CHAPTER VI.

The Whigs retain the Government--Motives of the Queen--Decision of Ministers--Lord Brougham's Excitement--Ministerial Explanations--State of Affairs in Parliament--Lord Brougham's great Speech on the Crisis--Duke of Wellington's Wisdom and Moderation--Visit of the Grand Duke Alexander--Macaulay returns to Parliament--Disappointment of the Radicals--The Radicals appeased--Visit to Holland House--Anecdotes of George Selwyn-- False Position of the Whigs--Downton Castle--Payne Knight-- Malvern--Troy House--Castles on the Wye--Tintern Abbey--Bath-- Salisbury Cathedral--Death of Lady Flora Hastings--Violent Speech of the Duke--Conversation with the Duke of Wellington-- Lord Clarendon's _début_ in the House of Lords--Lord Brougham attacks Lord Normanby--His fantastic Conduct--Pauper School at Norwood.

May 12th, 1839 {p.207}

The Cabinet met yesterday, and resolved to take the Government again; they hope to interest the people in the Queen's quarrel, and having made it up with the Radicals they think they can stand. It is a high trial to our institutions when the wishes of a Princess of nineteen can overturn a great Ministerial combination, and when the most momentous matters of Government and legislation are influenced by her pleasure about her Ladies of the Bedchamber. The Whigs resigned because they had no longer that Parliamentary support for their measures which they deemed necessary, and they consent to hold the Government without the removal of any of the difficulties which compelled them to resign, for the purpose of enabling the Queen to exercise her pleasure without any control or interference in the choice of the Ladies of her household. This is making the private gratification of the Queen paramount to the highest public considerations: somewhat strange Whig doctrine and practice! With respect to the question of unfettered choice, a good deal may be said on both sides; but although it would be wrong and inexpedient for any Minister to exercise the right, unless in a case of great necessity, I think every Minister must have the power of advising the Queen to remove a Lady of her Court, in the same way as he is admitted to have that of removing a man. Notwithstanding the transaction of 1812, and Lord Moira's protection of George IV. in the retention of his household, it is now perfectly established in practice that the Royal Household is at the discretion of the Minister, and it must be so because he is responsible for the appointments; in like manner he is responsible for every appointment which the Sovereign may make; and should any of the Ladies conduct herself in such a manner as to lead the public to expect or require her dismissal, and the Queen were to refuse to dismiss her, the Minister must be responsible for her remaining about the Royal person.

The pretension of the Queen was not merely personal, _pro hâc vice_, and one of arrangement, but it went to the establishment of a principle unlimited in its application, for she declared that she had felt bound to make her stand where she did, in order once for all to resist the encroachments which she anticipated, and which would lead, she supposed, at last to their insisting on taking the Baroness Lehzen herself from her. In a constitutional point of view, the case appears to me to be much stronger than in that of a Queen Consort, for the Minister has nothing to do with a Queen Consort; he is not responsible for her appointments, nor for the conduct of her officers, and she is a _feme sole_ possessed of independent rights which she may exercise according to her own pleasure, provided only that she does not transgress the law. It was a great stretch of authority when Lord Grey insisted on the dismissal of Lord Howe, Queen Adelaide's Chamberlain; but he did so upon an extraordinary occasion, and when circumstances rendered it, as he thought, absolutely necessary that he should make a public demonstration of his influence in a Court notoriously disaffected to the Reform Bill.

[Page Head: UNCONSTITUTIONAL COURSE OF THE WHIGS.]

The origin of the present mischief may be found in the objectionable composition of the Royal Household at the Accession. The Queen knew nobody, and was ready to take any Ladies that Melbourne recommended to her. He ought to have taken care that the female part of her household should not have a political complexion, instead of making it exclusively Whig as, unfortunately for her, he did; nor is it little matter of wonder that Melbourne should have consented to support her in such a case, and that he and his colleagues should have consented to act the strange, anomalous, unconstitutional part they have done. While they really believed that she had been ill-used, it was natural they should be disposed to vindicate and protect her; but after the reception of Peel's letter they must have doubted whether there had not been some misapprehension on both sides, and they ought in prudence, and in justice to her, even against her own feelings, to have sifted the matter to the bottom, and have cleared up every existing doubt before they decided on their course. But to have met as a Cabinet, and to have advised her what answer to send to the man who still held her commission for forming a Government, upon points relating to its formation, is utterly anomalous and unprecedented, and a course as dangerous as unconstitutional.[1] The danger has been sufficiently exemplified in the present case; for, having necessarily had no personal cognisance of the facts, they incurred the risk of giving advice upon mistaken grounds, as in this instance has been the case. _She_ might be excused for her ignorance of the exact limits of constitutional propriety, and for her too precipitate recurrence to the counsels to which she had been accustomed; but _they_ ought to have explained to her, that until Sir Robert Peel had formally and finally resigned his commission into her hands, they could tender no advice, and that her replies to him, and her resolutions with regard to his proposals, must emanate solely and spontaneously from herself. As it was, the Queen was in communication with Sir Robert Peel on one side, and Lord Melbourne on the other, at the same time; and through them with both their Cabinets; the unanimous resolutions of the former being by her conveyed to, and her answer being composed by, the latter. The Cabinet of Lord Melbourne discussed the proposals of that of Sir Robert Peel, and they dictated to the Queen the reply in which she refused to consent to the advice tendered to her by the man who was _at that moment_ her Minister, and it was this reply which compelled him to resign the office with which she had entrusted him.

