer,

evidently both shy and cross'; but he was 'much the best figure of all,

so mincing with his legs and feet, his countenance full of the funniest

attempt to look unconcerned and "matter of course".' Another time when

games were improvised in the royal circle, Lady Lyttelton was 'much

struck with the quickness and watchful cautious characteristic sagacity

which Sir Robert showed in learning and playing a new round game'. And

to the ladies-in-waiting he commended himself by his quiet courtesy.

'Sir Robert Peel', we read, 'was in his most conversable mood and so

very agreeable. I never enjoyed an evening more.'

[Note 9: _Correspondence of Sarah, Lady Lyttelton_, by Maud Wyndham

(Murray, 1912).]

Perhaps the best description to show how personally he impressed his

contemporaries at this time is given by Lord Dalling and Bulwer in his

memoir. Sir Robert Peel, he tells us, was 'tall and powerfully built,

his body somewhat bulky for his limbs, his head small and well-formed,

his features regular. His countenance was not what would be generally

called expressive, but it was capable of taking the expression he wished

to give it, humour, sarcasm, persuasion, and command, being its

alternate characteristics. The character of the man was seen more... in

the whole person than in the face. He did not stoop, but he bent rather

forwards; his mode of walking was peculiar, and rather like that of a

cat, but of a cat that was well acquainted with the ground it was moving

over; the step showed no doubt or apprehension, it could hardly be

called stealthy, but it glided on firmly and cautiously, without haste,

or swagger, or unevenness.... The oftener you heard him speak, the more

his speaking gained upon you.... He never seemed occupied with himself.

His effort was evidently directed to convince you, not that he was

_eloquent_, but that he was _right_.... He seemed rather to aim at

gaining the doubtful, than mortifying or crushing the hostile.' These

qualities appealed especially to the practical men of business whom the

Reform Bill had brought into politics. They were suited to the temper of

the day, and his speaking won the favour of the best judges in the

House of Commons. Though he disappointed ardent crusaders like Lord

Shaftesbury by his apparent coldness and calculating caution, he

impressed his fellow members as pre-eminently honest and as anxious to

advance in the most effective manner those causes which his judgement

approved. He was not the man to lead a forlorn hope, but rather the

sagacious commander who directed his troops through a practicable

breach.

He was to be in opposition for another six years; but during these years

the Whigs were in constant difficulties, and, as Greville notes, it was

often obvious that Peel was leading the House from the front Opposition

bench. Had he imitated Russell's conduct in 1834 and devoted his chief

energies to overthrowing the Whigs, he could have found many an

occasion. Sedition in Canada and Jamaica, rivalry with France in the

Levant and with Russia in the Farther East, financial troubles and

deficits, the spread of Chartist doctrine, all combined to embarrass a

Government which had no single will and no concentrated resolution. The

accession of Queen Victoria, in 1837, made no change for the moment. But

Wellington's famous remark that the Tories would have no chance with a

Queen because Peel had no manners and he had no small talk, is only

quoted now because of the falsity of the prediction; both politicians

soon came to form a better estimate of her judgement and public spirit.

It was some years before this could be fairly tested. The Tories, while

improving their position, failed to gain an absolute majority in the

elections, and Peel's want of tact in insisting on the Queen changing

all the ladies of her household delayed his triumph from 1839 to 1841.

Meanwhile he spent his energies in training his party and organizing

their resources. He studied measures and he studied men, and he

gradually gathered round him a body of loyal followers who believed in

their chief and were ready to help him in administrative reform when

the time should come. Among his most devoted adherents was Mr.

Gladstone, at this time more famous as a churchman than as a financier;

and even Mr. Disraeli, for all his eccentricities, accepted Peel's

leadership without question. Few could then foresee the very different

careers that lay before his two brilliant lieutenants.

By 1841 the power of the Whigs was spent. A vote of want of confidence

was carried by Peel, the King dissolved Parliament, and the Tories came

back with a majority of ninety in the new House of Commons. Now begins

the most famous part of Peel's career, that associated with the Repeal

of the Corn Laws, the third of his so-called 'betrayals' of his party.

No action of his has been so variously criticized, none caused such

bitterness in political circles. There is no space here to discuss the

value of Protection or the wisdom of the Anti-Corn-Law League, still

less the merits or demerits of a fixed duty as opposed to a

'sliding-scale'. We are concerned with Peel's conduct and must try to

answer the questions--What were Peel's earlier views on the subject?

What caused him to change these views? Was this change effected

honestly, or was he guilty of abandoning his party in order to retain

office himself?

Victorian worthies · 第 3 / 29 段