CHAPTER XXXIV.
The Trial of Strength--Defeat of the Government--Shuffling of Ministers--The No-Popery Cry--Dissolution of Parliament--Character of the Derby Government--The Ministers--The Opposition--A Difficult Situation--Public Indifference--Results of the Elections--Macaulay's Election--Policy of the Opposition--Scheme of a Coalition under Lord Lansdowne--Lord Derby at Goodwood--The Herefordshire Election--Sir James Graham's View of the Situation--Death of Count D'Orsay--Difficulties of Reconciliation--Lord John Russell's Position--A Divided Opposition--Lord Granby's Dissatisfaction--Lord John Russell on Reform--Lord Cowley's Proxy--A Plan to catch Lord Palmerston--Death of the Duke of Wellington.
_London, May 12th, 1852._--On Monday night came on the trial of strength, which the Opposition had determined to have with the Government, and which the latter very unaccountably provoked.[151] The leaders made great exertions to bring the several sections of parties together, and completely succeeded. The only doubt was about the 'Brigadiers,' as the Irish squadron are called, who it was feared might refuse to go into the same lobby with John Russell on any terms, but it ended in their adhesion. The Duke of Newcastle told me they hoped for a majority of fifty, therefore eighty-six was far beyond their most sanguine expectations. No immediate consequences will follow, but it was a severe check to the Government, and the more important from the circumstance of Gladstone's being the leader of the Opposition, and Palmerston voting with the majority. Derby affected indifference, and said to John Russell at the Queen's ball the same night, 'What will you get by all this?' It will probably accelerate the dissolution, for which they must now themselves be anxious, to put an end to the present state of affairs, and relieve them even for a time from the position into which their embarrassment and all their shuffling and double dealing have placed them.
[Footnote 151: [The Chancellor of the Exchequer proposed on May 10 to transfer the four vacant seats for Sudbury and St. Albans to the West Riding of Yorkshire and the Southern Division of Lancashire. Mr. Gladstone moved the previous question, which was carried by 234 to 148.]]
[Sidenote: INCONSISTENCY OF THE GOVERNMENT.]
The conduct of the Government is regarded with indignation and contempt by all thinking people, out of the pale of their own thick and thin supporters; but it does not seem to make much impression upon the country at large, nobody appears to care one straw about anybody or anything. There is very general prosperity and contentment, and people are indifferent about politics, and who is in or out of office. There is no public man who enjoys any popularity, or has a hold upon the regard or the good opinions of the masses. If Derby remains in power it will be from the enormous difficulty of forming any other government, for, strangely enough, while a short time ago everybody said a Derby Government was impossible, it now appears to be the only government which is possible. All, however, is confusion and uncertainty, and so will remain till the next Parliament meets, and the state and relative strength of parties is manifested.
The object of the Ministerialists is to catch votes by representing themselves as Conservatives, and creating as much doubt and uncertainty as they can about their intentions on the most exciting topics, such as Free Trade and Popery. It is supposed that there is under a smooth exterior considerable discord in the Protectionist ranks, and even in the Cabinet. Disraeli's Free Trade speech on the Budget evidently gave deep offence to his party, for he felt himself obliged to make a sort of recantation a night or two afterwards; and Derby took the very unusual course of making a political speech at the Mansion House dinner, and in it, with much show of compliment to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, did his best to neutralise the Budget speech of the latter by a long and laboured exposition of the doctrine of compromise, which he said entered practically into all the policy and even institutions of the country--all which seemed to imply that he meant to strike a balance, in some protective shape, between the manufacturing and agricultural interests. This speech, which was not particularly good, has been universally considered as a snub to Disraeli.