[1] Melbourne explains away this objection by alleging that the negotiation with Peel was over at six on Thursday; that the Queen sent for him to tell him so; that he was again become her Minister; and that he and his colleagues properly advised the terms in which she should convey her final decision. This explanation seems to have gone down, but I can't imagine how: the decision to persist in refusing Peel's demands became _their_ decision, when they advised the letter in which it was conveyed. I know not why more was not made of this part of the case.

May 13th, 1839 {p.210}

[Page Head: THE DEBATE ON THIS TRANSACTION.]

Lord Tavistock went on Saturday to Buckingham Palace; found Melbourne was not there, and followed him to his house, where the Cabinet was sitting. He wrote him a letter, in which he said that he had seen the Duke, and that his impression was that there had been a misunderstanding between Peel and the Queen; and suggested to Melbourne that he should see the Duke, who was very willing, if he pleased, to talk the matter over with him. This letter was taken in to the Cabinet, and they discussed its contents.[2] Melbourne was not indisposed to see the Duke; but, after a careful consideration of Peel's letter, they came to the conclusion that there was no difference between the Queen's statement to them and Peel's to her, and, therefore, no misconception to correct. The Chancellor accordingly gave his opinion, that there was no ground for an interview between Melbourne and the Duke; so then ended the last hope of a readjustment.

[2] Lord Grey was at Melbourne's house; Melbourne sent for him, and consulted him, and he remained in another room while the Cabinet was in deliberation. Lord Grey took it up very warmly, and was strongly for supporting the Queen, saying they could not do otherwise.

The question (they say) was all along one of _principle_, and never of the _application_ of the principle; but the extraordinary part of it is that they admit that the principle is not maintainable, yet declare that they were bound _as gentlemen_, when the Queen had recourse to them, to support her. This is strange doctrine in Whig mouths. They have, in my opinion, abandoned their duty to the country and to the Queen, and they ought to have been impressed with the paramount obligation of instructing her in the nature and scope of her constitutional obligations and duties, and the limits of her constitutional rights, and to have advised her what she ought to do, instead of upholding her in doing that which was agreeable to her taste and inclination.

In the meantime Brougham wrote a violent letter to Lord Tavistock, imploring him, while it was still time, to arrest the perilous course on which his friends had entered, and full of professions of regard for him and his. Tavistock went to him in the evening, found him in a state of furious excitement, abusing the Ministry greatly, and many of them by name in the grossest terms, and pouring forth a torrent of invective against men and things. After a time he became more cool, and half promised that he would not speak at all; but when he learnt, what he was not aware of, that Lord Spencer was come to town and would be in the House of Lords, he broke out again, and said that if they had brought him up to support that miserable rotten concern, he must speak. Lord Spencer was not, however, brought up by them; he knew nothing of passing events till he read them in the 'Times' on Saturday, at Barnet, and his reflexion on them was, that if he should be sent for, he should advise the Queen to send for Peel again and concede the point. He is now, however, disposed, in case of need, to defend his friends in the House of Lords; but if they can secure Brougham's silence as the price of his, the Ministers will be glad enough to _pair_ them off.

May 19th, 1839 {p.211}

At Mickleham (for Epsom) from Tuesday to Friday, and, of course, nothing done, written, heard, or thought of, save and except the Derby. The explanations went off, on the whole, very well, without acrimony, and as satisfactorily as the case allowed. Peel's speech was excellent (though Lord Grey did not approve of it, and regretted not having the power to answer it), and without any appearance of art or dexterity he contrived to steer through all the difficult points and to justify himself without saying a word offensive to the Queen. Lord John Russell was very nervous, feeble and ineffective. In the other House Melbourne made, as all allow, a capital speech; Clarendon, a good and fair judge, told me that he never heard Melbourne speak so well throughout; while the Duke was painful to hear, exhibiting such undoubted marks of caducity: it did not, however, read ill. Melbourne made one admission, for which Lord John Russell was very angry with him, and that was of the 'erroneous impression' on the Queen's mind, because his argument was that there was 'no mistake.' Lord Grey and Lord Spencer would either of them have spoken, but it was deemed better they should not, or Brougham would have been unmuzzled, and as it was he adhered to his engagement to Lord Tavistock and held his peace. He had said, 'If you let off Althorp or old Grey, I must speak.'

June 1st, 1839 {p.212}

Laid up with the gout and confined to my room for ten days, very ill and utterly disinclined to write. Nothing new of consequence, but little things keep oozing out, throwing light on the recent transaction, and all tending to the same conclusion. In the meantime Parliament met, but nothing has been done. Lord John Russell began by deferring the Education question, which he will be obliged to abandon, for the Church has risen up and put forth all its strength against it, and having been joined by the Wesleyans, will, without difficulty, defeat it. The Bishop of London made a most eloquent philippic against it at Exeter Hall the other day. Government have brought in another Jamaica Bill, not very different from Peel's proposed measure, and which they will probably contrive to pass.

