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

July 1st, 1838

This morning hit upon this stanza in Coleridge’s ‘Ode to Tranquillity’:—

My own thoughts about myself. Mr. Sterling, whom I met at dinner the other day (son of Sterling, of the ‘Times’[14]), said that Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats were all greater poets than Dryden, that they had all finer imaginations. He compared ‘The Vision of Kubla Khan’ to ‘Lycidas’ for harmony of versification!!

July 3rd, 1838

I was at the ball at Court last night to which hundreds would have given hundreds to go, and from which I would have gladly stayed away: all was very brilliant and very tiresome.

July 4th, 1838

A great exposure of Durham in the House of Lords on Monday night,[15] Brougham chuckling over it yesterday morning. The impression left by Melbourne’s speech was, that Durham had actually assured him he had no intention of appointing Turton, and it was either so, or Melbourne had desired him not to do so, and he went off without sending any answer. The former discussion about Turton took place while Durham was at Portsmouth. Everything blows over, so probably this will, but it is calculated to produce a very bad effect both here and in Canada, and to deprive Durham of all the weight which would attach to him from the notion of his being trusted and trustworthy; besides, the bitter mortification to his pride (by receiving this rap on the knuckles at the outset of his career) will sour his temper and impair his judgement. Brougham says that if he finds his difficulties great and his position disagreeable, he will avail himself of Melbourne’s speech and resign. It is universally thought that he must send Turton home whatever he may do himself.

July 8th, 1838

Lord Duncannon told me yesterday that Melbourne went to Lord Durham when he heard he was going to take out Turton, and told him that the odium of such an appointment would be so great that it was impossible he could consent to it, and it must not take place. Durham sulked over it for two days, but finally acquiesced, and engaged that Turton should only go out as his private friend. Duncannon added that Durham was much mistaken if he thought Melbourne would endure this disobedience and breach of engagement. Durham had made his entry into Quebec on a white long-tailed charger, in a full general’s uniform, surrounded by his staff, and the first thing he did was to appoint Sir John Doratt (his doctor, whom he had got knighted before he went) Inspector-General of Hospitals, superseding all the people there.

July 14th, 1838

At Newmarket all this past week. Nothing of consequence occurred here except the debate in the House THE NAVAL INSTRUCTIONS. of Lords upon Brougham’s motion for the production of naval instructions about Sardinian ships, which was only lost by the numbers being equal. The Duke of Wellington, according to his custom, refused to be factious, and when Melbourne said that it would be highly inconvenient to produce any instructions, he declared against the motion and left the House. Brougham was furious, and many of the high Tories greatly provoked. Brougham said, ‘Westminster Abbey is yawning for him.’ Ellenborough, Mansfield, and Harewood stayed and voted, Aberdeen went away. After all their fury, however, the Tories are beginning (as I was told last night) to come to their senses. The Duke was quite in the right; there is no doubt that some very unwise and improper instructions have issued from the Admiralty, and their purport has got abroad by the indiscretion of somebody, but we only know, or rather suspect from public rumour, that such is the case; they have never been acted upon if they do exist; no overt act has been done, and the production of this document might be attended with very seriously inconvenient consequences. Brougham cares for nothing but the pleasure of worrying and embarrassing the Ministers, whom he detests with an intense hatred; and the Tories, who are bitter and spiteful, and hate them merely as Ministers and as occupants of the places they covet, and not as men, are provoked to death at being baulked in the occasion that seemed to present itself of putting them into a difficulty. The Duke, whose thoughts are steadily directed to the public good, and to that alone, will lend himself to no such vexatious purposes; he looks at the position of the Government in relation with foreign powers, and deals with it as a national and not as a party question. It is in this spirit that he constantly and inflexibly acts, though not failing to give Ministers a pretty sharp lecture every now and then. His forbearance has annoyed his own supporters to such a degree that they keep up a continual under-growl, and are always lamenting the decay of his faculties, and if they dared and knew how, they would gladly substitute some other leader for him. The ‘ardor prava jubentium’ has, however, no effect whatever on him: it neither ruffles his serenity nor shakes his purpose. The Whigs laud him to the skies, which provokes the Tories all the more, nor does their praise spring in all probability from a purer or more unselfish source than the complaints of their adversaries, for they are more rejoiced at finding so often this plank of safety than struck with admiration at his magnanimity. Wise, moderate, and impartial men of all parties view the Duke’s conduct in its true light, and render him that justice the full measure of which it is reserved for history and posterity to pay. No greater contrast can be displayed than between the minds of the Duke of Wellington and Brougham. It is a curious and an interesting study to examine and compare their powers, faculties, attainments, the moral and intellectual constitutions of the men, their respective careers, their results, and the judgement of the world upon them.