Last night Spooner brought on his motion for an enquiry into Maynooth, when Walpole made a strong anti-Maynooth speech, going much farther in that direction than Derby had ever hinted at in the House of Lords; but such is their language at different times and in different places, that it is utterly impossible to guess what they think, mean, or intend; a studied ambiguity conceals their principles and their policy, if they have either. It would, however, look as if they meant to pander to the 'No-Popery' rage which is now so rife, and to make the country believe they intend to give effect to the passionate desire, which no doubt largely prevails, to attack the Catholics in some way.[152] This desire is very strong and general in this country, but in Scotland it is universal. Aberdeen told me the whole country was on fire, and they would like nothing so much as to go to Ireland and fight, and renew the Cromwellian times, giving the Papists the option of going to 'Hell or Connaught.' As Ireland is equally furious, and the priests will send sixty or seventy members full of bigotry and zeal, all ready to act together under the orders of Cullen and Wiseman, we may look for more polemical discussion, and that of the most furious character, than we have ever seen before, even during the great Emancipation debates.
[Footnote 152: [The strong anti-Catholic feeling which had been excited by the measure of the Pope for the establishment of a Roman Catholic hierarchy in England in 1850, was kept alive by the Tories and directed against the more recent provision made by Sir Robert Peel for the College of Maynooth.]]
[Sidenote: A GENERAL ELECTION.]
_Bath, July 7th._--The elections are now begun,[153] and a few days will disclose whether Derby's Government will be able to stand its ground or not. Both parties are excessively confident, for at this moment the world may be divided between the supporters and opponents of the present Government, though the latter will be split into a dozen different factions when Parliament meets. The first act of the Derby drama has been curious enough; they have in some respects done better and in some worse than was expected of them. Derby himself has shuffled and prevaricated and involved himself in a studied and laboured ambiguity, which has exposed him to bitter taunts and reproaches, and Disraeli has been a perfect will-o'-the-wisp, flitting about from one opinion to another, till his real opinions and intentions are become matter of mere guess and speculation. He has given undoubted proofs of his great ability, and showed how neatly he could handle such a subject as finance, with which he never can have been at all familiar; but having been well taught by his subalterns, and applying a mind naturally clear, ready, and acute to the subject, he contrived to make himself fully master of it, and to produce to the House of Commons a financial statement the excellence of which was universally admitted and gained him great applause. Whatever his motives were--whether because it was all true, and he could not resist the force of truth, or that he thought _that_ the best opportunity he could find for evacuating an untenable position, he pronounced such a full and unreserved panegyric on the results of Free Trade, and so clearly stated them in detail, that his speech was hailed as a practical conversion, and as such cheered vehemently by the Whigs, and received in gloomy silence by his own people. On subsequent occasions he attempted to shuffle out of his previous declarations, and as they cannot afford to quarrel with him, and a great many are like him and obliged to back out of Protection also, no schism has taken place. On all subjects of interest the Government have taken a doubtful, undecided course, and abstained from any bold enunciation of principles and course of action, always temporising, and trying to keep up the hopes of every party and interest by their ambiguous language. On Maynooth, on the Education Question, and the Privy Council Minute, they did this, evidently for electioneering purposes: afraid in one case of affronting Protestant bigotry, and in the other wanting to stimulate the zeal of the Churchmen in their favour.
[Footnote 153: [Parliament was prorogued on July 1, and dissolved immediately afterwards.]]
