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

Or, as Dryden nobly translates it—

I feel myself a miserable example of this species of injury, both as relates to the defects and omissions of my early education and the evil of my subsequent habits. From never having studied hard at any time, no solid foundation of knowledge has ever been laid, my subsequent reading has been desultory and very nearly useless. I have attacked various subjects as I have been prompted thereto by curiosity, or vanity, or shame, but I have never mastered any of them, and the information I have obtained has been like a house built without a foundation, which the first gust of wind would blow down and scatter abroad. Really to master a subject, we should begin at the beginning, storing the memory with consecutive facts, reasoning and reflecting upon them as we go along, till the whole subject is digested, comprehended, made manageable and producible at will; but then, for this process, the mind must be disciplined, and there must be a power of attention undiverted, and of continuous application; but if the eyes travel over the pages of a book, while the mind is far away upon Newmarket Heath, and nothing but broken fragments of attention are bestowed upon the subject before you, whatever it may be, the result can only be useless imperfect information, crude and superficial ideas, constant shame, and frequent disappointment and mortification. Nothing on earth can make up for the valuable time which I have lost, or enable me to obtain that sort of knowledge, or give me those habits which are only to be acquired early in life, when the memory is fresh and vigorous, and the faculties are both lively and pliant; but that is no reason why I should abandon the design of improvement in despair, for it is never too late to mend, and a great deal may yet be done.

Beaudesert,[25] January 12th, 1838

On Monday went to Sutton; nobody there but Mr. Hodgson, formerly my tutor at Eton, the friend of Byron, author of a translation of Juvenal—a clever, not an agreeable man. The house at Sutton is unfinished, but handsome enough. Came here on Wednesday; a magnificent place indeed, and very comfortable house. A good many people, nobody remarkable; very idle life. Read in the newspaper that Colburn gave Lady Charlotte Bury 1,000ℓ. for the wretched catchpenny trash called ‘Memoirs of the Time of George IV.,’ which might well set all the world what Scott calls ‘gurnelising,’ for nobody could by possibility compile or compose anything more vile or despicable. Since I came here, a world of fine thoughts came into my head which I intended to immortalise in these pages; but they have all evaporated like the baseless fabric of a vision.

Beaudesert, January 17th, 1838

To Sandon on Monday, and returned here yesterday; go away to-morrow. It has been a dreadfully idle life all day long, facendo niente, incessant gossip and dawdle, poor, unprofitable talk, and no rational employment. Brougham was here a little while ago for a week. He, Lord Wellesley, and Lord Anglesey form a discontented triumvirate, and are knit together by the common bond of a sense of ill-usage and of merit neglected. Wellesley and Anglesey are not Radicals, however, and blame Brougham’s new tendency that way. Anglesey and DEATH OF LORD ELDON. Wellesley both hate and affect to despise the Duke of Wellington,[26] in which Brougham does not join. They are all suffering under mortified vanity and thwarted ambition, and after playing their several parts, not without success and applause, they have not the judgement to see and feel that they forfeit irretrievably the lustre of their former fame by such a poor and discreditable termination of their career. Douro is here, une lune bien pâle auprès de son père, but far from a dull man, and not deficient in information.

Badminton, January 23rd, 1838

The debate in the Lords the other night was very interesting and creditable to the assembly.[27] Brougham delivered a tremendous philippic of three hours. The Duke of Wellington made a very noble speech, just such as it befitted him to make at such a moment, and of course it bitterly mortified and provoked the Tories, who would have had him make a party question of it, and thought of nothing but abusing, vilifying, and embarrassing the Government. This was what Peel showed every disposition to do in the House of Commons, where he made a poor, paltry half-attack, which was much more to the taste of his party than the Duke’s temperate and candid declaration.