The Radicals have been again bestirring themselves, and trying to turn the present occasion to account and extract some concessions from the Government. Warburton has been in communication with Lord John Russell, and they expect some declarations from him and Melbourne of their future intentions, and some indications of a disposition to give way on some of the favourite Radical measures. Melbourne's intention was to be elicited by certain questions of which Lord Winchilsea gave notice, and which he actually put last night, as to the principles on which the Government was to be conducted. Melbourne replied in a very guarded and somewhat didactic style, but, so far from evincing any disposition to make Radical concessions, he intimated with sufficient clearness that he was resolved to make none whatever, and that he would not sacrifice his conscientious convictions for any political or party purpose.

[Page Head: LORD BROUGHAM ATTACKS MINISTERS.]

After this, up got Brougham, and that boiling torrent of rage, disdain, and hatred, which had been dammed up upon a former occasion when he was so unaccountably muzzled, broke forth with resistless and overwhelming force. He spoke for three hours, and delivered such an oration as no other man in existence is capable of: devilish in spirit and design, but of superhuman eloquence and masterly in execution. He assailed the Ministers with a storm of invective and ridicule; and, while he enveloped his periods in a studied phraseology of pretended loyalty and devotion, he attacked the Queen herself with unsparing severity. He went at length and in minute detail into the whole history of the recent transaction, drew it in its true colours, and exposed its origin, progress, and motives, and thus he laid bare all the arts and falsehoods by which attempts had been made to delude and agitate the country. If it were possible to treat this as a party question, his speech would be a powerful party auxiliary, most valuable to the Tories as a vindication of them, for it was the peculiar merit of this speech that it abounded in truths and in great constitutional principles of undoubted authority and unerring application. The Duke of Wellington rose after Brougham: in a short speech, replete with moderation and dignity, he abstained from entering upon the past, but fastened upon Melbourne's declaration, and gave him to understand that as long as he adhered to such principles as he had then declared he would be governed by, he might appeal to Parliament confidently for support.

These three speeches have all in their different ways produced a great effect: Melbourne's will not satisfy the Radicals, though they catch (as dying men at straws) at a vague expression about 'progressive reforms,' and try (or pretend) to think that this promises something, though they know not what. Brougham's speech was received by the Tory Lords with enthusiastic applause, vociferous cheering throughout, and two or three rounds at the conclusion. But the Duke's assurance of support to Melbourne exasperated his own people to the greatest degree, produced a sulky article in the 'Times,' and the usual complaints at White's and the Carlton of the Duke's being in his dotage, and so forth. Even some of his real admirers thought he 'had overdone it,' and whilst at Brooks's they did not quite know what to make of it, at the Carlton they were in the same doubt how to interpret Melbourne's cautious ambiguities. Both, however, were clear enough: Melbourne meant to say he would 'go no further,' and the Duke meant to pat him on the back, and promise him that while he adhered to that resolution he should have no vexatious opposition to fear; but his meaning was made still more clear, for he told my brother this afternoon that 'it was of the greatest importance to nail Melbourne to his declaration, and that they must do what they could to help the Queen out of the difficulty in which she was placed.' He looks to the Crown of England; he wants to uphold _it_ and not to punish _her_; and he does not care to achieve a Tory triumph at the expense of the highest Tory principle; he thinks the Monarchy is in danger, and he sees that the danger may be more surely averted by still enduring the existence of the present Government, depriving them of all power to do evil, and converting them into instruments of good, than by accelerating their fall under circumstances calculated to engender violent animosities, irreconcileable enmities, wide separation of parties, and the adoption of extreme measures and dangerous principles by many who have no natural bias that way. I entirely concur with him, and if it were possible to restore matters to something like the state they were in before the Bedchamber crisis, nothing would be so desirable; nothing so desirable as that the Whigs and the Radicals should be furnished with fresh occasion to fall out, and the dissolution of the Government be the final consequence of their dissensions. Also it is expedient that time should be given for the angry waters to become smooth and calm once more, albeit the smoothness is only on their surface.

Yesterday the Grand Duke Alexander[3] went away after a stay of some three weeks, which has been distinguished by a lavish profusion--perhaps a munificence--perfectly unexampled; he is by no means remarkable in appearance one way or the other, and does not appear to have made any great impression except by the splendour and extent of his presents and benefactions: he has scattered diamond boxes and rings in all directions, subscribed largely to all the charities, to the Wellington and Nelson memorials, and most liberally (and curiously) to the Jockey Club, to which he has sent a sum of £300, with a promise of its annual repetition.

[3] [Afterwards the Emperor Alexander II. of Russia. He ascended the throne in 1855 and perished by assassination in the streets of St. Petersburgh on the 13th March, 1881.]

[Page Head: MACAULAY ELECTED FOR EDINBURGH.]

Macaulay is gone to Edinburgh to be elected in the room of Abercromby, so he is again about to descend into the arena of politics. He made a very eloquent and, to my surprise, a very Radical speech, declaring himself for Ballot and short Parliaments. I was the more astonished at this, because I knew he had held very moderate language, and I remembered his telling me that he considered the Radical party to be reduced to 'Grote and his wife,' after which I did not expect to see him declare himself the advocate of Grote's favourite measure and the darling object of the Radicals.

