The Greville Memoirs, Part 2 (of 3), Volume 1 (of 3) / A Journal of the Reign of Queen Victoria from 1837 to 1852

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.

Yesterday morning[19] the Duke of Bedford came to me, to THE PRIVILEGE QUESTION. 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.’

January 24th, 1840

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.

January 26th, 1840

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: 50,000ℓ. 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 50,000ℓ. 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

On Monday night Government were beaten by 104 on the question of reducing the Prince’s allowance from 50,000ℓ. to 30,000ℓ. 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 NATURALISATION OF PRINCE ALBERT. 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.

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.

January 30th, 1840

The great debate in the House of Commons THE MONMOUTH CONVICTS. 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.

January 31st, 1840

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.

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 THE PRECEDENCE OF PRINCE ALBERT. Brougham told me they were unanimous, so ill-informed was he of their real opinions.

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

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 ROYAL PRECEDENCE REFUSED. 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.

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

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.

The wedding on Monday went off tolerably well.[25] The THE QUEEN’S MARRIAGE. 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.

February 15th (Saturday), 1840

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.

February 16th, 1840

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 PAMPHLET ON ROYAL PRECEDENCE. 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.

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.

February 21st, 1840

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.’

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 BILL ON THE PRIVILEGE QUESTION. 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

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

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 JUDICIAL COMMITTEE BILL. 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

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.

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 1,000ℓ. 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.

March 12th, 1840

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 CREEVEY’S JOURNAL. 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.

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.

CHAPTER VIII.

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

March 13th, 1840

I met Jérome Bonaparte yesterday at dinner at Lady Blessington’s, Count de Montfort, as he is called. He is a polite, urbane gentleman, not giving himself any airs, and said nothing royal except that he was going to Stuttgard, ‘pour passer quelques jours avec mon beau-frère le Roi de Würtemberg.’ But these brothers of Napoleon were nothing remarkable in their palmy days, and one’s sympathies are not much excited for them now. They rose and fell with him, and, besides their brief enjoyment of a wonderful prosperity, they have retired upon far better conditions than they were born to. They are free and rich, and are treated with no inconsiderable respect.

March 14th, 1840

Went to the House of Lords, and saw the Chancellor, who told me he had forwarded the paper I sent him to Dr. Lushington, who concurred in my suggestions, and he had ordered the Privy Council Bill to be altered accordingly. Fell in with the Duke of Wellington, who took my arm, told his cabriolet to follow, and walked the whole way back to Apsley House, quite firm and strong. He looks very old and worn, and speaks very slowly, but quite distinctly; talked about the China question and other things, and seemed clear enough. He was pleased with his reception at Court, and told me particularly how civil Prince Albert had been to him, and indeed to everybody else; said he never saw better manners, or anybody more generally attentive. The Duchess of Kent talked to him, and in a strain of satisfaction, so that there is something like sunshine in the Palace just now.

March 18th, 1840

The first symptom of a failure in the Duke of Wellington’s memory came under my notice the day before yesterday. I had been employed by Gurwood to negotiate with Dr. Lushington about some papers written by the Duke when in Spain, which had fallen into the Doctor’s hands, and I spoke twice to the Duke on the subject, the last time on Friday last, when I walked home with him from the House of Lords. It was settled that the Doctor should write to the Duke about them, who was to write an answer, after which they were to be given up. But when the Doctor’s letter arrived, the Duke had forgotten the whole thing, and could not remember what Lushington it was, and actually wrote a reply (which was not sent, because my brother set him right) to Stephen Lushington, the ex-Secretary to the Treasury. This is so remarkable in a man so accurate, and whose memory is generally so retentive, that I can’t help noticing it, as the first clear and undoubted proof of his failure in a particular faculty.

I dined yesterday at Devonshire House, a dinner of forty people to feast the Royalties of Sussex and Capua with their quasi-Consorts, for I know not whether the Princess of Capua is according to Neapolitan law a real Princess any more than our Cecilia is a real Duchess,[1] which she certainly DINNER AT DEVONSHIRE HOUSE. is not, nor takes the title, though every now and then somebody gives it her. However, there they were yesterday in full possession of all the dignities of their husbands. The Duke made a mystery of the order in which he meant them to go out to dinner, and would let nobody know how it was all to be till the moment came. He then made the Duke of Sussex go out first with the Princess of Capua, next the Prince with Lady Cecilia, and he himself followed with the Duchess of Somerset, and so on. After dinner the Duke of Sussex discoursed to me about the oath and other matters. He is dissatisfied on account of the banners of the Knights of the Garter having been moved in St. George’s Chapel, to make room for Prince Albert’s, I suppose; but I could not quite make out what it was he complained of, only he said when such a disposition had been shown in all quarters to meet Her Majesty’s wishes, and render to the Prince all honour, they ought not to push matters farther than they can properly do, &c. ... something to this effect. He is not altogether pleased with the Court; that is evident.