Lord Eldon died last week full of years and wealth. He had for some time past quitted the political stage, but his name was still venerated by the dregs of that party to whom consistent bigotry and intolerance are dear. Like his more brilliant brother, Lord Stowell, he was the artificer of his own fortune, and few men ever ran a course of more unchequered prosperity. As a politician, he appears to have been consistent throughout, and to have offered a determined and uniform opposition to every measure of a Liberal description. He knew of no principles but those (if they merit the name of principles) of the narrowest Toryism and of High Church, and as soon as more enlarged and enlightened views began to obtain ascendency, he quitted (and for ever) public life. I suppose he was a very great lawyer, but he was certainly a contemptible statesman. He was a very cheerful, good-natured old man, loving to talk, and telling anecdotes with considerable humour and point. I remember very often during the many tedious hours the Prince Regent kept the Lords of the Council waiting at Carlton House, that the Chancellor used to beguile the time with amusing stories of his early professional life, and anecdotes of celebrated lawyers, which he told extremely well. He lived long enough to see the overthrow of the system of which he had been one of the most strenuous supporters, the triumph of all the principles which he dreaded and abhorred, and the elevation of all the men to whom, through life, he had been most adverse, both personally and politically. He little expected in 1820, when he was presiding at Queen Caroline’s trial, that he should live to see her Attorney-General on the Woolsack, and her Solicitor-General Chief Justice of England.

CHAPTER II.

Debates on the Canada Bill — Moderation of the Duke of Wellington — State of Canada — Lord Durham’s Position — Weakness of the Government — Parallel of Hannibal and the Duke of Wellington — The Ballot — Lord Brougham on the Ballot — Position of the Government — Policy of Sir Robert Peel — Death of Mr. Creevey — Knighthood of General Evans — Lord Brougham’s Conversation — A Skirmish in the House of Commons — Defeat of Government — Skirmish in the House of Lords — Annoyance of Peel at these Proceedings — Brougham’s Anti-Slavery Speech — Opposition Tactics — Brougham on the Coolie Trade — Ministerial Success — Sir Robert Peel’s Tactics — Composition of Parties — A Dinner at Buckingham Palace — Men of Science — The Lord Mayor at a Council — The Queen at a Levée — The Guiana Apprentices — Small v. Attwood reversed — Character of the Queen — Wilkie’s Picture of the ‘First Council’ — Small v. Attwood — Immediate Emancipation — Birthday Reflexions — Lord Charles Fitzroy turned out — Vote on Lord Durham’s Expenses — Lord Durham’s Irritation — Wolff the Missionary — Newmarket — The Coronation — Lord Brougham’s Reviews.

London, January 28th, 1838

I came to town on Wednesday night, and have been laid up with the gout ever since. Found all things prepared for a fight in the House of Commons on Thursday, upon Peel’s two amendments to the Canada Bill. The Tories had mustered in large force, and the Irishmen had not arrived, so that there was a very good chance of the Government being beaten. In this emergency Edward Ellice made a very convenient and dexterous speech, in which he begged Lord John Russell, for the sake of unanimity, to give way. Lord John said he would consult his colleagues and give an answer the next day. It was clear enough what he would do, and accordingly he came down the next day, and amidst shouts of triumph, and what was intended for ridicule from the Tory mob, announced his intention to accept both amendments. Peel next fell upon the Instructions to Durham, which he treated very scornfully, and predicted that they would be compelled to withdraw them. The Tories were in high dudgeon with the Duke at his speech in the House of Lords, which they showed in a sort of undergrowl and with rueful faces, for they stand in awe of the great man, and don’t dare openly to remonstrate with him or blame his actions. There is no doubt that his speech was essentially serviceable to the Government, and upset one of the most promising topics of its opponents. Francis Egerton came up from the Carlton Club to his own home after it, and said with deep melancholy that ‘the Duke had floored the coach,’ and he described the consternation and mortification which were prevalent throughout that patriotic and disinterested society. They were in consequence the more anxious to urge on Peel to make an attack of some sort upon the Ministers in the House of Commons, and he gratified them by moving these amendments, and vilipending the Instructions.[1] It may be questionable whether it was right to attack the Government upon the details of their measures when no difference exists between the opposite parties as to the principle; but granting that it was, he acted with great skill as a party tactician. He was certainly right upon every point. The Bill will be improved by his alterations, and it was equally unnecessary and ill-judged to lay the Instructions on the table of the House. The result has been a very clamorous triumph on the part of the Tories, and a somewhat unlucky exposure of themselves by the Government; as one of their own friends (in office) acknowledged to me to-day, they have had ‘to eat humble pie.’