June 7th, 1839 {p.215}

Macaulay's was a very able speech and a good apology for the Whig Government, and as he has always been for Ballot, he is not inconsistent. On Sir H. Fleetwood's motion the other night (for giving votes for counties to ten-pound householders), John Russell spoke out, though in a reforming tone, and threw the Radicals into a paroxysm of chagrin and disappointment. The Tories had heard he was going to give way, and Peel, who is naturally suspicious and distrustful, believed it; but when he found he would not give way, nor held out any hopes for the future, Peel nailed him to that point and spoke with great force and effect. This debate was considered very damaging to Whigs and Radicals, and likely to lead to a dissolution--first, of Parliament, and then of Government. But the Radicals are now adopting a whining, fawning tone, have dropt that of bluster and menace, and, having before rudely insisted on a mighty slice of the loaf, are now content to put their tails between their legs and swallow such crumbs as they can get. Peel has written and published a very stout letter, in reply to a Shrewsbury declaration presented to him, in which he defends his recent conduct, and declares he will never take office on any other terms.

[Page Head: THE WHIGS SUCCUMB TO THE RADICALS.]

Notwithstanding Lord John Russell's speech on Fleetwood's motion, and Melbourne's anti-movement declaration in the other House, they have to their eternal disgrace succumbed to the Radicals, and been squeezed into making Ballot an open question. For John Russell I am sorry. I thought he would have been stouter. The Radicals are full of exultation, and the Government underlings, who care not on what terms they can retain their places, are very joyful. I rode with Howick yesterday for a long time and talked it over with him. He pretended it was no concession after Vivian's being allowed to vote last year, and he owned that he considered the question as virtually carried; he is himself moderate and means still to vote against it, sees all the danger--not so much from Ballot itself as from its inevitable train of consequences--and still consents to abandon the contest. I asked him, if he was not conscious that it was only like buying off the Picts and Scots, and that fresh demands would speedily follow with redoubled confidence; and he owned he was. It may prolong for a brief period the sickly existence of the Government, and if a dissolution comes speedily, Whigs and Radicals may act in concert at the elections; but if they attempt to go on with the present Parliament fresh demands will rapidly ensue, and then there must be fresh concessions or another breach. It is a base and disgusting truckling to allies between whom and themselves there is nothing but mutual hatred and contempt.

June 14th, 1839 {p.217}

At Holland House from Tuesday till Thursday--not particularly agreeable. Melbourne came one day, but was not in spirits. Lord Holland told me some stories of George Selwyn, whom he had known in his younger days, and many of whose good sayings he remembers. He describes him as a man of great gravity and deliberation in speaking, and, after exciting extraordinary mirth by his wit and drollery, gently smiling and saying, 'I am glad you are pleased.' The old Lord Foley (father of the last) was much discontented with his father's will, who, knowing that he was in debt and a spendthrift, had strictly tied up the property: he tried to set aside the will by Act of Parliament, and had a Bill brought into the House of Lords for the purpose. George Selwyn said, 'Our old friend Foley has worked a miracle, for he has converted the Jews from the Old to the New Testament.'

June 24th, 1839, Ludlow {p.217}

I left London on Friday last by railroad, went to Wolverhampton (the vilest-looking town I ever saw), and posted in my carriage from thence to this place, where I only arrived at a quarter-past nine. This journey takes (losing no time) about eleven and a half hours--one hundred and fifty miles--of which thirty-four by road. The road from Bridgenorth to Ludlow is very striking and commands exceedingly fine views.

The day before I left town I saw Lord Tavistock, who told me divers things. I asked him what could induce Lord John to consent to making Ballot an open question, and he replied, that nothing else could have prevented the dissolution of the Government, and that _three_ of the Ministers--he did not say which--threatened to resign instanter if this concession was not made. Here then, as I said to him, was another example of the evils of that catastrophe which broke up the embryo Government of Peel and brought them back again: unable to go on independently and as they desire to do, they are obliged to truckle, and are squeezed into compliances they abhor, and all this degradation they think themselves bound to submit to because the principle on which their Government stands, and which predominates over all others, is that of supporting the Queen. No Tory Government ever ventured to dissociate its support of the Queen from its measures and principles as a party, in the way these men do. Macaulay made his first re-appearance in the Ballot debate in a speech of unequal merit, but Peel and Graham complimented him on his return amongst them.

I am greatly delighted with this country, which is of surpassing beauty, and the old Castle of Ludlow, a noble ruin, and in 'ruinous perfection.' On Saturday I explored the Castle and walked to Oakley Park, Robert Clive's, who is also the owner of the Castle, which he bought of the Crown for £1,500. The gardens at Oakley Park are very pretty and admirably laid out and kept, and the park is full of fine oaks. Yesterday I walked and rode over the hills above Ludlow, commanding a panoramic prospect of the country round, and anything more grand and picturesque I never beheld. But above all, the hills and woods of Downton Castle, with the mountains of Radnorshire in the distance, present a scene of matchless beauty well worth coming from London to see.

June 26th, 1839, Delbury {p.218}

I rode to Downton Castle on Monday, a gimcrack castle and bad house, built by Payne Knight, an epicurean philosopher, who after building the castle went and lived in a lodge or cottage in the park: there he died, not without suspicion of having put an end to himself, which would have been fully conformable to his notions. He was a sensualist in all ways, but a great and self- educated scholar. His property is now in Chancery, because he chose to make his own will. The prospect from the windows is beautiful, and the walk through the wood, overhanging the river Teme, surpasses anything I have ever seen of the kind. It is as wild as the walk over the hill at Chatsworth, and much more beautiful, because the distant prospect resembles the cheerful hills of Sussex instead of the brown and sombre Derbyshire moors. The path now creeps along the margin, and now rises above the bed of a clear and murmuring stream, and immediately opposite is another hill as lofty and wild, both covered with the finest trees--oaks, ash, and chestnut--which push out their gnarled roots in a thousand fantastic shapes, and grow out of vast masses of rock in the most luxuriant and picturesque manner. Yesterday I came here, a tolerable place with no pretension, but very well kept, not without handsome trees, and surrounded by a very pretty country.