Yesterday morning I met Macaulay,[16] and walked with him for some time. He talked of the necessity of a coalition between the Parliamentary leaders, which might be effected, provided they would lay aside personal feelings and jealousies; that Lyndhurst might be the greatest obstacle; he thought a strong Government ought to be formed, one that should not live as this does from hand to mouth, and by no means but by a coalition could this be effected. The Radicals, he said, were clearly extinct, being reduced, as far as he could learn, ‘to Grote and his wife;’ that he had not been prepared for the tranquillity and contentment that he found on his return to England; that he was as great a Radical as anybody, that is, that if ever the voice of the nation should be as clearly and universally pronounced for reform of the House of Lords, or any other great change, as it had been for the Reform Bill, he should be for it too, but that now he did not think it worth while to give such projects a thought, and it no more occurred to him to entertain them in this country than it would to advocate the establishment of a representative THE RECEPTION OF MARSHAL SOULT. government in Turkey, or a monarchy and hereditary peerage in America. I told him that I did not see how a coalition was feasible, or how conflicting pretensions could be adjusted. He said it seemed to be a matter of course that Peel must lead the House of Commons. I said that the other alternative the Government had was to get rid of some of its lumber, and take in him, Morpeth, and Sir George Grey, and so present a more respectable front—to which he said nothing.

It is really curious to see the manner in which Soult has been received here, not only with every sort of attention and respect by persons in the most respectable ranks in life, members of all the great trading and commercial bodies, but with enthusiasm by the common people; they flock about him, cheer him vociferously, and at the review in the park he was obliged to abandon both his hands to be shaken by those around him. The old soldier is touched to the quick at this generous reception, and has given utterance to his gratitude and his sensibility on several occasions in very apt terms. It is creditable to John Bull, but I am at a loss to understand why he is so desperately fond of Soult; but Johnny is a gentleman who generally does things in excess, and seldom anything by halves. In the present instance it is a very good thing, and must be taken as a national compliment and as evidence of national goodwill towards France, which cannot fail to make a corresponding impression in that country. But the French will not meet us cordially and frankly and with an equally amicable spirit; they are not such good fellows as the English; they have more vanity and jealousy, and are not so hearty; still it will not be without effect.

July 18th, 1838

The Duke of Sussex has quarrelled with the Government on account of their refusal to apply to Parliament for an increased allowance, and his partisans are very angry with Melbourne, and talk of withdrawing their support. The Duke began by requesting Melbourne to bring the matter before the Cabinet, which he did, and the result was that they informed his Royal Highness it could not be done. He was very angry, and the rest of the Royal family (glad to make bad blood between him and the Whigs) fomented his discontent. The Duke of Cambridge went to Melbourne and begged that he might not stand in the way of his brother’s wishes, from its being supposed that if they were complied with, his own claims could likewise be urged. The Duke, finding he could do nothing with the Government, determined to do what he could for himself, and began to canvass and exert all the influence he possessed among Members of Parliament, and (as he thought) with such success, that he counted upon 250 votes in his favour. He then employed Mr. Gillon to move the matter in the House of Commons, having previously conveyed to Melbourne his intention to do what he could for himself, but not making any communication to Lord John Russell, and directing his confidants to conceal from him what it was intended to do. Accordingly John Russell paid very little attention to the motion of Mr. Gillon, which he saw entered on the Order Book, and when it came on, he opposed it. Peel pronounced a very warm eulogium upon John Russell’s conduct, and the motion was rejected by ninety to forty, the Duke’s anticipated supporters having dwindled away to that paltry number. Bitter was his mortification and violent his resentment at this result. He wrote an angry letter to John Russell, to which John sent a temperate and respectful reply, but his Royal Highness has since informed Melbourne that he shall withdraw his support from the Government, and the Duke of Cleveland has likewise given notice that the conduct of Government to the Duke ‘makes the whole difference’ in his disposition to support them. The Duke’s friends generally have expressed so much dissatisfaction, that it is matter of considerable embarrassment and annoyance to the Government, and if this was to be carried to the length of opposition, or even neutrality, it might be productive of serious consequences, weak as they are. But as this session is about to close, means will probably be found of pacifying them before the opening of the next. Much of the mischief has arisen from the want of communication and understanding between the parties. It CLAIM OF THE DUKE OF SUSSEX. seems strange that Lord John Russell should have been ignorant of the Duke’s intentions when Melbourne had been apprised of them, and the latter ought to have imparted to the former all he had learnt with regard to them. Lord John Russell says that they seldom communicate except with regard to matters which come before the Cabinet, and that if he had learnt that Lord Radnor or any other peer was going to make some such motion in the House of Lords, he should not have thought of speaking to Melbourne about it, each managing his matters in his own way in the House to which he belongs. But though he makes this excuse for Melbourne, it was great laches in the latter, after what had passed, not to tell Lord John what was in preparation, when some communication with the Duke’s friends might have prevented the discussion. On the other hand, it was very bad policy in the Duke not to be more open with the leader of the House of Commons and to attempt to carry his object by force. But he had buoyed himself up with the notion that his popularity was so great that there would be a Parliamentary demonstration in his favour sufficient to compel the Ministers to yield, and he now sees how much he overrated it, and miscalculated the support he fancied he had secured. What he complains of with the greatest bitterness is the conduct of Lord Howick in having asked Mr. Hawes to oppose this grant: ‘that the son of the man whose administration I made only a few years ago should have canvassed others to oppose me is the deepest wound that ever was inflicted on me.’ He fancies (it seems) that he made Lord Grey’s administration!