February 5th, 1838

Another debate in the House of Lords on Friday, and a good one, which will probably finish the Canadian discussion. Upon this occasion Brougham fired off another fierce philippic, and was bitterly answered by Melbourne, who declared war against him once for all. Aberdeen MODERATION OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. made an attack on the Government which he had intended to make on the first debate; but as the Duke then said ‘Shall I speak?’ he said, ‘Oh yes, do,’ expecting the Duke would make one instead, but was bitterly disappointed when he heard that moderate speech which gave such offence to his friends and such comfort to his foes. So on Friday Aberdeen said what he had intended to say before, and to do him justice, he made some strong points against the Government, which told well. He accused them of unnecessary delay in bringing in this Bill last year, after they had passed their Resolutions, and asserted that they shuffled it off for fear they should be inconvenienced thereby in the election contests which were approaching. I incline to believe this accusation is well founded, and if so, it was very paltry conduct, and not an inapt illustration of the Duke of Wellington’s famous question during the Reform Bill, ‘How is the King’s Government to be carried on?’ The King’s Government was not carried on; its interests were neglected or postponed to the more pressing interest (as they thought, and I believe thought erroneously) of the party in their election contests. The Duke of Wellington was expected upon this occasion to make some amends to his party by explaining away the exculpatory remarks with which he had before assisted his opponents. But not a bit: he repeated the same thing, and made a second speech quite as moderate as his first. The Duke is therefore incorrigible. My mother told him the other day how angry they were with him for what he had said, and he only replied, ‘Depend upon it, it was true.’

I saw a letter yesterday with a very bad account of the state of Canada.[2] It was to Lord Lichfield from his Postmaster there, a sensible man, and he describes the beaten Canadians as returning to their homes full of sullen discontent, and says we must by no means look upon the flame as extinguished; however, for the time it has been smothered. On the other hand, there are the English victorious and exasperated, with arms in their hands, and in that dangerous state of mind which is the result of conscious superiority, moral and intellectual, military and political, but of (equally conscious) physical—that is, numerical—inferiority. It is the very state which makes men insolent and timid, tyrannical and cruel; it is just what the Irish Orangemen have been, and it is very desirable that nothing like them should exist elsewhere. All this proves that Durham will have no easy task. It is a curious exhibition of the caprice of men’s opinions when we see the general applause with which Durham’s appointment is hailed, and the admiration with which he is all at once regarded. Nobody denies that he is a man of ability, but he has not greatly distinguished himself, perhaps from having had no fair opportunity to do so. He has long been looked upon as a man of extreme and dangerous opinions by the Conservatives, and he never could agree with the Whigs when he was their colleague; to them generally he was an object of personal aversion. Latterly he has been considered the head of the Radical party, and that party, who are not rich in Lords, and who are not insensible to the advantage of rank, gladly hailed him as their chief; but for the last year or two, under the alterative influence of Russian Imperial flattery, Durham’s sentiments have taken a very Conservative turn, and, though he and the Radicals have never quarrelled, they could not possibly consider him to be the same man he was when they originally ranged themselves under his banner. In public life the most that can be said for him is, that he cut a respectable figure. When in office he filled the obscure post of Privy Seal, and spoke but seldom. He was known, however, to have had a considerable share in the concoction of the Reform Bill. The only other public post he has held was that of Ambassador to Russia, where nobody knows but the Minister who employed him whether he did well or ill. Now everybody says he is the finest fellow imaginable, and that WEAKNESS OF THE GOVERNMENT. he alone can pacify Canada. Nor do I mean to say he is unequal to the task he has undertaken, but the opinion of the world seems oddly produced, and to stand upon no very solid foundation. If he had continued plain John Lambton I doubt if he ever would have been thought of for Canada, or that the choice (if he had been sent there) would have been so approved. Why on earth is it that an Earldom makes any difference?