June 28th, 1839, Malvern {p.219}

[Page Head: LUDLOW, MALVERN, ROSS.]

Returned to Ludlow yesterday; came here to-day: the road from Ledbury to Malvern wonderfully fine, and nothing grander than the view of Eastnor Castle.

July 3rd, 1839, Troy House {p.219}

[Page Head: GOODRICH CASTLE, TINTERN ABBEY.]

Stayed at Malvern two days, clambering to the top of the hills which overhang the place (for town it is not), from which the views are very fine over a rich but generally flat country; the prospect is grand from its great extent. There is a curious and interesting church there, formerly of some priory, with a handsome gateway. I came through Eastnor Park in the way to Ledbury, exceedingly fine, and the castle something like Belvoir apparently, but I was not permitted to approach it. Nothing particular in the road till Ross, a very pretty town, where I first met the Wye, but, alas, in its muddiest state: this was the abode of 'The Man of Ross.' Very pretty road from Ross to Monmouth, through which latter place I walked, and passed by a very old house, which, as I afterwards heard, is said to have been the abode of Geoffrey of Monmouth, and they show his study. Troy, a plain, good-looking house, imperfectly kept up and poorly furnished, as a house is likely to be whose owners never inhabit it. It was built by the Duke of Beaufort in 1689, who came to sulk here on the expulsion of the last of the Stuarts, having a deeply-rooted sentiment of hereditary loyalty. _Multa fecerunt_ and _multa tulerunt_, certainly, for that unhappy race. Here they show a chair in which _a plot_ was contrived against Charles I.-- that is, 'in which the president of the conspirators is said to have sat.' The story was obscure, but I did not think it advisable to press the narrator for explanations. Likewise a cradle, which tradition assigns to Henry V. (Harry of Monmouth), which is evidently old enough and was splendid enough in a rude style to justify any such tradition; the only unfortunate thing is, that there is a rival cradle somewhere else with the same claim. Mr. Wyatt, the Duke's agent, received me with great civility and hospitality, having been enjoined by the Duke to make me his guest and himself my _cicerone_. Accordingly we set forth on Monday morning and went to Usk Castle, a ruin of which not much is left besides a picturesque round tower; neither the Castle nor the country is very remarkable, but we brought home a crimped salmon, for which Usk is famous (and where the crimping is said to be a secret unattainable even to the vendors of Wye and Severn salmon), which was, without exception, the most dainty fish I ever ate. From Usk we returned to Raglan Castle, a most noble and beautiful ruin; there has often been a notion of restoring it, and an estimate was made of the probable expense, which was calculated at £30,000; but the idea and the estimate are equally preposterous: it would be reconstructing a very unmanageable house and destroying the finest ruin in England, and the cost would infallibly be three times £30,000. As there had been a question of its restoration, I expected to find greater and more perfect remains, but, though some of the apartments may be made out, it is a vast wreck. The strange thing is that the second Marquis of Worcester, when his possessions were restored to him, and when the damage done to the castle might easily have been repaired, should not have done it nor any of his immediate descendants. Great pains are now taken to preserve the beauties of this majestic fabric and to arrest the further progress of decay. Yesterday I rode to Goodrich Castle, stopping to see some remarkable views of the Wye, particularly one called Simmons Yat or Rock, which is very beautiful (and must be much more so when the river is clear and transparent); and a curious rock called the Buck-stone, which was probably a Druidical place of worship, but of which nothing is positively known, though conjecture is busy. Goodrich Castle, which was partly battered down by the Cromwellians like Raglan, is more ancient, and was much stronger than the latter; but, though not so beautiful and splendid, it is an equally curious and interesting ruin, with many of its parts still more perfect than anything at Raglan. I was exceedingly delighted with Goodrich, and there was a female _custos_, zealous and intelligent, whose husband, she told us, was continually occupied in clearing away rubbish and exposing the remains of the old Castle. We then went to Goodrich Court, a strange kind of bastard castle built by Blore, and which the possessor, Sir Samuel Meyrick, has devoted to the exhibition of his collection of armour. There are only a few acres of ground belonging to him, on which he has built this house, but it is admirably situated, overhanging the Wye and facing the Castle, of which it commands a charming view. After being hurried through the armoury, which was all we were invited to inspect, we embarked in a boat we had sent up, and returned to Monmouth down the Wye through some beautiful scenery, but which it was too cold to enjoy.

July 4th, 1839, Clifton {p.221}

I came here last night, the wind having changed to S.W., and summer having come with it. I left Troy in the morning and went to Tintern Abbey: most glorious, which I could not describe if I would, but which produced on me an impression similar in kind and equal in amount to that which I felt at the sight of St. Peter's. No description nor any representation of it can do justice, or anything like justice, to this majestic and beautiful ruin, such is its wonderful perfection viewed in every direction, from every spot, and in the minutest detail. That the remains should be so extensive and so uninjured is marvellous, for there can be no doubt that this Abbey might be restored to its former grandeur. Much has been done by Mr. Wyatt, the Duke's agent, both to preserve the Abbey and to develope its beauties by cutting away the trees and ivy, and clearing away the accumulation of earth; by the latter means several tombs and many detached fragments of beautiful design and workmanship have been found, and I did my best to encourage him to pursue his researches.