The Duke has some sort of claim, under all the circumstances. When King William came to the throne, he told him he was anxious to do what he could for him, and would therefore give him the best thing at his disposal, the Rangership of Windsor Park, 4,000ℓ. a year; but immediately after came Lord Grey’s economical reforms, which swept this away. The King then gave him Bushey; but it was found necessary to settle a jointure house on the Queen Dowager and Bushey was taken from him for this purpose. At last they gave him the Rangership of Hyde Park, and he had actually drawn for the first quarter’s salary, when the salary was done away with, so that he has been three times disappointed, and he really is over head and ears in debt. It is now more difficult than ever to do anything for him, because all parties are committed, and there is a vote of the House of Commons recorded against the grant. In his dudgeon, he talks of withdrawing from politics, and of selling by public auction all his personal property, library included.

July 23rd, 1838

I went the other night (Friday) to Burghersh’s[17] opera at Braham’s theatre. A vast deal of fine company, and prodigious applause; tolerable music, moderately sung, but a favourable audience. When it was over they insisted upon his appearing, and, after some delay, he thrust his head out from an obscure pit-box in which he had been sitting and bowed and smiled; but this was not enough, and they would have him on the stage; so a great clapping and shouting went on, among the most vociferous being the Duke of Wellington, who enjoyed the fun like a boy, laughing and beckoning to Burghersh, and bawling ‘Maestro! Maestro!’ till at last, vanquished by the enthusiasm of the audience and the encouragement of his friends, he appeared at a corner of the stage; then came a shower of bouquets, which were picked up by Mrs. Bishop and the other women and presented to him, and so ended the triumphant night.

July 24th, 1838

High Church has been recently reading lectures to Her Majesty the Queen in the shape of two sermons preached at the Chapel Royal by Mr. Perceval and Mr. Hook.[18] The Bishop of London was cognizant of Mr. Perceval’s intention, and he preached himself for several Sundays, probably for the purpose of keeping him out of the pulpit; but, the Bishop having had a fall from his horse and broken his MR. HOOK’S SERMON. collar-bone, Mr. Perceval found his opportunity. The Bishop, however, previously warned the Queen that she must expect a very strong sermon, which naturally excited her curiosity, and when she heard it it did not appear to her so strong as she had expected. The Bishop’s advice or his own reflexion may have induced Mr. Perceval to soften it. He made an attack upon Peel (that is, upon somebody whom they concluded to be Peel), reproaching him with sacrificing his conscience to political objects in consenting to Catholic emancipation, not totidem verbis, but in words to this effect. Hook’s sermon appears to have been the stronger of the two. He told the Queen that the Church would endure let what would happen to the throne. On her return to Buckingham House, Normanby, who had been at the chapel, said to her, ‘Did not your Majesty find it very hot?’ She said, ‘Yes, and the sermon was very hot too.’

July 28th, 1838

The letters between Lord Palmerston and Mr. Urquhart which appeared two days ago in the ‘Times,’ have made a very great sensation, and thrown the friends of the former into great alarm. Urquhart’s letter is so enormously long, so overlaid with matter, and so stuffed with acrimonious abuse, that it is difficult to seize the points of it; but that to which general attention is directed is the positive assertion of Lord Palmerston that he had nothing to do with the ‘Portfolio,’ and the announcement of Urquhart that in consequence of such denegation he will demonstrate that Palmerston had everything to do with it. He is said to make exceedingly light of it, and asserts that he can clear himself of all the imputations Mr. Urquhart seeks to cast upon him. He has, however, committed a great blunder in entering into a paper war at all. In his letter he correctly lays down the principle of the irresponsibility and omnipotence of a Secretary of State in relation to his agents, and there he ought to have stopped, and, acting on that principle, have declined any controversy; but he entered into it, and descended from his pedestal; and, though his letter is clever and well written, there are some very weak points in it, and some things which incline one to doubt his veracity. Who, for example, can believe that when Strangways[19] gave him a letter from Urquhart containing (as he informed him) a statement of his conduct, which conduct he thought so reprehensible that he had desired Strangways to admonish and caution him, he should have put this letter in his pocket, and not even have broken the seal till a long time after? The Government people are evidently in great consternation, and it is very remarkable that not a line of contradiction has appeared in any of Palmerston’s papers. No less than three men (Labouchere, Morpeth, and Le Marchant) spoke to me about it yesterday, full of doubt and anxiety, and very curious to know ‘what people said.’

