THE LORD-LIEUTENANCY OF IRELAND.
May 3rd.—The Duke of Bedford came here this morning. They now find there are immense difficulties in the way of abolishing the office of Lord-Lieutenant at present; they are assured that if it was proposed the Repealers would raise a furious clamour and be joined by the Orangemen. Some Irishman (he did not tell me who), a sensible man and favourable to the abolition, tells him and Lord John this, consequently Lord John has told the Duke thathisgoing there would be the only solution of the difficulty. This difficulty, he says, is enormous and increasing; that everything tends to prove that dangers are thickening round them, and that next year they will have to propose measures that will be very unpopular. Bessborough has dictated to Lord John a most affecting letter; his daughter, Lady Emily, wrote also, saying that her father was so weak that he was scarcely intelligible, and she was not sure she had quite faithfully written what he had dictated, but that she had given the substance of it as well as she could. He tells Lord John that the dangers and difficulties are very great, and that he foresees their increase, and he expects him to appoint a man to succeed him who shall be firm and bold, and, above all, who will not seek for popularity. I found the Duke most unwilling, and almost, but not quite, decided not to go. He will go if Lord John insists on it, but he dreads and shrinks from it; neither his health, nerves, nor spirits are equal to such a task. The principal reason for his going is, that he alone can go temporarily, and Lord John does not contemplate hisremaining. Lord John says he cannot ask Clarendon to go on account of the expense, unless he was to stay there for three years. He says that not one of the men who have been mentioned will do for the office, especially Morpeth; and he thinks Bessborough's warning as to the sort of man they ought to choose was intended to point at Morpeth as the one they ought not to appoint. Morpeth himself is longing to go. 'It is now come to this,' the Duke said: 'it must be either Clarendon, myself, or Lords Justices.' He went from me to Clarendon to talk it over with him. Grey and Labouchere are the only members of the Cabinet to whom he has mentioned the matter. The Duke has had a long confidential letter from Arbuthnot about the Duke of Wellington, and his dread of Grey and his reforms, the object of it being to deter the Government from attempting anything else. It is clear they have dragged the Duke with them as far as he can be persuaded to go, and if they try anything more, and make any further attempts on his patience or condescension, he will then turn restive and resign.
DEATH OF LORD BESSBOROUGH.
June 7th.19—More than a month has elapsed since I have written anything, and from the usual cause, that of having been occupied with Epsom, Ascot, and Newmarket. The principal events which have occurred have been the deaths of Bessborough and O'Connell, which took place almost at the same time, within a day or two of one another. The departure of the latter, which not long ago would have excited the greatest interest and filled the world with political speculations, was heard almost with unconcern, so entirely had his importance vanished; he had in fact been for some time morally and politically defunct, and nobody seems to know whether his death is likely to prove a good or an evil, or a mere matter of indifference. The death of Bessborough excited far greater interest, and no man ever quitted the world more surrounded by sympathy, approbation, respect, and affection, than he did. During his lastillness, which he himself and all about him knew to be fatal, he was surrounded by a numerous and devoted family, and the people of Dublin universally testified their regard for him, and their grief at losing him. He continued in the uninterrupted possession of his faculties almost to the last hour of his existence, and he calmly discussed every matter of public and private interest, in conversation with his children and friends, or dictating letters to John Russell and his colleagues at home. He expired at eleven o'clock at night; at nine he felt his pulse and said he saw the end was approaching. He then sent for all his family, seventeen in number, saw them and took leave of them separately, and gave to each a small present he had prepared, and then calmly lay down to die; in less than two hours all was over. They say that his funeral was one of the finest and most striking sights possible from the countless multitudes which attended it, and the decorum and good feeling which were displayed. Clarendon has kept the whole of Bessborough's staff and household, with one exception; and he told them that he kept them on account of their attachment to his predecessor.