Casting many lingering looks behind, I left Tintern and went to Windcliffe, from the summit of which there is a very fine view; but the Wye, instead of being an embellishment, is an eyesore in the midst of such scenery: it looks like a long, slimy snake dragging its foul length through the hills and woods which environ its muddy stream. We dined in a moss-cottage at the foot of Windcliffe, and then proceeded to Chepstow, a very curious and striking ruin, and which I should have seen with much greater interest and admiration if Tintern had not so occupied my thoughts and filled my mind that I had not eyes to do justice to Chepstow. I went all over the ruins, however, and examined them very accurately; for it is one of the great merits of these different castles, Raglan, Goodrich, and Chepstow, that they are wholly dissimilar, and each is therefore a fresh object of curiosity. I crossed the old passage, as it is called, in a ferry, and came on to Clifton.

[Page Head: BATH, SALISBURY CATHEDRAL.]

_Bath._--After taking a cursory view of Clifton from the Roman Camp and part of Bristol, I came to Bath, where I have not been these thirty years and more. I walked about the town, and was greatly struck with its handsomeness; thought of all the vicissitudes of custom and fashion which it has seen and undergone, and of the various characters, great and small, who have figured here. Here the great Lord Chatham used to repair devoured by gout, resentment, and disappointment, and leave the Government to its fate, while his colleagues waited his pleasure submissively or caballed against his power, according as circumstances obliged them to do the first or enabled them to do the second. Here my uncle, Harry Greville, the handsomest man of his day, used to dance minuets while all the company got on chairs and benches to look at him, and a few years since he died in poverty at the Mauritius, where he had gone to end his days, after many unfortunate speculations, in an office obtained from the compassion of Lord Bathurst. _Sic transit gloria mundi_, and thus its frivolities flourish for their brief hour, and then decay and are forgotten. An old woman showed me the Pump-room and the baths, all unchanged except in the habits and characters of their frequenters; and my mind's eye peopled them with Tabitha Bramble, Win Jenkins, and Lismahago, and with all the inimitable family of Anstey's creation, the Ringbones, Cormorants, and Bumfidgets--Tabby and Roger.[4]

[4] _Humphrey Clinker_ and Anstey's _Bath Guide_.

July 5th, 1839, Salisbury {p.223}

I saw the Abbey Church at Bath this morning, which is handsome enough, but not very remarkable, unless for the vast crowds of its tombstones in every part; it has been completely repaired by the corporation at a great expense. I went to Stonehenge, of which no description is necessary; thence to Wilton; very fine place; hurried through the gallery of marbles, but looked longer at the pictures, which I understand and taste better; saw the gardens and the stud, and then came here; went directly to the Cathedral, with which I was exceedingly delighted, having seen nothing like it for extent, lightness, and elegance. There is one modern tomb by Chantrey which is very fine, that of Lord Malmesbury, erected by his sister; but, however skilfully executed or admirably designed, I do not like such monuments so well, nor think them so appropriate to our cathedrals, as the rude effigies of knights and warriors in complete armour, with their feet on couchant hounds, or those stately though sometimes gaudy and fantastic monuments, in which, among crowds of emblematical devices and armorial bearings, the husband and the wife lie side by side in the richest costume of the day, while their children are kneeling around them; these, with the venerable figures of abbots and bishops, however rudely sculptured, give me greater pleasure to look upon than the choicest productions of Roubillac, Nollekens, or Chantrey, which, however fine they may be, seem to have no business there, and to intrude irreverently among the mighty dead of olden time. This cathedral is in perfect repair within and without; the colour of the stone is singularly beautiful, and it is not blocked up with buildings, Bishop Barrington having caused all that were adjacent to be removed. The chapter house and cloisters are exceedingly fine, but the effect is spoilt in the former by great bars of iron which radiate in all directions from a ring attached to the supporting pillar, and which have been put there (probably without any necessity) to relieve it of a portion of the superincumbent weight. It is remarkable that wherever I have gone in my travels, I have found the same complaints of the mischievous propensities of that silly, vulgar, vicious animal, called the public. Amongst the beauties of nature or of art, rocks, caves, or mountains, in ruined castles and abbeys, or ancient but still flourishing cathedrals, the same invariable love of pilfering and mutilating is to be found: some knock off a nose or a finger, others deface a frieze or a mullion from sheer love of havoc, others chip off some unmeaning fragment as a relique or object of curiosity; but the most general taste seems to be that of carving names or initials, and some of the ancient figures are completely tattooed with these barbarous engravings: this propensity I believe to be peculiar to our nation, and not to be found in any part of the Continent, where, indeed, it would probably not be permitted, and where detection and punishment would speedily overtake the offender. It is quite disgusting to see the venerable form of a knight templar or a mitred abbot scarred all over with the base patronymics of Jones and Tomkins, or with a whole alphabet of their initials.

July 7th, 1839 {p.224}

I came to town yesterday from Basingstoke by railroad; found that Lady Flora Hastings was dead, and a great majority in the House of Lords in favour of an Address to the Crown against the proposed Committee of Council on Education, the Bishop of London having made an extraordinarily fine speech.