To return to the Canadian discussions. The Ministers have on the whole come out of them discreditably. Peel has worried and mauled them sadly, and taken a tone of superiority, and displayed a real superiority, which is very pernicious to a Government, as it tends to deprive them of the respect and the confidence of the country. Brougham’s harangues in the House of Lords have not done them half the mischief that Peel’s speeches have done them in the House of Commons, because Peel has a vast moral weight and Brougham has none. In the conduct of the business and in their Parliamentary proceedings they committed errors, especially in the latter, and Peel availed himself of both with great dexterity and power. The front Treasury Bench is in a deplorable state. John Russell is without support; Rice is held cheap and is ineffective; Palmerston never utters except on his own business; Thomson and Hobhouse never on any business; and Howick alone ventures to mix in the fight. The Tories render ample justice to Lord John under these overwhelming difficulties. Francis Egerton (one of the keenest of the party) writes to my brother an account of their recent successes, full of scorn and triumph, and proud comparisons between the Government and the Opposition, and he says, ‘John Russell is alone—a host in himself I admit; but Rice and Howick, the only colleagues who did assist him, are gone down in the Parliamentary estimation a hundred degrees. I certainly admire the spirit and dexterity of John Russell, and give him credit for great ability.’ There is no doubt that the Tories have put themselves in a better position for getting office, and the Whigs in a worse for keeping it, than they were in before, because impartial men who look at these debates will say that Peel and his people are the abler practical men, and as time settles the great questions in dispute, and renders the public mind more indifferent about those which still remain, there will be a growing opinion that the direction of affairs ought to be entrusted to those who display the greatest capacity to conduct them. The Conservatives besides have the inestimable advantage of an alliance with the ‘Times,’ the most vigorous and powerful agent which the press ever produced. The effect of its articles, stinging as they are, is irresistible on the public mind, and the Government have nothing to oppose to such a torrent. It is impossible however, while admiring the dexterity of Peel in the elaboration of his offensive measures, to overlook the selfish and unpatriotic spirit which the great body of the Tories have manifested throughout the proceedings. If they could have foregone the bitter pleasure of achieving a party triumph, and shown themselves ready not only to support the Government in suppressing the rebellion, but to join with them in rendering the necessary legislative measures as conducive to the great object of pacification as they could be made, they would have covered themselves with honour, and acquired a credit for noble and public-spirited conduct, which, as it is, the Duke of Wellington has alone obtained, and which none of them share with him. Nor do I believe if Peel had exerted his dexterity and astuteness in another way that he would have failed to acquire the same moral superiority over the Ministers by pacific and moderate behaviour, that he has acquired by hostile motions and taunting language. But his tail was in a state of furious agitation, and so angry and dejected at the Duke’s forbearance, that he felt himself compelled to give them the gratification of a triumph of some sort. To the majority of his followers the Canadian insurrection was a very pleasing occurrence, and they would have been overjoyed if the troops had been defeated and Montreal captured by the rebels. This would indeed have been a fine case against the Government, and have paved the way for the return of the Tories to office—all that they care about.

February 8th, 1838

HANNIBAL AND THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. I have just conducted to a successful termination a negotiation (through Allen) between Sir George Murray and Macvey Napier, and Murray is to write the article on the Duke’s Despatches in the ‘Edinburgh Review.’[3] I am rather surprised at their persuasion that Murray will execute the task so well, and I hope it may turn out so. They have employed the handsomest language in praise of the Duke and towards Murray. [He did it very ill: his articles (he wrote two) were very poor performances.]

February 11th, 1838

I suppose all great generals have necessarily some qualities in common; even Vendôme, an indolent and beastly glutton and voluptuary, was capable of prodigious exertions and of activity not to be surpassed. There is a great deal in the character of Hannibal (as drawn by Livy) which would apply to the Duke of Wellington; only, instead of being stained with the vices which are ascribed to the Carthaginian general, the Duke is distinguished for the very opposite virtues.