The reputation which Bessborough had acquired, which at the time of his death and since his Irish administration was very considerable, affords a remarkable example of the success which may be obtained by qualities of a superior description, without great talents, without knowledge and information, and without any power of speaking in Parliament. He had long been addicted to politics, and was closely connected by relationship or friendship with the most eminent Whig leaders. His opinions had always been strongly Liberal, and he seemed to have found the place exactly adapted to his capacity and disposition when he became the Whig whipper-in of the House of Commons; he was gradually initiated in all the secrets of that party, and he soon became a very important member of it from his various intimacies and the personal influence he was enabled to exercise. He had a remarkably calm and unruffled temper and very good sound sense. The consequence was that hewas consulted by everybody, and usually and constantly employed in the arrangement of difficulties, the adjustment of rival pretensions, and the reconciliation of differences, for which purposes some such man is indispensable and invaluable in every great political association. He continued to acquire fresh weight and influence, and at length nothing could be done without Duncannon as he then was. Everybody liked him, and King William, when he hated the rest of the Whigs, always testified good humour and regard for him. He took office and became a Cabinet Minister, and he contrived to do a vast deal of Parliamentary business, especially in the House of Lords, and carry bills through Parliament without ever making the semblance of a speech. In this way by his good nature and good sense, and an extreme liveliness and elasticity of spirits, which made him a very pleasant and acceptable member of society, he continued to increase in public reputation and private favour, and when the Government was formed last year, his appointment to the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland was generally approved of. He had almost always been on good terms with O'Connell, indeed he never was on bad terms with anybody; and as an Irishman he was agreeable to the people. In his administration, adverse and unhappy as the times were, he displayed great industry, firmness, and knowledge of the character and circumstances of the Irish people, and he conciliated the good will of those to whom he had been all his life opposed. Lord Roden, the head of the Orange party, who has all along acted a very honourable and patriotic part, afforded ample testimony to his merits, and gave him a very frank and generous support.
LORD CLARENDON GOES TO IRELAND.
There was a great pother for some time before his death about a successor. The candidates soon became reduced to three, though candidates they must not be called; that is, the choice lay between the Duke of Bedford, Clarendon, and Morpeth. Lord John communicated with the Duke and with Labouchere upon the subject, and perhaps with Lord Lansdowne, and, for a long time, he rather leant to the Duke's going, and tried to persuade him, not, however, withoutmisgivings; but he thought it not fair to ask Clarendon, and he had no mind to send Morpeth, who was dying to go. The Duke was rather tickled at the idea of the appointment, somewhat encouraged by the numerous invitations he received to take it, but desperately afraid of it all the time. To my surprise he did not absolutely reject it, as I thought he would have done. In this wavering and uncertain state of mind he broached the matter to Clarendon, who affected to repudiate it and to dread and dislike it, and urged the Duke to go himself. I sayaffected, because it soon became very clear to me, as it did to the Duke, that Clarendon had no disinclination to go, and would in fact be excessively mortified and disappointed if anybody went but himself. The play of human nature was amusing; the Duke was not quite willing to give it up, but much more afraid to go, and he enjoyed mightily all the expressions of a desire that he should be Lord-Lieutenant, which were addressed to him from various quarters; on the other hand, Clarendon treated it as a sacrifice and a misfortune; hesitated, objected, and did everything to make it appear as if it were a painful burthen cast upon him, but he was all the time in a great fright lest the Duke should be persuaded to accept it, and he said, and made me say to him, that one of his principal motives for accepting it himself was his desire to save the Duke from a burthen which would, he was sure, break him down with anxiety and labour. A great deal of time was wasted and much useless talk expended in fictitious fears and scruples, but at last it was settled that he should go, as it might just as well have been without any fuss or difficulty, for the truth is that he is the fittest man, and is universally considered so. Nothing can be more flattering and gratifying than the reception he has met with from all ranks and all parties, and he is now (whatever doubts or misgivings he may have had, and, in spite of his secret wishes, he probably had some) quite satisfied with his appointment.
The death of O'Connell, I have said, made little or no sensation here. He had quarrelled with half of his followers, he had ceased to be the head of a great party animatedby any great principle, or encouraged to pursue any attainable object; the Repeal cause was become despicable and hopeless without ceasing to be noisy and mischievous. O'Connell knew not what to say or what to do; he had become bankrupt in reputation and in power, and was no longer able to do much good or much harm; broken in health and spirits, and seeing Ireland penetrated by famine and sickness, and reduced to a condition of helpless dependence on England, having lost a great part of hisprestigein Ireland without having gained respect or esteem in England, he went away unregretted and unnoticed to breathe his last in a foreign land. He was received everywhere on his route with the marks of respect and admiration which were considered due to his wonderful career and to the great part he had played in the history of his country, and his memory has been treated with some appearance of affection in Ireland, and with a decent respect and forbearance here. History will speak of him as one of the most remarkable men who ever existed; he will fill a great space in its pages; his position was unique; there never was before, and there never will be again, anything at all resembling it. To rise from the humblest situation to the height of empire like Napoleon is no uncommon destiny; there have been innumerable successful adventurers and usurpers; but there never was a man who, without altering his social position in the slightest degree, without obtaining any office or station whatever, raised himself to a height of political power which gave him an enormous capacity for good or evil, and made him the most important and most conspicuous man of his time and country. It would not be a very easy matter to do him perfect justice. A careful examination of his career and an accurate knowledge of his character would be necessary for the purpose. It is impossible to question the greatness of his abilities or the sincerity of his patriotism. His dependence on his country's bounty, in the rent that was levied for so many years, was alike honourable to the contributors and the recipient; it was an income nobly given and nobly earned. Up to the conquest of Catholic Emancipationhis was certainly a great and glorious career. What he might have done and what he ought to have done after that, it is not easy to say, but undoubtedly he did far more mischief than good, and exhibited anything but a wise, generous, and patriotic spirit. In Peel's administration he did nothing but mischief, and it is difficult to comprehend with what object and what hope he threw Ireland into confusion, and got up that Repeal agitation, the folly and impracticability of which nobody must have known so well as himself.