Le Marchant told me that Palmerston was a strange mixture of caution and imprudence; that as long as he did not commit himself on paper he thought himself safe; that he would see any newspaper editor who called on him, and often communicate to such persons matters of great delicacy; yet, at the very time he would do this, he demurred to a request that was made to him to communicate freely with him (Le Marchant) and Drummond, who were managing the press on the part of Government; and this reserve was exercised towards him when he was Brougham’s private secretary, cognisant of all that Brougham knew (which, of course, was everything), and frequently employed to communicate MR. URQUHART AND LORD PALMERSTON. verbally between the Chancellor and his colleagues on the most confidential matters.

The history of Urquhart is this: William IV. was nearly mad upon the subject of Russia, and Sir Herbert Taylor[20] either partook of his opinions or ministered to his prejudices. Urquhart, who had been in the East, published a violent anti-Russian pamphlet, which made some noise and which recommended him to the notice of Taylor, and through him to that of the King. His Majesty took up Urquhart, and recommended him to Palmerston. Palmerston was not sorry to have an opportunity of gratifying the King, with whom the Ministers were never on cordial terms, and probably he was not then disinclined to act (as far as he dared) upon Urquhart’s views. Accordingly he appointed him—a very extraordinary appointment it was thought at the time—Secretary of Embassy at Constantinople. There can be no doubt that Urquhart considered himself appointed to that station on account of the opinions he professed, and for the express purpose of giving them effect. He was very likely told so by the King, and left to infer as much by Palmerston. The letter of Strangways, which has appeared in the course of the correspondence, shows that the communications from the Foreign Office were in this spirit. At the same time Palmerston took care not to commit himself in writing. When the death of the King was approaching, Palmerston foresaw that he would have to change his tone with regard to Eastern politics, and consequently that it would be convenient to throw over Urquhart, which he proceeded to do. This man, first his tool and then his victim, turned out to be bold, unprincipled, and clever, and finding his prospects ruined and his reputation damaged, he turned fiercely upon him whom he considered as his persecutor and betrayer. It is fortunate for Palmerston that the matter has broken out at the end of the Session when people are all on the wing and there is not time to sift anything to the bottom, but still the charges are so grave, and they involve such serious consequences and considerations, that it is absolutely necessary the truth should be manifested one way or another.[21] The Foreign Ministers all believe that Palmerston is guilty. Dedel told me last night that Pozzo had said to him, ‘Quant à moi, je ne dirai pas un mot; mais si tout cela est vrai, il faut aller aux galères pour trouver un pareil forfait.’ Graham said to me that he was sincerely sorry for it, inasmuch as he had personally a regard for Palmerston; that no man was ever a better, more honourable, or kinder colleague, more anxious to smooth differences and adjust disputes; that he could not attack him in the House of Commons, neither would Stanley; that Peel, who hated him, would not dislike doing so, but that he was too cautious to trust implicitly to Urquhart’s assertions, and to commit himself by acting on them; that there was nobody else capable of dealing with the subject well, and that Canning[22] ought not, for the same reasons (only much stronger in his case) that restrained himself and Stanley.

The bishops were at loggerheads in the House of Lords the other night on the Ecclesiastical Discipline Bill. Exeter (Phillpotts), in a most venomous speech, attacked the Archbishop, whose mildness was stimulated into an angry reply; but Exeter gained his point, for both Brougham and the Duke were for postponing the Bill. Phillpotts would have made a great bishop in the days of Bonner and Gardiner, or he would have been a Becket, or, still better, a Pope either in the palmy days of papal power or during the important period of reaction which succeeded the Reformation. He seems cast in the mould of a Sixtus.

August 3rd, 1838

The following panegyric on the sixth volume of the Duke’s Despatches, evidently written by no common hand, was given by Dr. Ferguson to Edward Villiers,[23] the Doctor not knowing the author:—

MACAULAY’S LIFE IN INDIA. ‘The sixth volume appears to me among the most extraordinary of human productions, ancient or modern. It is not the mere power of sagacity, vigilance, acute and comprehensive reasoning, or, in short, the intellectual perfection of the book, various and wonderful as it is, which affects my mind most deeply: it is the love of justice, the love of truth, the love of humanity, the love of country, the fine temper, the tolerance of error, the mildness of reproof, the superb morality of the great and masculine spirit displayed throughout it, which it is impossible for an honest man to observe without affection and admiration.’