July 14th, 1839 {p.224}

Nothing new; proceedings in Parliament very languid. The Queen has appointed Lady Sandwich very dexterously, for she gets one of the favoured Paget race and the wife of a Tory peer, thereby putting an end to the exclusively Whig composition of the Household. This is a concession with regard to _the principle_.

July 19th, 1839 {p.225}

[Page Head: DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S ANGRY VEIN.]

There have been angry debates in the Lords about the Birmingham riots, chiefly remarkable for the excitement, so unlike his usual manner, exhibited by the Duke of Wellington, who assailed the Government with a fierceness which betrayed him into much exaggeration and some injustice. Lord Tavistock, who, although a partisan, is a fair one, and who has a great esteem and respect for the Duke, told me that he had seen and heard him with great pain, and that his whole tone was alarmingly indicative of a decay of mental power. This is not the first time that such a suspicion has been excited: George Villiers told me, soon after he came over, how much struck he had been with the change he observed in him, and from whatever cause, he is become in speaking much more indistinct and embarrassed, continually repeating and not always intelligible, but his speeches, when reported, present much the same appearance, and the sense and soundness (when the reporters have lopped off the redundancies and trimmed them according to their fashion) seem to be unimpaired. It is, however, a serious and melancholy thing to contemplate the possibly approaching decay of that great mind, and I find he always contemplates it himself, his mother's mind having failed some years before her death. It will be sad if, after exploits as brilliant as Marlborough's, and a career far more important, useful, and honourable, he should be destined for an end like Marlborough's, and it is devoutly to be hoped that his eyes may be closed in death before 'streams of dotage' shall begin to flow from them. The Tories, with whom nothing goes down but violence, were delighted with his angry vein, and see proofs of vigour in what his opponents consider as evidence of decay; his bodily health is wonderfully good, which is perhaps rather alarming than reassuring as to the safety of his mind.

July 22nd, 1839 {p.225}

[Page Head: RADICAL MAGISTRATES.]

I met the Duke yesterday at dinner and had much talk with him. He is very desponding about the state of the country and the condition in which the Government have placed it. He complains of its defenceless situation from their carrying on a war (Canada) with a peace establishment; consequently that the few troops we have are harassed to death with duty, and in case of a serious outbreak that there is no disposable force to quell it; that the Government are ruled by factions, political and religious. On Saturday they had been beaten on a question relating to the Poor Laws[5] of great importance; and he said that they must be supported in this, and extricated from the difficulty. I was glad to meet him and see (for it is some time since I have talked to him) whether there was any perceptible change in his manner or any symptom indicative of decay. Without there being anything tangible or very remarkable, I received the impression that there was not exactly the same vigour of mind which I have been used to admire in him, and what he said did not appear to me indicative of the strong sense and acuteness which characterise him. If he has no attack, I dare say he will be able to continue to act his part with efficacy for a long time to come. I asked him in what manner Government would prosecute the inquiry they had promised into the conduct of the Birmingham magistrates? He said what they ought to do was to order the Attorney-General to prosecute them for a corrupt neglect of their duty, a thing they would as soon put their hands in the fire as do. Such is their position, so dependent upon bad men, that they are compelled to treat with the utmost tenderness all the enemies of the Constitution. There can be no doubt that the appointments to the magistracy have been fraught with danger, and made on a very monstrous principle. When Lord John Russell resolved and avowed his resolution to neutralise the provision of the Act which gave the appointment of magistrates to the Crown instead of to the Town Council (as they had proposed) by taking the recommendations of the Council, he incurred the deepest responsibility that any Minister ever did, for he took on himself to adopt a course practically inconsistent with the law, for the express purpose of placing political power in particular hands, to which the law intended it should not be confided; and on him, therefore, rested all the responsibility of such power being wisely and safely exercised by the hands to which he determined to entrust it; and when he appoints such a man as Muntz,[6] ex-Chartist and ex-Delegate, what must be the impression produced on all denominations of men as to his bias, and of what use is it to make professions, and deliver speeches condemnatory of the principles and conduct of Chartists and associators, if his acts and appointments are not in conformity with those professions? Mr. Muntz, he says, has abandoned Chartism, and is no longer the man he was: but who knows that? For one man who knows what Muntz is, a hundred know what he was, and in the insertion of his name in the list the bulk of the world will and can only see, if not approbation of, at least indifference to the doctrines such men have professed, and the conduct they have exhibited to the world. It is the frightful anomaly of being a Government divesting itself of all conservative character, which constitutes the danger of our day. As the 'Times,' in one of its spirited articles, says, this very morning, 'that it cares not to see the Monarchy broken in pieces so that they may hurl its fragments at the heads of their opponents.'

[5] An instruction to the Committee to introduce a clause allowing out-door relief in all cases of able-bodied paupers married previously to the passing of the Act.

[6] [Whatever the antecedents of Mr. Muntz may have been, he lived to justify Lord John Russell's choice. He was not only a good magistrate, but member for Birmingham for many years, and a useful member. He was the first man who, in our time, wore a long beard in the House.]