THE GOVERNOR-GENERALSHIP OF INDIA.
June 14th.—The Duke of Bedford has been telling me what has been going on about India and the appointment of Hardinge's successor. In the first place Normanby has been making desperate attempts to get it, but Lord John will not hear of it, and believes the Directors would object to him if he was proposed. Lord John is resolved that this great appointment shall not be made an affair of party, and he desired the Chairs to furnish him with a list of the persons they would consider most eligible for the office of Governor-General without distinction of party. They sent him four or five names—Clarendon, Graham, I think Dalhousie, and the others I forget, but Normanby's was not among them. Lord John has made up his mind to offer the post to Graham, and has communicated his intention to the Duke of Wellington, at the same time consulting him about the military appointment. The Duke approves of Graham, and proposes Sir George Napier for Commander-in-Chief, to which Lord John agrees. Normanby, who had a suspicion that Graham was thought of, from something the Duke of Bedford had said to him, wrote him a long letter, strongly arguing against this appointment, and not a very bad argument either. Meanwhile I have seen Graham, and had a long conversation with him. It began about the Portuguese question, which is now going on in the House of Commons; but after discussing this and some electioneering matters, I asked him what his own projects were. He said he was indifferent about them and had settled nothing. I said, 'You know that it is reported in the world that you are likely to go to India.' He said he had three times refusedto go there; that it would always be a matter of much doubt and deliberation, both on private and public grounds, whether he should accept it if offered; but at present it was out of the question, for Lord John Russell was evidently animated by very implacable sentiments towards him, and he never would take an office from him while he was in such a disposition, and when the appointment would be clearly offered at the suggestion of others, and not by his own free will. He then talked a great deal about the feeling which subsisted between himself and the Whigs—of their resentment towards him; of the way in which he had been persecuted by them; of Lord John's sending for him in the autumn of 1845; about the change of government; how gratified he had been; how frankly he had behaved; how desirous he had been to give every aid in his power to his successor; how generally friendly to the Government, of which he gave instances; and then how hurt he had been at the bitterness and severity of Lord John's attack upon him in reply to his speech objecting to the exclusion of Catholics from the grant; that that speech had proved to him that Lord John's dislike of him was unmitigated and unappeasable. This is a very brief summary of a long discourse he made to me on the subject. I told him he was mistaken in Lord John's sentiments, which were by no means so bitter and hostile as he imagined, and on the occasion he alluded to, Lord John had spoken under great irritation and with strong resentment, thinking that Graham had made a most offensive and unjust speech, and that he had most unfairly done his best to embarrass the Government; that such was the general opinion of Lord John's friends, and I would not conceal from him my own opinion; that his speech had been calculated to produce that effect; that it had appeared to many people, to me amongst them, that Peel had been conscious of the effect produced by his (Graham's) speech, and had spoken, as he did, in a very different tone to repair the effect of it. He must not therefore infer from the vivacity of Lord John's tone on that occasion that he was animated by such sentiments as he ascribed to him; that I didnot mean to say he had any feelings of extreme cordiality; but I had reason to know that he rendered ample justice to his public character and capacity, and felt no bitterness towards him; that some day I would give him proofs of the truth of what I said, but that in the meantime I must beg him to take my word for it; and I entreated him not to deceive himself by the exaggerated, and, I was convinced, unfounded notion he entertained of Lord John's disposition. A great deal passed on this subject, and I found that he was very low and very much vexed, both on the above ground and about a very mortifying communication that had been made to him about Cumberland.
THE CUMBERLAND ELECTION.