The appointment that created the greatest surprise, and was the most criticised, that of Sir John Pakington, has turned out, as far as it has gone, one of the best. He has done his business in the House of Commons very fairly, has committed no glaring faults, and has a very tolerable character in his office for industry and apprehension. Walpole, who was thought one of the most capable, has been a failure. He had the folly to make a strong anti-Catholic speech on the Maynooth grant, and he got into the ridiculous scrape about the votes to Militiamen, which he was forced so awkwardly to withdraw amidst a storm of ridicule from every quarter, the real history of which has never yet been explained. The other members of the Cabinet have appeared as mere dummies, and in the House of Lords Derby has never allowed any of them to speak, taking on himself to answer for every department. Young Stanley does not seem to have had much success in the House of Commons, nor to afford much promise of attaining excellence hereafter, at least as an orator. The Chancellor has done very well in his Court, administering justice ably and expeditiously, and _nolens aut volens_ he has concurred in carrying through Parliament some very important law reforms, which will be followed by more. It is by no means unlikely that more has been done in this way than if John Russell's Government had not been thrown out. Lyndhurst came out with great force, and his speech on the Baron de Bode's case was a masterpiece, which was worthy of his more vigorous age, and drew general admiration. Brougham has been extremely quiet and reasonable, devoting himself almost entirely to law reforms, and doing great service, acting a very honourable and useful part. The Opposition have, on the whole, been very moderate and forbearing, with the sole exception of John Russell's opposition to the Militia Bill, which was a great blunder, and drew on him much resentment and disgust on the part of his own friends and adherents. They appear now to have in great measure forgotten and forgiven this unhappy blunder. Palmerston's course has been thoroughly eccentric, and to this hour nobody can make out what he is at, nor what are the motives and the objects of his conduct. At one time it looked as if he was aiming at a junction with Derby, but he voted with Gladstone in his great attack on the Government, and his language has been uniformly that of their opponent, and as if he still considered himself one of the Whig party, though a perfectly independent one. He has taken a pretty active part during the Session, and a very characteristic one, seldom losing an opportunity of saying something spiteful about his former colleagues, and dealing largely in those liberal clap-traps which have always been the chief part of his political stock-in-trade. He wound up the Session by a bitter attack on Granville and John Russell, when the latter was not in the House, and the House of Lords had ended its sittings, so the former had no opportunity of answering him. He was quite wrong in what he said, and so far as Granville and Lord John were concerned could have been easily answered, but he broke out in his old style about foreign politics and Austria, all of which was loudly cheered and greatly admired by his Radical friends, but the whole exhibition regretted and blamed by the more sensible of his own adherents. This speech proved that he has given up all idea of returning to the Foreign Office, which indeed he professes not to desire.
[Sidenote: LORD PALMERSTON ATTACKS THE WHIGS.]
The above is a very brief and imperfect sketch of the spirit in which the recent short Session has been carried on by the different parties and leaders, presenting a very unsatisfactory prospect for the future; for while a more disgraceful and more degraded Government than this cannot be imagined, it is difficult to see, if they fall, how any fresh combination can be formed, likely to be efficient, popular, and durable. It will be equally difficult to do without, and to do with, John Russell. The Whigs will acknowledge no other leader; their allegiance to him is very loose and capricious; he has lost his popularity and his prestige in the country, and has very little personal influence. Then the unappeasable wrath of the Irish Catholics, who will come to Parliament brigaded together, and above all things determined on his personal exclusion, will make any Government of which he is either the head, or the House of Commons leader, next to impossible. Nothing in the present balanced state of parties can resist a compact body of sixty or seventy men acting together by word of command, and putting a veto on one particular man. No past services nor any future expectations will atone for the Durham Letter, which they seem pledged to a man never to forget or forgive. The country all this time seems to be in a state of complete indifference. The elections are carried on by the opposite parties, but there appears to be no strong current of public opinion in favour of or against any men or any measures. While the press thunders away against Derby and the deep dishonour of his political conduct, the masses seem mighty indifferent on the subject, and as the very conduct that is impugned is principally his shuffling out of his engagement to the cause of Protection, people only become more indifferent from seeing that Free Trade is virtually safe, and so long as the great prosperity now prevailing continues, the country at large does not seem to care a straw whether Lord Derby or Lord anybody else is in office. The zeal of the party in power is always greater _ceteris paribus_ than of that in Opposition, unless some great object is in agitation and at stake, and the Derbyites will make more strenuous efforts to keep the power they have got, than their opponents will make to wrest it from them.
[Sidenote: RESULT OF THE ELECTIONS.]