‘Nunquam ingenium idem ad res diversissimas, 1. parendum atque imperandum, habilius fuit, itaque haud facile discerneres, utrum imperatori, an exercitui, carior esset: 2. Neque Hasdrubal alium quemquam præficere malle, ubi quid fortiter ac strenuè agendum esset, neque milites alio duce plus confidere aut audere. 3. Plurimum audaciæ ad pericula capessenda, plurimum consilii inter ipsa pericula erat: 4. Nullo labore aut corpus fatigari aut animus vinci poterat: caloris ac frigoris patientia par: cibi potionisque desiderio naturali, non voluptate, modus finitus: vigiliarum somnique nec die nec nocte discriminata tempora. Id, quod gerendis rebus superesset, quieti datum: ea neque molli strato neque silentio arcessita. 5. Multi sæpe militari sagulo opertum, humi jacentem inter custodias stationesque militum conspexerunt. 6. Vestitus nihil inter æquales excellens: arma atque equi conspiciebantur. Equitum peditumque idem longè primus erat: princeps in prœlium ibat: ultimus conserto prœlio excedebat. 7. Has tantas viri virtutes ingentia vitia æquabant; inhumana crudelitas, perfidia plus quàm Punica, nihil veri, nihil sancti, nullus Deûm metus, nullum jusjurandum, nulla religio.’[4] ...

1. Nothing is more remarkable in the Duke than his habit of prompt obedience to his superiors and employers, and this shines forth as much when the triumphant Commander-in-Chief of the Allied armies at the end of the Spanish war, as in his early campaign in India. He was always ready to serve when, where, and how his services were required, and so I believe he is now.

2. In India he was employed by Lord Wellesley and Lord Lake in all the most important and difficult military enterprises and civil transactions.

3. Napier says some of Wellington’s operations were daring to extravagance, some cautious to the verge of timidity, all founded as much upon keen and nice perceptions of the political measures of his adversaries as upon pure military considerations—and ‘he knew how to obey as well as to command.’

4. He told me himself that he was obliged to do everything in person. His despatches show that he thought of everything, wrote of everything, directed everything.

5. During the battles of the Pyrenees he slept wrapped in a cloak, under a thick bush, and the shot fell so near him that he was urged to remove to a less exposed place.

6. He was always dressed in his plain blue coat; he rode very good horses.

7. Here ends the parallel and begins the contrast. No general ever exhibited to the world a nobler example of mildness and humanity, of the most perfect and invariable good faith, of severe truth, of inflexible justice, of scrupulous honesty, of reverence for religion, and regard to the precepts of morality. Cruelty is not a modern vice; no general is cruel in these days. I doubt if there has been any great deed of cruelty committed since the Thirty Years’ War, the sack of Magdeburg, and the exploits of Tilly and Pappenheim. Turenne ravaged the Palatinate, but that was Louvois’ THE BALLOT. cruelty, not Turenne’s. There were no military cruelties perpetrated in the revolutionary wars that I remember.

February 18th, 1838

On Thursday night came on the Ballot, and its advocates divided, as they said they should, 200. Lord John Russell, though ill, came down and spoke against it. Peel made a good speech, and complimented John on his conduct. All the Cabinet Ministers voted against it except Poulett Thomson, who stayed away. The result is the creation of a strong impression that the Ballot will eventually be carried; Brougham says in five years.[5] There can be no doubt that if the Government had declared a neutrality, perhaps if John Russell had not so deeply committed himself against it, it would have been carried now. Some men in office, many others closely connected with Ministers, did vote for it; a great number stayed away, and of those who followed John many did so very reluctantly, and some certainly will never vote against it again. Then it is indubitable that the Ballot is getting more popular in the country, and it is not regarded with much apprehension by many of those who are altogether opposed to Radical principles: by such as Fazakerley for instance, a sensible man and moderate Whig, who did not vote at all on this occasion.