August 8th, 1838

James Stephen yesterday was talking to me about Macaulay. He came to him soon after his return from India, and told him that when there he used to get up at five every morning (as everybody else did), and till nine or ten he read Greek and Latin, and went through the whole range of classical literature of every sort and kind; that one day in the Government library he had met with the works of Chrysostom, fourteen Greek folios, and that he had taken home first one volume and then another, till he had read the whole through, that is, he had not read every word, because he had found that it contained a great deal of stuff not worth reading, but he had carefully looked at every page, and had actually read the greater part. His object now is to devote himself to literature, and his present project, to write a History of England for the last 150 years, in which Stephen says he would give scope to his fine imagination in the delineation of character, and bring his vast stores of knowledge to the composition of the narrative, and would, without doubt, produce a work of astonishing power and interest. Macaulay says if he had the power of recalling everything he has ever written and published and of destroying it all, he would do so, for he thinks that his time has been thrown away upon opuscula unworthy of his talents. This is, however, a very preposterous squeamishness and piece of pride or humility, whichever it may be called, for no man need be ashamed of producing anything perfect in its kind, however the kind may not be the highest, and his reviews are perfect in their way. I asked Stephen by what mental process Macaulay had contrived to accumulate such boundless stores of information, and how it was all so sorted and arranged in his head that it was always producible at will. He said that he had first of all the power of abstraction, of giving his undivided attention to the book and the subject on which he was occupied; then, as other men read by syllables or by words, he had the faculty, acquired by use, of reading by whole sentences, of swallowing, as it were, whole paragraphs at once, and thus he infinitely abbreviated the mere mechanical part of study; that as an educated man would read any number of pages much more quickly than an uneducated man, so much more quickly would Macaulay read than any ordinary man. Therefore it is first and foremost the power of abstraction, that faculty of attention and of rendering up his mind to the matter before him, which makes all his reading profitable, and leaves nothing to be wasted and frittered away. Then the acquired habit of devouring at a glance a vast surface of print, so that, like the dragon of Wantley, to whom

he can discuss a Greek folio while an ordinary man is dawdling or boggling over a pamphlet or a newspaper.

Nature has certainly cast the mind of Macaulay in a different mould from that of common men. There is no more comparison between his brain and such a one as mine than between a hurdy-gurdy in the street and the great organ at Haarlem; but it is probably not true that nature has made all the difference or the greatest part of it. If the hurdy-gurdy was kept in constant tune and the great instrument was never played upon, and its barrels and tubes allowed to grow rusty, the former would at length discourse the more eloquent music of the two. No care or cultivation indeed could have made me what Macaulay is, but if he had wasted his time and frittered away his intellects as I have LORD DURHAM’S ORDINANCE. done mine, he would only have been an ordinary man; while if I had been carefully trained and subjected to moral discipline, I might have acted a creditable and useful part.

August 10th, 1838

Lord Durham[24] has got into a fine scrape with his Ordinance, which is clearly illegal. Brougham brought it forward on Tuesday night in an exulting speech, or rather in many exulting speeches, one of which contained some eloquent passages. He was transported with joy at having, as he said, ‘got them at last.’ The Duke supported Brougham, but with more temper and dignity; the Ministers made but a poor defence, if defence it could be called. Durham’s appointments cancelled and his proclamations declared illegal will neither sweeten his temper nor exalt his character in Canada.

August 11th, 1838

Brougham introduced his Bill of Indemnity (a Declaratory Bill) in an admirable speech, dignified, calm, and ably reasoned. Melbourne was imprudent enough to talk of ‘a trap having been laid for Durham,’ at which the Duke was very angry, and made a strong speech. Last night they announced that they mean to let this Bill pass, for that there is a necessity for some such Bill. It certainly admits of a doubt whether Durham’s Ordinance is illegal, except as relates to transporting people to Bermuda, but it is inexcusable that he should not have been better advised and more cautious than to make any such blunder. We were told that Turton’s indifferent moral character was to be overlooked in favour of his great legal capacity, and now it appears that his law is not a jot better than his morals.