_London, July 23rd._--After passing a fortnight at Bath, I returned to town, a fortnight ago. The elections are now nearly over, all indeed except some in Ireland. They have been on the whole very unsatisfactory in every respect, and nothing can be more unpromising than our political prospects. The end has been a very considerable gain to the Government, one with which they profess to be perfectly satisfied, and they are quite confident of being able to defeat any attempts to turn them out. In this, I think, they are right, for they certainly will have more than 300 in the House of Commons, all Derbyites, staunch supporters, and moveable like a regiment. The Opposition will number as many, or perhaps rather more; but that is counting Whigs, Radicals of different degrees, Peelites, and the Irish Brigade,--different factions, greatly at variance amongst each other, and who will rarely combine for any political object. There may be about fifty or sixty people who will not consider themselves as belonging to the Government nor to the Opposition, but of whom the majority will probably support the Government, except on particular questions. Disraeli boasts that he shall have 330 followers, and that he knows where to look for stray votes. He probably overrates his regular force, but he will no doubt get a great many of the neutrals. The most remarkable and most deplorable features of the recent election are the exclusion of so many able and respectable men; the malignant and vindictive as well as stupid and obstinate spirit evinced by the constituencies, especially the agricultural, and their bigotry and prejudices, as well as their total indifference to character and intellectual eminence. The conduct of the Government and their supporters has been just what might have been expected from their language in Parliament: they have sacrificed every other object to that of catching votes; at one time and at one place representing themselves as Free Traders, and in another as Protectionists, and everywhere pandering to the ignorance and bigotry of the masses by fanning the No-Popery flame. Disraeli announced that he had no thoughts, and never had any, of attempting to restore Protection in the shape of import duties; but he made magnificent promises of the great things the Government mean to do for the farmers and owners of land, by a scheme the nature and details of which he refused to reveal. All those (comprising almost everybody) who have found themselves obliged to abandon Corn Laws, and to subscribe to the Big Loaf doctrine, have nevertheless talked largely of Protection in the shape of compensation and of justice to the landed interest by means of fiscal arrangements; and this has so far succeeded, that, except in one or two counties, the farmers have been as rabid against Free Trade and for Protection as if the Government had never renounced their old Protectionist principles, and there is no doubt that they have everywhere supported the Derbyite candidates from a conviction that they are to derive some great though unexplained advantage from the Government. This, and the religious cry, and the utter insensibility of the constituencies to the insincere and shuffling conduct of the Ministers and their supporters, have produced the strong party which we shall see established on the right side of the Chair when Parliament meets.
There are also a good number of people who have supported Lord Derby from fear of a Radical alliance between John Russell and Graham and the Manchester men, and the dread of their returning to power with a budget of new Reform Bills, and who really do believe that this Government is, as it pretends to be, a barrier against revolution. Indeed the only satisfactory part of this general election is the undoubted proof it affords of the strength of the Conservative element in the country, and it is only to be regretted that it should be found all enlisted on the side of such a Government as this, and associated with so much of ignorance and fanaticism. These last qualities, however, are common to both parties; and if I had ever been impressed with any popular notions of what is called the good sense of the people, I should be quite disabused of them now; for whichever way we turn our eyes, whether towards those who call themselves Conservative, or those who claim to be Reformers, we find the same evidence of unfitness to deal with important political questions, and to exercise an active influence on public affairs, and on both sides we are disgusted with the profligate means employed by candidates, who pander to every sort of popular prejudice, and in rare instances have the courage and honesty to face them, and to speak out plain and salutary truths.
[Sidenote: DEPRESSION OF THE LIBERAL PARTY.]