Aglionby had informed him they were going to put up Charles Howard and William Marshall, which was an intimation that that they would not have him. He replied that he would not pledge himself about the two candidates, but would support Howard, saying civil things about Lord Carlisle and the whole family. The other day he got a letter, not very judiciously worded—cold, but intended to be civil—from Morpeth, announcing that he was going to support thetwocandidates on his own side of the House, accompanied with some expression of regret that his support could not rather have been given to him. Graham took this very ill, and was evidently excessively hurt at the way in which he was thus excluded from the representation. All these things were evidently souring his mind, and I strongly suspect stimulating him to act an unfriendly part in the Portuguese discussion, and I was therefore very glad that I had an opportunity of saying what I did, for I said quite enough to let him see that India is full in view, and I do not think he will now do anything to mar this prospect. He would not tell me what he or Peel meant to do, and Peel happens to be exceedingly out of humour in consequence of young Campbell's speech at Cambridge; so is Graham. Graham told me he never saw Peel so put out and so angry with anything, and they are the more so because old Jack (Lord Campbell) went down, they say, to Cambridge with his son.
June 19th.—I was obliged to break off in the midst of the above conversation, and have since been out of town. I told the Duke of Bedford all that had passed between Graham and me, and advised that Lord John should show him some civility, which he undertook that he should do. On Tuesday evening the Portuguese discussion was resumed in the Commons and came on in the Lords. I went down to hear Stanley speak, never having heard him before. His style and manner, fluency and expression, are admirable, and he speaks with an appearance of earnestness, even of dignity, that is marvellously striking; but nothing could be more injudicious than his speech, and I was as much disappointed with the matter of it as I was charmed with the manner. Never was there so ridiculous and contemptible an ending to an affair begun with such a flourish of trumpets and note of preparation, and which for a moment put the Government into a state of alarm. The whippers-in in both Houses had collected all their forces, and when the House of Lords met, a long night and a doubtful division were announced.
The first thing that happened was that Peel made an admirable speech in the House of Commons, strong in defence of Government, and without any 'buts' or drawbacks. He spoke very early. Very few people were there, and many went away after; so, finding the House in this state, George Bentinck made Newdigate count it out, and the whole thing thus fell to the ground. This he considered a very skilful piece of jockeyship, apparently unconscious of the ridicule which it cast on the whole affair. Great was the astonishment in the Lords when news was brought that the House of Commons had been counted out. Stanley had gone home to dinner, and after a few insignificant speeches (the Duke of Wellington having spoken strongly for the Government) nobody seemed disposed to go on. Clarendon went to Ellenborough and to Brougham, and asked them if they would not speak: both declined; the latter said it was very dull and he should say nothing. Accordingly they divided, many on both sides absent, and Government had a majority of twenty.Stanley was not present, and when he came back to the House found it all over. So ended this solemn farce. Stanley would have beaten the Government if he could, and have thought it very good fun, trusting to the majority he knew they would have in the Commons to induce them to put up with a defeat. Lord John, however, was not disposed to take it so quietly, and there can be very little doubt that Brougham and the rest saw that a division against Government in the Lords without any division for them in the Commons would make matters very different, and the sudden termination of the debate in the other House greatly cooled their ardour.
WYATT'S STATUE OF THE DUKE.
The other day I met John Russell in the Park as he was going to Apsley House by appointment with the Duke. He said he was going on important business (it was about the Indian appointments), and he asked me if I thought he had better say anything to him or not about the Statue.20I said 'Better not.' The Duke of Bedford told me after that it was very fortunate advice I gave Lord John, for if he had said anything there would have been an explosion. The Duke said to Arbuthnot, when Lord John wrote to say he wished to see him, 'What can he want? what can he be coming about? do you think it is about the Statue?' and then he went off on that sore subject, and said he should place his resignation in Lord John's hands! However, Lord John said nothing about it, and the Duke was put into great good humour by being consulted about the Indian affairs; and he said afterwards that he only wished they would get the pedestal made, put the Statue up, and have done with it. But it is curious, as showing how sensitive and irritable heis become, how the strong mind is weakened. He is, however, very happy on the whole, in excellent health, and treated with the greatest deference and attention by everybody. The Queen is excessively kind to him. On Monday his grand-daughter was christened at the Palace, and the Queen dined with him in the evening. She had written him a very pretty letter expressing her wish to be godmother to the child, saying she wished her to be called Victoria, which name was so peculiarly appropriate to a grand-daughter of his. All these attentions marvellously please him.