Yesterday I met Mr. Barnes at dinner for the purpose of being introduced to him: an agreeable man enough, with evidently a vast deal of information, but his conversation bears no marks of that extraordinary vigour and pungency for which the articles in the ‘Times’ are so distinguished.[25]

August 12th, 1838

Lord Melbourne agreed to the Indemnity Bill, but with many complaints of the bad effect the discussion would have in Canada. Brougham was triumphant, the Duke moderate and conciliatory. No doubt Brougham, in hitting this blot, was animated with nothing but the delight of firing a double shot into Durham there and the Ministry here, and as to the consequences he cared not a straw; but I am unable to perceive how it would have been possible to pass the Ordinance sub silentio, its illegality being clear, and so far from its being dangerous to discuss the matter in Parliament, it is fortunate that the case occurred before Parliament broke up, so that the necessary Acts may pass to secure Durham and all others acting under his authority from the consequences which might have arisen from a later discovery of the irregularity of his proceedings; for what might not have happened if this Ordinance had been published during the recess and pronounced illegal by high legal authority and taken up by the press? The Government must have confirmed it on their own responsibility, or disallowed it by their own authority; they would not have dared do the first, and their disallowance would have been fraught with as serious consequences as a parliamentary condemnation. By Melbourne’s own showing, and for the reasons which he says induced him to agree to the Bill—namely, that one part of the Ordinance is clearly illegal, and that it is impossible to take one part and to reject another—he ought himself to have come to Parliament for an Indemnity Bill and a Declaratory Act. The question resolves itself into this: what power would the Colonial Legislature have had if the Act had not passed by which the constitution was suspended? and would it have been competent to do what Durham has done? Upon this point THE ORDINANCE DISALLOWED. authorities differ, but everybody agrees that, whatever the Colonial Legislature could have done, Durham (with his Council) can do. If, however, Parliament did not think fit to define his power, and great doubts exist as to its extent, the reasonable, indeed the indispensable course seems to be that those doubts should be as speedily as possible removed, and the amount of his authority clearly and expressly ascertained.

August 13th, 1838

At a Council to-day to disallow Durham’s Ordinance. Nothing was sent from the Colonial Office, and I did not know what it was for till I saw Lord Lansdowne. He told me, and then I wrote the Order for the Queen to approve, and he took it in to her. Presently Glenelg arrived, and announced that nothing could be done, for the authenticated copy under the Great Seal of the Colony was not arrived. Then a consultation was held: Lord Lansdowne was for not minding about the Great Seal, and Melbourne chuckled and grunted, and said, ‘Why, you knock over his Ordinances, and he won’t care about the form, will he?’ I said, ‘If there is no precedent, make one,’ and accordingly the Order passed. They are very angry with the House of Lords, and Lord John said they had behaved very ill, and ought to have waited till the whole case was before them: but I think it was all before them.

August 20th, 1838

At Stoke on Saturday, where Lord Sefton is sinking to the grave in a miserable state of depression and mental debility. Up by the railroad and dined at Holland House for the first time for above a year; sat next to Lord FitzGerald at dinner, who lamented to me the loss of the Corporation Bill; he said he would not have consented to the lesser qualification, but would have agreed to all the other clauses if he had had his own way. The continuance of the trusts in the hands of the old Corporation he thought unwise, calculated to offend feelings and prejudices, and inconsistent with their own opinion of the corporators themselves. Wharncliffe, on the other hand, told me some time ago that he did not care about the qualification, but he defended, though feebly, the trusts. This shows how dissatisfied the moderate and sensible of the party are with their own proceedings.

August 23rd, 1838

In looking back at the past Session, unexampled in duration, the first thing that occurs to one is how uneventful it has been, and how precisely the political state of affairs has ended as it began. The characters of certain conspicuous men have manifested themselves in a very striking manner, but that is all; the Government are still in their places, not a jot stronger than they were, and the Opposition maintain their undiminished phalanx without being at all nearer coming into power. The House of Commons uniformly supports the Government, the House of Lords frequently opposes it, but the difference between the two Houses seldom swells to a dispute; it is languidly carried on and carelessly regarded, the country at large not seeming to mind who are in or who are out. The great meteor of the year has been Brougham, who, by common consent, has given proofs of the undiminished force of his wonderful capacity, and who has spoken with as much, if not with greater eloquence than at any previous period of his life. But while he has excited no small degree of wonder and admiration, he has not raised his reputation for wisdom or honesty. He has exhibited such an unbridled rage against the Government, he has appeared to be animated with so much spite and malice, without a particle of public spirit, but only with a vindictive determination to punish them for having rejected him, that the world has only regarded him and his performances as they would look at a great actor on the stage. So bent has he been upon worrying the Ministers, so determined his enmity to them, that he has sought to ally himself with the most extreme sections of opposition, congregating with the Roebucks, Wakleys, and Leaders in the morning, contriving and concocting with them measures of ultra-Radicalism, then hugging Lyndhurst, bowing down to the Duke, courting the Tory lords, and figuring, flirting, and palavering at night at the routs of the Tory ladies. In the House of Lords, Lyndhurst was well content to hunt in couples with him; but the Duke has kept him at arm’s REVIEW OF THE SESSION. length, and though always on civil, would never be on intimate terms with him. Far different has been the Duke’s own career, for he has, throughout the Session, displayed a dignity, candour, and moderation, without any tameness or indifference or inactivity, which raise him to the highest rank as a statesman and a patriot, and show him equally mindful of his own honour and his country’s good. He alone has moderated the rancour of Lyndhurst, kept in check the violence of Brougham, and restrained the impetuosity and impatience of his party. His abstinence from opposition exceedingly provoked his followers, for, with the exception of the question of the appointment of magistrates by the Chancellor, upon which he treated the latter with considerable asperity, and blamed his conduct severely, he displayed uniform leniency and forbearance; at the end of the session, indeed, he supported Brougham in his attack upon Durham, though not by any means joining in it with the same animus. Melbourne, very soon after the commencement of the session, openly, avowedly, and intentionally quarrelled with Brougham and set him at defiance. However unequal to him on the whole, he came off tolerably well in the little skirmishes which constantly took place between them, and he derived a strength and security from the Duke’s forbearance or support, which enabled him to jog on without sustaining any material damage from Brougham’s terrible assaults. None of his colleagues were of much use to him, and Glenelg got so cruelly mauled at first, that he had afterwards no mind to mingle more than he could help in the fray.