On Friday night Brougham announced to the Lords that they must make up their minds to the Ballot after the division of the preceding night, and yesterday morning, when we were assembled in my room before going into court (Parke, Erskine, Bosanquet, and himself) he gave us his speech in high glee. Parke, who is an alarmist, had just before said that he had never doubted when the Reform Bill had passed that England would become a republic, and when Brougham said that he gave the Ballot five years for its accomplishment, Parke said, ‘And in five years from that we shall have a republic,’ on which Brougham gave him a great cuff, and, with a scornful laugh, said, ‘A republic! pooh, nonsense! Well, but what if there is? There are judges in a republic, and very well paid too.’ ‘Well paid!’ said the other in the same tone, ‘and no.’ ‘Yes, they are; they have 350ℓ. a year. But, never mind, you shall be taken care of; I will speak to Grote about you.’ This is the way he goes on. He sits every day at the Judicial Committee, but pays very little attention to the proceedings; he is incessantly in and out of the room, giving audience to one odd-looking man or another, and while in court more occupied with preparing articles for the ‘Edinburgh Review’ or his Parliamentary tirades than with the cases he is by way of hearing. The day after the Lord Advocate’s attack upon him in the matter of the Glasgow cotton-spinners, he received Wakley, and as he returned (through my room) from the interview, he said, ‘Do you know who that was? It was Wakley. He would have felt your head if he had stopped, for he is a great phrenologist. He examined all the heads of the Glasgow men, and he said they had none of them the organ of destructiveness except one.’ ‘Oh,’ said I, ‘then that man would have committed murder.’ ‘No,’ said he, ‘for the organ of benevolence was also strongly developed.’ He is in extraordinary good humour; in a state of furious mental activity, troubled neither with fear nor shame, and rejoicing in that freedom from all ties which renders him a sort of political Ishmael, his hand against everybody, and everybody against him, and enables him to cut and slash, as his fancy or his passion move him, at Whig or Tory, in the House of Lords.

To return from Brougham to the Ballot. It is not so much the number of 200 who voted for it that demonstrates the greatness of its progress as the circumstances which attended the discussion. There can be no doubt that John Russell’s strenuous declaration, besides annoying the Radicals, greatly embarrassed the Whigs, who had either wholly or partially committed themselves on the hustings to its support, and the consequence has been to place the Government in a false position, for while the opposition to the Ballot has been called a Government measure (and William LORD JOHN OPPOSES THE BALLOT. Cowper told me the evening before the division that nobody could keep his place and vote for Ballot), and many have been induced to sacrifice their opinions or act against their professions upon the ground of the necessity of supporting the Government; many others in office, who were too deeply pledged to, or too much afraid of their constituents to vote against it, either voted with Grote, or, what is very nearly the same thing, absented themselves, and will have done so with impunity, for the Government cannot turn people out for voting or non-voting on such a question as this; the proscription would be too numerous as well as too odious. They are much too weak for any such stretch of authority and severity; besides, the Cabinet itself is probably neither unanimous nor decided in its opposition to the Ballot. John Russell had, however, spoken out with such determination, that his honour was irretrievably committed against it, and accordingly the most strenuous efforts were made, the most urgent entreaties and remonstrances were employed, to induce people to support him on this occasion, but with a success not at all commensurate with these exertions. Vivian offered to resign, but could not be prevailed on not to vote.[6] So disgusted was John Russell with the result of this division, that it was with the greatest difficulty he was prevented from resigning; and yesterday it was reported all over the town that he had resigned. It is remarkable that in contemplation of his resignation, Morpeth is the man talked of as his successor as leader of the House of Commons, a man young enough to be the son of half the Cabinet Ministers, and not in the Cabinet; but in such low estimation are all Lord John’s colleagues, that not one of them is deemed capable of taking his place in the event of his giving it up. However, there is not much use in speculating about Lord John’s successor if he secedes, for the whole concern would in that case inevitably fall to the ground. Indeed, it is not likely that it will, under any circumstances, go on much longer. When once the leader of the House of Commons has become thoroughly disgusted and dissatisfied with his position, either a change or a dissolution of the Government may be anticipated, and in this case any attempt at change can scarcely fail to break up this rickety firm.