June 20th.—The Duke of Bedford told me he wanted to speak to me. I called on him, and he said, 'I wish you would see Graham again; a good deal has passed; I won't tell you what now, but I am curious to know what he will say to you in reference to his last conversation.' I accordingly called on Graham; he talked incessantlyde omnibus rebus, but never alluded to Lord John or himself, or India, or to what I had before said to him. I had considerable difficulty in getting anything in, but at last, just as I was going and seeing he was resolved to say nothing, I said 'I hope you have thought on what I said to you the other day, for I am quite certain I was right.' He broke in 'Oh, no, that is quite impossible,' and then began again upon Ireland, evidently determined to avoid the former subject. I returned to the Duke and told him what had passed between us, when with some difficulty I got him to tell me what had occurred. As soon as the Portuguese debate was over, Lord John wrote to Graham a very kind and handsome letter, and offered him India, saying that he wished to forget all their differences and only to remember that they had been colleagues in Lord Grey's Government. Graham asked leave to consult Peel, who at once put an extinguisher upon it, entreated him to decline it, and said that their support of the Government would be considered to have been given in reference to this appointment. Peel gave many reasons, which I now forget, against his taking it, and (as I suspect very reluctantly) Graham did decline the offer, of course with many expressions of gratitude and gratification. Peelhimself said nothing could be handsomer than the offer. Lord John, however, would not accept the refusal as final, and caused Graham to be informed that he should not appoint anybody else, but wait and see what might occur. Graham might not get a seat in the next Parliament, or the reasons which now influenced him might cease to exist; he would, therefore, not fill up the office till Sir John Hobhouse told him it was absolutely necessary to do so. So the matter stands at present. It is a profound secret only communicated 'tosomeof the Cabinet,' and Graham has not even told his wife. No wonder he was so reserved with me, though the Duke thinks he might as well have said that he was satisfied my opinion of Lord John's sentiments towards him was correct. Graham, who is always in the garret or in the cellar, was in such spirits the other day as compared with the day before, that it was easy to see something agreeable had happened to him. He talked of all sorts of things: poor laws, railroads, abolition of Lord-Lieutenancy, very good sense and friendly to the Government; said that they had been unlucky in Strutt's appointment, of which great things had been expected and which was a complete failure, and he strongly advised the Government should not persist in their Bill this year.21I told the Duke of Bedford this, and I find the Bill was withdrawn last night.
OFFERS TO SIR JAMES GRAHAM.
It is very curious how jealously and anxiously Peel's actions and disposition are scanned, and amusing to hear what people say of them. Bonham went to Arbuthnot the other day, and told him Peel was getting up a party, and expected to have 250 people in the next Parliament. Then Lady Westmorland went and told him that Peel had told her he had 120 followers in the House of Commons, and that he alone kept the Government in office. They put these things together, and inferred all sorts of deep designs and ambitious projects on his part. Arbuthnot told the Duke of Bedford, who told me. I laughed at them, andsaid that probably what Bonham and Lady Westmorland reported was false or exaggerated, and it was better to look at Peel's acts and see how they corresponded with such supposed intentions. He disclaims being the leader of any party at all,totidem verbis, and the other day he did not tell anybody what he was going to do. His speech was calculated to strengthen the Government, and to render them independent, whereas his policy would be to weaken them, if he had such designs as are imputed to him. I told Graham what I had heard, and what I had said. He said, 'Peel's position is a very extraordinary one, and he is determined to enjoy it. He has an immense fortune, is in full possession of his faculties and vigour, has great influence and consideration in Parliament and in the country; he has shown the world that he iscapax imperii. In this position he will not retire from public life to please any man; he does not want to be the head of a party, still less to return to office, but he will continue to take that part in public affairs which he considers best for the public service, reserving to himself the faculty of acting according to circumstances in any political contingency.' I forget the exact phraseology he used, but what he conveyed was that Peel had made no positive resolution never to enter into the public service again, and that circumstances might occur to induce him to do so, but that he neither desired nor expected anything of the kind, nor would do anything to bring it about. At present he is certainly acting a very creditable and a very useful part, and one, if he persists in it, which will redound to his honour, and greatly enhance his reputation. But it is difficult to feel entire confidence in a man who is not really high-minded. If he once begins to shuffle and intrigue, he is lost. The best security for his good conduct is that it is not only his best policy, but it is almost his only possible policy. His influence and his power depend upon his great abilities, and upon his judicious and honourable employment of them; he has no party at his back, he has few political and still fewer personal adherents, nor does he seem to make any exertions to acquire either the one or the other.
A BAD WEEK FOR GOVERNMENT.