In the House of Commons the debates have been much less interesting and exciting than in the House of Lords. John Russell has continued steadily to advance in public estimation as a speaker and political leader, and Morpeth and Sir George Grey have taken higher places, while Rice and Thomson have lost ground, and Hobhouse has sunk into utter insignificance. Peel has, throughout the Session, acted a moderate, cautious part, and Stanley and Graham have said and done little or nothing, both parties, as if by common consent, keeping each other at bay, and alike conscious that their relative strength is too equal to admit of any great triumph on either side. This balance of parties keeps the Ministers in place, but keeps them weak and nearly powerless either for good or for evil. It has not, however, had the effect of exalting the third party (the Radical), which has, on the contrary, sunk in numbers, reputation, and influence. The conduct of the ultra-Radicals in the House of Commons, on the outbreak of the Canadian insurrection, revealed their real disposition and disgusted the country, and, for the present, nothing can be lower than the Radical interest, or more feeble and innocuous than the revolutionary principle. The great mass of the Tories are always fretting and fuming at the Whigs retaining possession of office, and are impatient to assault them in front, and indignant that they do not of their own accord resign, but the wiser and the cooler know that however weak the Whigs may be as a Government, and however insufficient their power to execute all they would like to do, they are fortified in their places by certain barriers which their adversaries are still more powerless to break through; for they have the cordial, undoubted support of the Queen, they are the Ministers of her choice, and they have a majority (a small but a clear and a certain majority) in the House of Commons. A great Tory principle therefore coalesces with a great Whig principle to maintain them in office; for the Tories,—who were indignant at what they considered an invasion of the King’s prerogative in 1835, when the House of Commons would not let him choose his own Ministers, or, which is the same thing, so continually thwarted the Ministers of his choice as to compel them to resign, and left him no alternative but that of taking back those whom he had dismissed—the Tories could not with any consistency deny to the Queen the exercise of the same authority sanctioned by the support of the House of Commons, which they claimed for King William even against the declared opinion of the House. Nothing is left for them, therefore, but a sulky acquiescence in the present state of things; but they indemnify themselves OPPOSITION IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS. by placing the House of Lords in the new position of an assailant of the Queen’s Government, and the Peers, without daring to assert any co-ordinate authority with the House of Commons as to the choice of Ministers, evince their disapprobation of that choice by frequently thwarting their most important measures. It is curious that none of them—not even Lyndhurst himself, perhaps not the Duke of Wellington—seems to perceive that in the midst of their horror of innovation and dread of great constitutional changes, they have themselves made a great practical change in the constitutional functions of the House of Lords; that it is a departure from the character and proper province of that House to array itself in permanent and often bitter hostility to the Government, and to persist in continually rejecting measures recommended by the Crown and passed by the Commons. When the House of Lords opposed and thwarted the Ministers during the last two years of King William’s reign, they may have justified themselves on their own Tory principle, and (assuming as a fact that the King was in the hands of a faction, from whose bondage he could not release himself), that they were only supporting the Crown when they opposed the Ministers whom the House of Commons had forced upon him, and therefore, both as Tories and as Conservatives, they were taking a consistent, constitutional, and prudent course; but even if this was true then, it is certainly not true now, and it is, I believe, the first time that there is no party in the House of Lords supporting the Crown, nor any individual acting upon that principle, but all are either Whigs or Tories arrayed against each other and battling for power.

CHAPTER IV.