The circumstances which enable them to go on at all I take to be these: the extreme repugnance of the Queen to any change, and the necessity in which Melbourne finds himself on her account to go on as long as he possibly can; and on the other hand, the reluctance of Peel to assault the Government in front. I know no more of Peel’s opinions and designs than what I can gather from his conduct and what he is likely to entertain under present circumstances; but it must be his object to delay coming into office till he can do so as a powerful Minister, and till it is made manifest to Parliament and the country that he is demanded by a great public exigency, and is not marching in as the result of a party triumph. If the resignation of the present Government should take place under any circumstances which admitted of a reunion of the Whigs and the Radicals, and of the whole re-united party being held together in opposition to a Conservative Government, Peel would be little more secure, and not more able to act with efficiency and independence than he was in 1835, and this is what he never will submit to. It is also a great object to him that the Irish questions should be settled before he comes into office. Nothing would gladden his heart more than to have the Government in Ireland established on a footing from the practice of which he could not deviate, and that once effected up to a certain point (as far as the Whigs can go) he would be enabled to go a good deal farther; and as the man who covers in a building has always more credit and is considered the artificer more than he who lays the foundations, so Peel would obtain all the credit of measures which would in fact have been rendered easy or practicable by the long-continued toils and perseverance of others. His interest therefore (and consequently I suppose his design) is to restrain the impatience of his followers; to let the POLICY OF SIR ROBERT PEEL. Government lose ground in public estimation gently and considerately, not violently and rancorously; to assist in putting them in a contemptible or inefficient point of view; to render their places as uneasy as possible; and to give them time to crumble to pieces, so that his return to power may be more in appearance the act of the Whig Ministry than any act of his own. Then he may demand, and would probably obtain, as the condition of his acceptance of office, the support of a large proportion of the moderate of the Whig party, and the necessity of conciliating such men and of acquiring their support could afford him an excuse for adopting those Liberal maxims which, though far from palatable to the Conservatives, would be indispensable to the formation of a strong Government, as without their adoption no Whig could with honour and consistency support him. I care not who is Minister, but I want to see a strong Government, one which may have a power of free action and not be obliged to pick its steps through doubtful divisions, living from day to day, and compelled to an incessant calculation as to the probable success of every measure, whether of principle or detail, on which it ventures in the House of Commons. Things are not yet ripe for such a consummation, and before the fresh fusion of parties takes place which is necessary to bring it about, it must be made manifest that there is no other alternative, for there is always a considerable amount of party violence and selfish interest which reluctantly sacrifice themselves, no matter how desperate the position they hold or how great the good which may ensue. Though the adherents of Government put on as bold a front as they can, there is a very considerable impression that the days of the Whig Cabinet are numbered; however, I don’t think they will go just yet.

February 20th, 1838

I made no allusion to the death of Creevey at the time it took place, about a fortnight ago, having said something about him elsewhere. Since that period he had got into a more settled way of life. He was appointed to one of the Ordnance offices by Lord Grey, and subsequently by Lord Melbourne to the Treasurer ship of Greenwich Hospital, with a salary of 600ℓ. a year and a house. As he died very suddenly, and none of his connexions were at hand, Lord Sefton sent to his lodgings and (in conjunction with Vizard, the solicitor) caused all his papers to be sealed up. It was found that he had left a woman who had lived with him for four years as his mistress, his sole executrix and residuary legatee, and she accordingly became entitled to all his personalty (the value of which was very small, not more than 300ℓ. or 400ℓ.) and to all the papers which he left behind him. These last are exceedingly valuable, for he had kept a copious diary for thirty-six years, had preserved all his own and Mrs. Creevey’s letters, and copies or originals of a vast miscellaneous correspondence. The only person who is acquainted with the contents of these papers is his daughter-in-law, whom he had frequently employed to copy papers for him, and she knows how much there is of delicate and interesting matter, the publication of which would be painful and embarrassing to many people now alive, and make very inconvenient and premature revelations upon private and confidential matters.... Then there is Creevey’s own correspondence with various people, especially with Brougham, which evidently contains things Brougham is anxious to suppress, for he has taken pains to prevent the papers from falling into the hands of any person likely to publish them, and has urged Vizard to get possession of them either by persuasion, or purchase, or both. In point of fact they are now in Vizard’s hands, and it is intended by him and Brougham, probably with the concurrence of others, to buy them of Creevey’s mistress, though who is to become the owner of the documents, or what the stipulated price, and what their contemplated destination, I do not know. The most extraordinary part of the affair is, that the woman has behaved with the utmost delicacy and propriety, has shown no mercenary disposition, but expressed her desire to be guided by the wishes and opinions of Creevey’s friends and connexions, and to concur in whatever measures may be thought best by them with reference to the character of Creevey, and the interests and MR. CREEVEY’S PAPERS. feelings of those who might be affected by the contents of the papers. Here is a strange situation in which to find a rectitude of conduct, a moral sentiment, a grateful and disinterested liberality which would do honour to the highest birth, the most careful cultivation, and the strictest principle. It would be a hundred to one against any individual in the ordinary rank of society and of average good character acting with such entire absence of selfishness, and I cannot help being struck with the contrast between the motives and disposition of those who want to get hold of these papers, and of this poor woman who is ready to give them up. They, well knowing that, in the present thirst for the sort of information Creevey’s journals and correspondence contain, a very large sum might be obtained for them, are endeavouring to drive the best bargain they can with her for their own particular ends, while she puts her whole confidence in them, and only wants to do what they tell her she ought to do under the circumstances of the case.