The only really creditable election is that of Edinburgh, where Macaulay was elected without solicitation, or his being a candidate, although he did not appear at the election, and the constituency were well aware that his opinions were not in conformity with theirs on many subjects, especially on the religious ones, upon which they are particularly hot and eager. Nowhere else have character or ability availed against political prejudices and animosities. Distinguished men have been rejected for mediocrities, by whom it is discreditable for any great constituency to be represented. The most conspicuous examples of this incongruity have been Lewis in Herefordshire, Sir George Grey in Northumberland, and Cardwell in Liverpool. Pusey was obliged to retire from Berks, and Buxton was beaten in Essex, victims of Protectionist ill-humour and revenge. Both were succeeded by far inferior men, who have no other merit than those Protectionist longings which they do not pretend they shall ever have the means of gratifying. The friends of the late Government and all who abhor this one are of course infinitely disgusted and disheartened at such a state of things, having been very confident that the Government would be in a considerable minority, and that they would be powerless to go on against a majority, which, though scattered, would be overwhelming whenever it could be brought into united action; they are now obliged to perceive that the Government will be much too strong to be speedily turned out; and even if this should happen, that the Tories are too strong to admit of any other Government being formed with a chance of stability and power.
This state of Parliamentary parties has had the effect of reviving the resentment of the Liberals against John Russell, as they attribute to him and his mismanagement the defeat they have sustained at the election and the present unpromising condition of the Liberal party. And the wisest and most moderate men are now only intent on restraining the impatience of those who would attack the Government as soon as possible, and are strenuously urging the policy of abstaining from all violent or vexatious opposition, and of giving the Ministry full leisure and opportunity of developing their policy and proposing their intended measures to the country. This policy will probably be adopted, for it appears to be the opinion of John Russell himself that it is adviseable; but there is such a strong feeling against him that it is impossible to say what amount of influence he may be disposed or be permitted to exercise when the principal men of the various sections of opposition begin to consider the tactics to be adopted. Brooks's grumbles audibly against Lord John, and there is an evident indisposition to accept him again as Prime Minister. Fortescue came to the Duke of Bedford the other day, told him this feeling was very strong and prevalent, and urged him to make it known to his brother.
The object of the malcontents is to prevail on Lord Lansdowne to put himself at the head of the party and the Government, if one can be made, not objecting to Lord John's leading the House of Commons. This is also the object of Palmerston, who would join Lord Lansdowne's Cabinet, but would not serve _under_ John Russell, though he would not object to serve _with_ him.[154] The Duke of Bedford came here to talk it over with me, saying he did not think Lord John would kick at this plan, but that Lord Lansdowne would never consent to it. I told him I did not think Lord Lansdowne's consent so impossible as he imagined, but of course he only could or would agree to it upon its being urged upon him by Lord John himself, and as the only way in which the Liberal Party could be united and any Government formed. We agreed, however, and in this Clarendon strongly concurred, that it would be better not to write to Lord John on the subject (who is in Scotland), but to wait till he and his brother meet, when the matter can be talked over. But even if he should fully assent, it would only get rid of one difficulty, and I much doubt whether with such a numerous and compact Ministerial party and such a divided Opposition, agreeing only in hostility to Derby, and split on almost every great subject, it would be possible to form any other Government, much less one with strong and harmonious action.
[Footnote 154: Curious that this scheme was eventually realised, not under Lord Lansdowne, but under Lord Aberdeen.]
[Sidenote: LORD DERBY AT GOODWOOD.]
_August 2nd._--At Goodwood all last week; glorious weather and the whole thing very enjoyable; a vast deal of great company--Duke of Cambridge, Duke of Mecklenburg, Duke of Parma, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, father of Prince Edward. Derby was there--not in his usual uproarious spirits, chaffing and laughing from morning till night, but cheerful enough, though more sedate than is his wont. We had no political talk at all, at least not general talk; but as the party was mainly Derbyite they communed no doubt amongst each other. They are by way of being very well satisfied with the result of the elections, and their adherents predict a long tenure of office. Derby, half in joke and half in earnest, talked of something that was to happen in a year's time, which he said would probably see them out again. It is not yet admitted as a fact what the gain to Government is, nor what the relative numbers are, but it may be taken roughly at about 300 Derbyites, thoroughgoing supporters; 50 or 60 that cannot be reckoned as belonging to either party; and the rest divided into various sections of opposition and greatly at variance with each other, except in a common sentiment of aversion and determined hostility to the Government.