The Queen and Lord Melbourne — The Battersea Schools — A Council at Windsor — A Humble Hero — Lord Durham’s Resignation — Duke of Wellington’s Campaigns — The Grange — Lord Durham’s Return — Death of Lord Sefton — Lord Durham’s Arrival — His Reception in the Country — Position of the Radicals — A Visit to Windsor Castle — Lord Brougham’s ‘Letter to the Queen’ — Lord Durham repudiates the Radicals — A Lecture at Battersea — Dinner at Holland House — Curran and George Ponsonby — Prospect of the New Year — The Petition of the Serjeants-at-Law — Reconciliation with Lord Durham — Murder of Lord Norbury — The Corn Laws attacked — Lord Palmerston and the ‘Portfolio’ — The Serjeants’ Case — Brougham and Lyndhurst ‘done up’ — Opening of the Session — Resignation of Lord Glenelg — State of Parties — Lord Durham’s Report — Lord Glenelg’s Retirement — Lord Normanby, Colonial Minister — Corn Law Repeal — Sir Francis Bond Head — Gore House — Lady Blessington.

September 7th, 1838

Nothing to record of any sort or kind: London a desert; I went to-day to Windsor for a Council, was invited by the Queen (through Melbourne) to stay and dine, but made an excuse on the score of business, and luckily had a plausible one to make.

September 12th, 1838

George Villiers, who came from Windsor on Monday, told me he had been exceedingly struck with Lord Melbourne’s manner to the Queen, and hers to him: his, so parental and anxious, but always so respectful and deferential; hers, indicative of such entire confidence, such pleasure in his society. She is continually talking to him; let who will be there, he always sits next her at dinner, and evidently by arrangement, because he always takes in the lady-in-waiting, which necessarily places him next her, the etiquette being that the lady-in-waiting sits next but one to the Queen. It is not unnatural, and to him it is peculiarly interesting. I have no doubt he is passionately fond of her as he might be THE QUEEN AND LORD MELBOURNE. of his daughter if he had one, and the more because he is a man with a capacity for loving without having anything in the world to love. It is become his province to educate, instruct, and form the most interesting mind and character in the world. No occupation was ever more engrossing or involved greater responsibility. I have no doubt that Melbourne is both equal to and worthy of the task, and that it is fortunate she has fallen into his hands, and that he discharges this great duty wisely, honourably, and conscientiously. There are, however, or rather may be hereafter, inconveniences in the establishment of such an intimacy, and in a connexion of so close and affectionate a nature between the young Queen and her Minister; for whenever the Government, which hangs by a thread, shall be broken up, the parting will be painful, and their subsequent relations will not be without embarrassment to themselves, nor fail to be the cause of jealousy in others. It is a great proof of the discretion and purity of his conduct and behaviour, that he is admired, respected, and liked by all the Court.

Yesterday I went to Battersea and dined with Robert Eden, the Rector,[1] and he took me before dinner to see his lions, and introduced me to scenes very different from those which I am used to see. We went to different manufactories, a saw-mill, a pottery, to the lunatic asylum, to the workhouse, and we visited several poor people at their cottages, when he enquired into the circumstances of the sick or the indigent; but what struck me most forcibly was the school (upon Bell’s system) and the extraordinary acquirements of the boys. Eden examined them, and invited me to do so, in arithmetic, geography, English history, and the Bible, and their readiness and correctness were really surprising. I doubt whether many of the children of the rich, who are educated at a vast expense at private or public schools, could pass such an examination as these young paupers who are instructed at the cost of about one guinea a year. The greatest punishment that can be inflicted on one of these boys is to banish him from school, such delight do they take in acquiring knowledge. He gave me a curious account of the state of his parish: there is no middle class of tradesmen in good circumstances; they are divided between the extremes of wealth and of poverty, masters and operatives; but amongst the latter there is a considerable amount of knowledge, though their minds are ill-regulated and their principles perverted. When first he came there the place abounded in disciples of Carlile, pure atheists, and when Carlile was in prison he was supported by their contributions; but though totally without religion they were not immoral, and among these men were some of the best husbands and fathers in the place, so much so that when Carlile told them that men might indulge in polygamy and take two wives, they were scandalised and disgusted, and began immediately to abandon him. Some were reclaimed and came to church, but the greater part, who required some powerful excitement, sought it in politics, and became deeply imbued with the most pernicious principles of hatred against all institutions, against the higher orders, and against property. The fountain from which they draw their opinions is a Sunday paper called the ‘Watchman,’ which is universally and greedily read: it is cleverly written, accommodated to their taste, and flatters all their worst propensities. Few people know these things and are aware of the poison that is thus circulating through the veins, and corrupting the blood, of the social mass. The desire for instruction and knowledge seems very general among the lower orders. Eden, with some others, has established evening lectures upon various subjects, which are crowded by anxious and attentive listeners of all ages and callings, who frequently hurry from their daily occupations, impatient to partake of the instruction which Eden and his curates, and often some of the better informed inhabitants of the place, are in the habit of dispensing.