General Evans’s appointment as K.C.B. has made a great stir at the United Service Club, and is blamed or ridiculed by everybody. It is difficult to conceive why the Government gave it him, and if he had not been a vain coxcomb, he would not have wished for it; but they say he fancies himself a great general, and that he has done wonders in Spain.[7]

We have had Brougham every day at the Council Office, more busy writing a review of Lady Charlotte Bury’s book than with the matter before the Judicial Committee. He writes this with inconceivable rapidity, seldom corrects, and never reads over what he has written, but packs it up and despatches it rough from his pen to Macvey Napier. He is in exuberant spirits and full of talk, and certainly marvellously agreeable. His talk (for conversation is not the word for it) is totally unlike that of anybody else I ever heard. It comes forth without the slightest effort, provided he is in spirits and disposed to talk at all. It is the spontaneous outpouring of one of the most fertile and restless of minds, easy, familiar, abundant, and discursive. The qualities and peculiarities of mind which mar his oratorical, give zest and effect to his conversational, powers; for the perpetual bubbling up of fresh ideas, by incapacitating him from condensing his speeches, often makes them tediously digressive and long; but in society he treads the ground with so elastic a step, he touches everything so lightly and so adorns all that he touches, his turns and his breaks are so various, unexpected, and pungent, that he not only interests and amuses, but always exhilarates his audience so as to render weariness and satiety impossible. He is now coquetting a little with the Tories, and especially professes great deference and profound respect for the Duke of Wellington; his sole object in politics, for the moment, is to badger, twit, and torment the Ministry, and in this he cannot contain himself within the bounds of common civility, as he exemplified the other night when he talked of ‘Lord John this and Mr. Spring that’ (on Thursday night), which, however contemptuous, was too undignified to be effective. He calls this ‘the Thomson Government’ from its least considerable member.

February 25th, 1838

Lord John Russell made a very paltry exhibition on Friday night, quite unworthy of the fame he had acquired and of the situation he holds. When Lord Maidstone threatened to bring before the House the language which O’Connell had used (about the perjury in Committees) in a speech at the ‘Crown and Anchor,’[8] and gave notice of a motion for that purpose, John jumped up and said, if he persevered in this motion he would call the attention of the House to an imputation against the Catholic members contained in a charge of the Bishop of Exeter with reference to the oath required of them by the Relief O’CONNELL AT THE CROWN AND ANCHOR. Bill. Whether this was a sally of passion I know not, but it was puerile, imprudent, and undignified. This charge was delivered in 1836, and ought to have been animadverted upon at the time, if at all. It either is, or is not, a proper matter to bring before the House, but that propriety cannot be contingent upon some other proceeding of another person, quite unconnected with it. It was a poor tu quoque which has got him into a scrape, and will contribute to the downhill impulsion of the Government; it is a fresh bit of discredit thrown upon them. John Russell too has been a personal antagonist of the Bishop of Exeter, and should have been the last man to attack him in this irregular way. Out of all this will spring much violence and personality, and that is what interests the members of the House of Commons more than any great political question.