July 25th, 1839 {p.227}

Lord Clarendon made his first appearance in the House of Lords the night before last in reply to Lord Londonderry on Spanish affairs, with great success and excellent effect, and has completely landed himself as a Parliamentary speaker, in which, as he is certain to improve with time and practice, he will eventually acquire considerable eminence; and nothing can prevent his arriving at the highest posts. He is already marked out by the public voice for the Foreign Office, for which he is peculiarly well fitted, and there is no reason why he should not look forward to being Prime Minister in some future combination of parties, a post which he would fill better than any of the statesmen who now play the principal parts in the political drama. The Government have at last taken fright, and have proposed troops and police to afford the country some sort of security during the recess and the winter. They have sent down Maule (the Solicitor to the Treasury) to Birmingham to investigate the evidence adducible against the magistrates, but I do not much expect that they will proceed to any extremities against them. It is too probable that 'silebitur toto judicio de maximis et notissimis injuriis,' for 'non potest in accusando socios verè defendere is, qui cum reo criminum societate conjunctus est.'

August 9th, 1839 {p.228}

[Page Head: FREAKS OF LORD BROUGHAM.]

Brougham brought on his motion on Tuesday,[7] in spite of various attempts to dissuade him; but he could not resist the temptation of making a speech, which he said he expected would be the best he had ever delivered. He spoke for three hours in opening, and an hour and a quarter in reply, and a great performance by all accounts it was. The Duke of Wellington said it was the finest speech he had ever heard in Parliament. Normanby was miserably feeble in reply, and exhibited, by common consent, a sad failure, both on this occasion and on that of the Canada Bill. He is quite unequal to the office which has been thrust upon him, and he cannot speak upon great subjects, having no oratorical art or power of dealing skilfully and forcibly with a question. It was a very damaging night to the Government as far as reputation[8] is concerned, but in no other way, for they are perfectly callous, and the public entirely apathetic. Melbourne was very smart in reply to Brougham, but did not attempt to deal with the question. The case, after all, is not a very strong one, and, though Normanby was much to blame in releasing prisoners and commuting sentences in the manner and to the extent he did, the principle on which he acted was sound, and it has proved beneficial. Had he known how, and been equal to the task, he might have made a fine defence by taking a high instead of a deprecatory line, and by a confident appeal to results; but it required more of an orator and a statesman than he is to handle his case with sufficient effect, and to stand up against such a master of his art as Brougham, backed by a favourable audience. This curious and versatile creature is in the highest spirits, and finds in the admiration which his eloquence, and the delight which his mischievousness excite on the Tory benches and in Tory society, a compensation for old mortifications and disappointments. After acting Jupiter one day in the House of Lords, he is ready to act Scapin anywhere else the next; and the day after this great display he went to dine at Greenwich with the Duchess of Cambridge and a great party, where he danced with Lady Jersey, while Lyndhurst capered also with the Dowager Lady Cowper. After dinner they drank, among other toasts, Lady Jersey's health, and when she said she could not return thanks, Brougham undertook to do it for her, speaking in her person. He said, that 'She was very sorry to return thanks in such a dress, but unfortunately she had quarrelled in the morning with her maid, who was a very cross, crabbed person, and consequently had not been able to put on the attire she would have wished, and in the difficulty she had had recourse to her old friend Lord Brougham, who had kindly lent her his best wig and the coat which he wore upon state occasions.' After more nonsense of this kind, that 'she was very sorry she could not say more, but that in the peculiar situation she then was in, she could not venture to remain any longer on her legs.'

[7] [Lord Brougham moved on the 6th August five resolutions censuring the Irish policy of the Government: they were carried in the House of Lords by 86 votes to 52.]

[8] 'L'une des qualités indispensables d'un Gouvernement c'est d'avoir cette bonne renommée qui repousse l'injustice. Quand il l'a perdue et qu'on lui impute tous les crimes, les torts des autres et ceux même de la fortune, il n'a plus la faculté de gouverner, et cette impuissance doit le condamner ... à se retirer.' (Thiers, t. x. p. 276.) Applicable to our Government now.

August 10th, 1839 {p.229}

I went to Norwood yesterday to see Dr. Kay's[9] Poor Law School, supposed to be very well managed, and very successful. As I looked at the class to whom a lesson was then being read, all the urchins from eight to eleven or twelve years old, I thought I had never seen a congregation of more unpromising and ungainly heads, and accordingly they are the worst and lowest specimens of humanity; starved, ill-used children of poor and vicious parents, generally arriving at the school weak and squalid, with a tendency to every vice, and without having received any moral or intellectual cultivation whatever; but the system, under able and zealous teachers, acts with rapid and beneficial effect on these rude materials, and soon elicits manifestations of intelligence, and improves and developes the moral faculties. When one sees what is done by such small means, it is impossible not to reflect with shame and sorrow upon the little, or rather the nothingness, that is accomplished when the material is of the best description, and the means are unlimited,--upon the total absence of any system throughout places of education, either public or private, and consequently at the imperfect and defective education which is given to the highest and richest class of society, who are brought up thus stupidly at an enormous expense, acquiring little knowledge, and what they do acquire, so loosely and incompletely as to be of the smallest possible use. When one sees what is done here, it makes one think what ought to be done elsewhere, and then contrast the possible with the actual state of the case.

[9] [Afterwards Sir James Kay Shuttleworth, Bart. Dr. Kay was a zealous promoter of national education, and had recently been appointed to the Education Department of the Privy Council Office, then in its infancy.]