June 28th.—The last week was a bad one for the Government. One incident was ridiculous, one unfortunate. Strutt came down to the House on Monday, made a speech of two hours on his Railroad Bill, developing the whole plan, and ended by withdrawing it: a mountain and a mouse. Great was the surprise, and great the ridicule. Thedessous des carteswas that Strutt had got up his speech with much labour, and was only told just before the House met that Government had resolved to withdraw the Bill. All this comes of having an inefficient man and a bad measure; thence vacillation, uncertainty, failure, and mortification. This was bad. Then they suffered a defeat on the Poor Law. The clause for prohibiting the separation of old people was carried against them; it was a mistaken piece of humanity, for the old people would be better off as the Bill was. All this shows that it is high time the session should be brought to a close.
July 13th.—The session is drawing to a close, but far from satisfactorily for the Government, who have lost ground in public estimation. Bill after bill has been thrown over, and, after a great deal of time entirely wasted, the session will end with hardly anything having been done. The last two measures given up were the Health of Towns and the Irish Estates Bills, and then the affair of the Wellington Statue came to crown all, in which the Government were bullied and tricked by Croker and Trench, who contrived to enlist the passions or prejudices of the Duke in their cause, made him their cat's-paw, and so accomplished their ends. The vexatious opposition to the Health of Towns Bill by George Bentinck, Hudson, and Co., made it very difficult to carry it, but the truth is they were wrong to bring in such measures so late in the session, and the measures were not framed in a manner to get through with short discussions. It is easy to say 'What could they do?' and 'They could not help it,' but the public does not analyse but looks to results, and therefore sees in the whole conduct of affairs proofs of weakness, vacillation, and mismanagement. This discredits the Government; they had before no popularity, andwere accepted as a necessity under circumstances rather than as desirable. Ellesmere, who is very friendly to them, tells me they have no credit or fame so far as his observation goes in the country, and people say 'this can't go on,' though without any fixed idea what is to be done. All this is very deplorable. Then Lord John does not make up by his personal qualities for his political mistakes or shortcomings; he is not conciliatory, and sometimes gives grievous offence. The other night in the House of Commons he was so savage with Hume, without any cause, that he enlisted all sympathies in Hume's favour, and was generally blamed for his tone and manner. He is miserably wanting in amenity, and in the small arts of acquiring popularity, which are of such incalculable value to the leader of a party, still more of a Government; then, while he has the reputation of being obstinate, he is wanting in firmness. His conduct about his own election has been very unwise, and has given great offence; he has suffered himself to be persuaded to stand for the City of London in conjunction with three other Liberals, including Rothschild, and to make a great contest, instead of coming quietly in by a compromise, which all moderate men desired, and none more than Lord John himself. He was so opposed to a contest, and especially to Rothschild's standing (which is a great piece of impertinence, when he knows he can't take his seat), that he threatened to resign himself if they persisted in their scheme of bringing in all four, and then he was over-persuaded to consent to the contest. They offered to pay his expenses; this he refused, and the Duke will have to pay them. In short, on the whole, the Government is not in good odour: they don't inspire confidence; they are neither popular nor respected, but they are indispensable, and have the strength of circumstances. If the country was polled, nineteen out of twenty would vote for Peel's being minister; the Queen would be enchanted to have him back; but Peel has no party, and can have none unless circumstances and necessities make one for him. The great Tory party is acephalous, or rather they are weak from the utter incompetence of their leaders, so that matters arein that sort of lock which prevents any other combination and any change, but which renders the present Government very powerless.
THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S VAGARIES.
The Cambridge installation went off with prodigiouséclat, and the Queen was enchanted at the enthusiastic reception she met with; but the Duke of Wellington was if possible received with even more enthusiasm. It is incredible what popularity environs him in his latter days; he is followed like a show wherever he goes, and the feeling of the peoplefor himseems to be the liveliest of all popular sentiments; yet he does nothing to excite it, and hardly appears to notice it. He is in wonderful vigour of body, but strangely altered in mind, which is in a fitful uncertain state, and there is no knowing in what mood he may be found; everybody is afraid of him, nobody dares to say anything to him; he is sometimes very amiable and good-humoured, sometimes very irritable and morose. About this affair of the Statue, Croker and Trench contrived to work him up to a state of frenzy; he was as near as possible resigning upon it. When Lord John wrote to him the other day in consequence of what passed in the House of Commons, he wrote a long rigmarole of an answer, which Lord John did not read yesterday, but gave the substance of it. All this is very unlike him. Then he is astonishing the world by a strange intimacy he has struck up with Miss ——, with whom he passes his life, and all sorts of reports have been rife of his intention to marry her. Such are the lamentable appearances of decay in his vigorous mind, which are the more to be regretted because he is in most enviable circumstances, without any political responsibility, yet associated with public affairs, and surrounded with every sort of respect and consideration on every side—at Court, in Parliament, in society, and in the country.