George Lewis, whom I saw yesterday, gave me a deplorable account of the moral and intellectual state of the constituency of Herefordshire, enough to shake the strongest faith in popular institutions, and reliance on what is called the good sense of the people. In Herefordshire the battle was fought entirely upon the question of Free Trade. There was no religious element there. He was beaten by the farmers and the small proprietors, men with small landed properties, by whom any diminution of rent was severely felt; and by the clergy, who went against him to a man because their incomes had likewise suffered by the fall in the price of grain on which their tithe commutation is calculated. All these classes are animated with resentment against Free Traders, and deceived by the vague promises of the Government that some great relief is to be afforded to them in some unknown shape. The small freeholders were all for Lewis, and if they had voted for him as they had promised he would have gained his election; but no sort of intimidation and violence was spared towards them by the large farmers, and they were frightened and driven to forfeit their pledges, and to vote against him. Their ignorance, he says, is complete. They never see a metropolitan newspaper, and the very little they read is in the local journals, which only seem to foster their prejudices and maintain their delusions. In many instances the voters did not know whom they were going to vote for, nor even who were the candidates. They were made to vote against the Free Traders, and sent to the poll with tickets for the three Protectionists. Out of all this chaos and confusion, so much delusion, such ignorance and easily excited bigotry, such vague and crude political ideas and wishes, the only wonder is that a House of Commons somehow emerges and presents itself which is tolerably respectable in character and ability, and able to discharge its constitutional duties with credit and efficiency.
[Sidenote: LORD LANSDOWNE PROPOSED AS PREMIER.]
_August 9th._--I called on Graham on Friday and found the Duke of Bedford with him. He was exceedingly dejected at the state of public affairs and the result of the elections, which he considered as more favourable to the Government than he had ever anticipated they would be; thinks the amount of bribery and violence which have prevailed has given a great stimulus to the question of Ballot, for which the desire is rapidly extending, and that it will be difficult to oppose it. At the same time he thinks the evil and mischief of the Ballot enormous, and more dangerous in its democratic tendency than any other measure of reform. He said he was in constant and very friendly communication with John Russell, and he considers in the event of a change of government that no arrangement will be feasible except placing him at the head of another administration. The Duke told him there was a scheme afloat to get Lord Lansdowne to take the chief place, which many of the discontented Liberals thought the only plan by which the party could be kept together, but Graham scouted this as impossible. This is what Palmerston wants, because it would remove his difficulty; but Graham thinks it will be impossible for any real reconciliation to take place between John Russell and Palmerston, and that there would be so many other difficulties, especially with Aberdeen, whom the Peelites regard as their chief, that Palmerston's return to office at all is out of the question, and he evidently regards as no improbable contingency a junction between Palmerston and Derby, which, as we told him, was quite inconsistent with the language of both Palmerston and Lady Palmerston, who always talked as if he belonged to the Liberal Party, and evinced a great dislike and contempt for the Derby Government.
We then talked of the quarrel with America about the fisheries, which Graham looked upon as very serious, and he contemplates the possibility of Palmerston, moved by hatred and rivalry of Aberdeen, making common cause with the Government and joining them on the pretext of taking up a national question and fighting a national battle; but neither the Duke nor I would agree to this being likely. Graham told us he had had a very friendly correspondence with Gladstone, to whom he had written to congratulate him on his election, and he read Gladstone's reply, which was very cordial and amicable.
[Sidenote: CHARACTER OF COUNT D'ORSAY.]