July 22nd.—All last week at Croxteth for Liverpool races, on Saturday to Worsley, passing four hours at Liverpool to see sights; went to the docks, town hall, &c.; and met Cardwell canvassing. I was told there that Peel is very unpopular in Liverpool on account of the heavy losses that have beensustained this year by mercantile men, all of which they attribute to his Currency Bill, consequently the Peelite Conservatives are very few; but my informant added that nevertheless everybody, even those who were most angry with him on account of this Bill, would be glad to see him in office again. I expressed surprise at this; he said they all thought him the best workman, and found when they approached him on business that he knew everything about the subjects which interested them. Liverpool is increasing enormously in trade, which is now greater than in London. Last week appeared Peel's letter to the electors of Tamworth, and John Russell's speech in the City. The latter was very good, and the former not bad in its way; but Peel's case for himself, however well put, is no answer to the accusations which have been elaborated in the 'Quarterly Review' with all the malignity and virulence of ungovernable hatred. There is some truth in the article, which is, however, revolting from its coarse and savage spirit. Arbuthnot told me yesterday an anecdote about that article. It was a review of a pamphlet called 'Pitt and Peel Policy.' Croker contrived to get hold of a copy of the proof-sheets of it, and sent it to the Duke of Wellington, pointing out a passage rather offensive to him, and informing the Duke he meant to review it. The Duke in sending it back advised Croker if he did review it to do so in terms of decency and moderation, and asked to see the review before it was printed. The passage about the Duke was struck out in the process of correction, and Croker had to alter his review in consequence; but he disregarded the Duke's advice, and published the article without letting the Duke see it. He gave as his reason for this that he wished the Duke to be able to say that he had never read a word of it. It seems that after some of his former attacks he tried to put himself on his former footing of intimacy with Peel, and wrote to him 'My dear Peel.' Peel would not hear of it, wrote to him a dry, formal answer, and told him in so many words that their intimacy was at an end. Croker was furious, and has been overflowing with gall and bitterness ever since.22
PANIC IN THE MONEY MARKET.
Panic in the Money Market—The Bank Act—Sir Robert Peel's Authority—Suspension of the Banking Act of 1844—Death of the Archbishop of York—Meeting of Parliament—Irish Coercion Bill—Opinion of the Lord-Lieutenant—Weakness of the Irish Measures—Sir Robert Peel on the Bank Charter Act—The Duke of Wellington on the Defences of the Country—English Catholic Affairs at Rome—Illness of Lord Chancellor Cottenham—Bishop Hampden's Appointment—Chloroform—Lamartine's 'Girondins'—The Hampden Dispute—Death of Lord Harrowby—Taxation—Leadership of the Opposition—The Hampden War—Scenes in Spain—Visit to Lord Melbourne—Lord Melbourne at Windsor—Burnham Beeches—Letter to Cobden—Leadership of the Opposition—Views of Sir James Graham on the Colonies—Archbishop Sumner—Baron Alderson—Diplomatic Relations with Rome—Weakness of the Government—Bad Effects of Lord John's Speech.
London, October 23rd, 1847.—After many weeks, or months, during which from idleness or unexplainable repugnance I have never written a line, I at last resume my pen, less for the purpose of writing the history of these past weeks than to begin again to record what occurs to me. Stirring weeks they have been, and full of interest of the most lively and general description. In the midst of all the agitation that has prevailed at home and abroad, intrigues and quarrels and wars begun or threatened in various countries, we have been absorbed by the great panic in the money market, which is still at its height, and of which no man ventures to predict, or thinks he can see, the termination. There never was a subject on which such diversified opinions prevail. Men are indeed pretty well agreed as to the cause of the present distress, and in admitting that it is the result of over-speculation, and of the Railway mania which fell upon the country two years ago. But the great contest is as to the share Peel's Bill of 1844 has had in aggravating and keeping up the state of distress and difficulty in which tradeand commerce are involved, and whether this Bill ought to be presently relaxed by the authority of Government or not. On these points the greatest disputes and varieties of opinion exist. Charles Wood has, however, been stout and resolute from the first, and quite determined not to consent to any interference. There have been some different opinions, and some shades of difference, some doubts, amongst the members of the Cabinet, though I do not know the particulars of them; but yesterday the Cabinet broke up, having terminated their deliberations, and resolvedas matters now standnot to do anything. My own belief is that this will prove a sound resolution, and that they would only have aggravated the evil by interference. I shall not, however, write anything more now on this subject. I have nothing secret or curious or interesting to record, and the details of it will be found in a hundred publications.