The death of D'Orsay, which took place the other day at Paris, is a matter not of political, but of some social interest. Nature had given him powers which might have raised him to very honourable distinction, and have procured him every sort of success, if they had been well and wisely employed, instead of the very reverse. He was extremely good-looking, very quick, lively, good-natured, and agreeable, with considerable talent, taste for, and knowledge of art, and very tolerably well-informed. Few _amateurs_ have excelled him as a painter and a sculptor, though his merit was not so great as it appeared, because he constantly got helped, and his works retouched by eminent artists, whose society he cultivated, and many of whom were his intimate friends. His early life and connexion with the Blessington family was enveloped in a sort of half mystery, for it was never exactly known how his ill-omened marriage was brought about; but the general notion was, that Lord Blessington and Lady Blessington were equally in love with him, and it is certain that his influence over the Earl was unbounded.[155] Whatever his relations may have been with the rest of the family, he at all events devoted his whole life to _her_, and employed all his faculties in making Gore House, where they resided together for many years, an attractive and agreeable abode. His extravagance at one period had plunged him into inextricable difficulties, from which neither his wife's fortune, a large portion of which was sacrificed, nor the pecuniary aid of friends on whom he levied frequent contributions, were sufficient to relieve him, and for some years he made himself a prisoner at Gore House, and never stirred beyond its four walls, except on a Sunday, to avoid being incarcerated in a more irksome confinement. Nothing, however, damped his gaiety, and he procured the enjoyment of constant society, and devoted himself assiduously to the cultivation of his talent for painting and sculpture, for which he erected a studio in the garden. He was extremely hospitable, and managed to collect a society which was very miscellaneous, but included many eminent and remarkable men of all descriptions, professions, and countries, so that it was always curious and often entertaining. Foreigners of all nations were to be met with there, especially exiles and notabilities of any kind. He was the friend of Louis Napoleon and the friend of Louis Blanc, both of whom at different times I met at Gore House. He had a peculiar talent for drawing people out, and society might have been remarkably agreeable there if the lady of the house had contributed more to make it so. Of course no women ever went there, except a few who were in some way connected with D'Orsay and Lady Blessington; and exotic personages, such as Madame Guiccioli, who lived with them whenever she came to England. There never was a foreigner who so completely took root in England as D'Orsay, except perhaps the Russian Matuscewitz. He spoke and wrote English perfectly, and he thoroughly understood the country. He was always ridiculing the crude and absurd notions which his own countrymen formed of England; they came here, and after passing a few weeks in scampering about seeing sights, they fancied they thoroughly understood the genius and the institutions of the country, and talked with a pretension and vain complacency which D'Orsay used to treat with excessive contempt, and lash with unsparing ridicule. He had in fact become thoroughly English in tastes, habits and pursuits; his antecedent life, his connexion with Lady Blessington, and the vague but prevalent notion of his profligate and immoral character, made it impossible for him to obtain admission into the best society, but he managed to gather about him a miscellaneous but numerous assemblage of personages not fastidious, or troubled by any scruples of a refined morality, which made Gore House a considerable social notability in its way. Lyndhurst and Brougham were constant guests; the Bulwers, Landseer, Macready, all authors, artists, and men eminent in any liberal profession, mixed with strangers of every country and colour; and D'Orsay's fashionable associates made the house a very gay and often agreeable resort. Whatever his faults may have been, and his necessities made him unscrupulous and indelicate about money matters, he was very obliging, good-natured, and _serviable_; partly from vanity and ostentation, but also in great measure from humane motives he was always putting himself forward to promote works of charity and beneficence, and he exerted all the influence he possessed, which was not inconsiderable, to assist distressed genius and merit in every class. He was very anti-Orleanist during the reign of Louis Philippe, and though his connexions were Legitimist, his personal sympathies were enlisted on the side of Louis Napoleon, with whom he had considerable intimacy here, and whose future greatness he always anticipated and predicted. When the derangement of Lady Blessington's affairs broke up the establishment at Gore House, and compelled her to migrate to Paris, D'Orsay naturally expected that the elevation of Louis Napoleon would lead to some good appointment for himself, and he no doubt was deeply mortified at not obtaining any, and became a _frondeur_ in consequence. It was, however, understood that the President wished to give him a mission, and he certainly was very near being made Minister at Hanover, but that the French Ministers would not consent to it. He was unpopular in France and ill-looked upon, in consequence of having quitted the army when ordered on active service, in what was considered a discreditable manner, and consequently his social position at Paris was not near so good as that which he enjoyed in England, though it was of the same description, as he lived chiefly with authors, artists, and actors, or rather actresses; but a short time ago, when the President was become omnipotent and could dispense his patronage and his favours as he pleased, he created a place for D'Orsay connected with the Department of the Fine Arts, which exactly suited his taste, and would have made the rest of his life easy, if he had continued to live, and his patron continued to reign.