The most remarkable circumstance is the intense interest and curiosity which are felt about Peel's opinions and intentions. Everybody asks with anxiety what he says, what he thinks, what he will do. His vanity may well be gratified by the immense importance which is attached to his opinions and to the course he may take and recommend; his power seems to be as great out of office as it ever was in office; nothing was ever so strange or anomalous as his position. Half the commercial world attributes the distress and danger to his Bill; he is liked by nobody. The Conservatives detest him with unquenched hatred, and abuse him with unmitigated virulence. The Whigs regard him with a mixture of fear, suspicion, and dislike, but treat him with great deference and respect. There is a party which is called by others and by itself, but not (publicly at least) acknowledged by him as his party; it is far from numerous, and too weak for substantive power. He has never opened his lips on the great questions of the day, and is an oracle shrouded in mystery. It would seem as if a man thus abandoned by the majority of his former political friends and adherents, without personal attachments and following, an object of hatred to one party and of suspicion to the other, the country at largeor a great proportion of it attributing to his financial measures the distress by which all are afflicted or endangered, could by no possibility occupy any great and important position in the country: nevertheless he does. All eyes are turned upon him as if by a sort of fascination. If the country could be polled to decide who should be Minister, he would be elected by an immense majority. There is a prevalent opinion that hemustreturn to power; nobody knows when or how, but the notion is that the present men are weak, that the public necessities and perils are great, and if a crisis of difficulty and danger should arrive, that Peel is the only man capable of extricating the country from it. The consequence of all this is that hisprestigeand his influence are enormous.
THE BANK CHARTER ACT SUSPENDED.
Newmarket, November 1st.—I came here last Saturday week. On Friday I believed it to have beensettledthat nothing should be done by the Government to relieve the panic. On that day, however, George Glyn and other bankers had had an interview with John Russell, and they came from it with a persuasion that he would do something.23The same evening Peel came to town on his way to Windsor. Charles Wood went to him, laid before him the state of affairs, telling him all the accounts they had received from the country, all the pressure they were undergoing, and explained their views and intentions. On the next day, Saturday, still more urgent demands were made, and still more alarming representations arrived. On Sunday, a Cabinet (or half Cabinet) was held, and there it was resolved to grant the relief that has been seen. The Duke of Bedford was bidden to Windsor to meet Peel, who went there on Saturday. At dinner on Sunday the Queen received Lord John's box with the result of the deliberations of the Cabinet, which he requested Her Majesty to communicate to Peel. The next day the Duke of Bedford had a longconversation with Peel, very amicable and very satisfactory. He spoke in high terms of Lord John Russell and commended the Government, expressed his acquiescence under the peculiar circumstances of the case in the resolution they had come to, and declared his intention to support them. He appears to have talked very openly, and in a very friendly and even generous spirit. The Duke happened to have with him a letter which Lord John had written to him at the time of Peel's bill passing through Parliament, in which he had expressed his approval of the general principle, but found fault with some of the details. This letter the Duke showed to Peel, who was exceedingly pleased, and told him his brother was quite right, and that his bill had been faulty in the details which he had remarked upon.
London, November 8th.—The Archbishop of York is dead.24He was in no way remarkable except for the wonderful felicity of his whole life from first to last. It would perhaps be difficult to find a greater example of uninterrupted prosperity. He was not a man of great capacity nor of profound learning, but he had peculiarly themens sana in corpore sano. He was nobly born and highly allied. He enjoyed robust health, had a vigorous frame with a sound understanding, and he was cheerfully obliging, good-tempered, and sociable; his profession, his tastes, pursuits, and the quality of his mind cast him into the best and choicest society, where he played his part not brilliantly but with an amiable and graceful prosperity. He had many friends and no enemies, was universally esteemed and respected, and beloved by his own family. He was the most prosperous of men, full of professional dignities and emoluments, and the inheritor of a large private fortune; he was the father of a numerous family, whom he saw flourishing around him in opulence and worldly success; he lived in the exercise of a magnificent hospitality, and surrounded with social enjoyments. No misfortunes or sorrows disturbed the placid current of his life, and his mental and bodily faculties continuedunimpaired to the last; his illness, which lasted only a few hours, was without pain, and no more than the natural exhaustion of ninety-one accomplished years. Such a life and such a death so irreproachable and fortunate may well excite envy and admiration. He and Mr. Grenville so conjoined in life died at the same age, each having reached his ninety-first year, and within eleven months of each other—men in their different ways equally prosperous, virtuous, and happy.