[Footnote 155: [It was Lord Blessington who induced Alfred D'Orsay, then a very young man, to throw up his commission in the Guards of the King of France (for which the French never forgave him), and to become a member of the Blessington family. This was done with a formal promise to the Count's family that he should be provided for, and a marriage was accordingly brought about between him and the only daughter and heiress of Lord Blessington by his first marriage, which turned out very ill.]]
[Sidenote: DIVISION IN THE LIBERAL PARTY.]
_August 11th._--A great deal of communication has been taking place between the Duke of Bedford, Clarendon, and Graham, who are all in town, and between them, by correspondence, and John Russell, Lansdowne, Grey, and others; the result of the whole exhibiting a deplorable state of disunion and disorganisation in the Liberal party, and the prospect of enormous and apparently irreconcilable difficulties when they come together. John Russell and Graham are upon very intimate and cordial terms, and so are Lord John and Aberdeen. The Whigs are divided, some being entirely for John Russell, while others, still resenting his past conduct, and many personally dissatisfied with him, are strongly opposed to his being again Prime Minister. The Peelites, Graham thinks, would not consent to join a government of which he was to be at the head. The object of Fortescue and others is to reconstitute the Whig party with additions, and Lansdowne at the head of it. In the course of a very friendly and frank correspondence Graham has lately intimated to Lord John the objections that might be raised in certain quarters to his being again Prime Minister, to which he responded without any anger, but said he had long ago made up his mind not to belong to any Government unless he was replaced in his post, and that he should consider it 'a degradation' to accept any other; but if a Liberal Government was formed under another chief he would give it every aid in his power. Graham combated the idea of its being any degradation to take another office, and give way to another chief, if circumstances imperatively demanded such a sacrifice of him, and said it could be no degradation to him to be what Mr. Fox was in 1806, Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and leader of the House of Commons. The Duke of Bedford wrote to Lord John on the same topic, and told him what he had heard from different quarters; but Lord John took it ill, and wrote a much crosser letter than he did to Graham, so that it is evident the question of headship will itself be very difficult to arrange.
Then there is the question of Reform in Parliament. To this John Russell is entirely and irrevocably committed, and Graham thinks he can return to office on no other terms, while Lansdowne and several of the leading Whigs are vehemently opposed to it, and the former would certainly not accept the office of Premier, probably not join the Government at all, except on an understanding that there should be no Reform at all, or a measure infinitely less than John Russell is committed to. Then Palmerston is against Reform, and the Peelites are divided or undecided about it. Newcastle would go with John Russell and be a Reformer; Gladstone and Sidney Herbert might probably go the other way. The Whig party are divided also, and I own I do not see how any other Government could by possibility be formed which could obtain Liberal support enough to stand, and yet agree on this question. In the event of a change another election would be indispensably necessary; and if the question of Reform was to be the one put before the country for its decision, it is as likely as not that the country would decide against it. Most assuredly at the recent election 'Reform' found no very extensive favour among the constituencies, and a good deal of Derby's popularity arose from the notion that his is a Conservative Government, and a barrier against revolutionary measures. At this moment, while there is a general prosperity and content, the country is in a Conservative humour, and does not wish for organic changes, nor will it wish for any such until pressure or distress of some sort shall occur, when it might be excited and deluded into a desire for novelties. What public opinion requires is reform of the law, and those amendments of an administrative kind which lead to practical results intelligible to all, and these the Derby Government may give the people, and will do so if they are wise. This Government is certainly on the whole rather popular than not, and its ambiguous and insincere conduct has failed to discredit it with those who were favourable to its advent to power. It has got the whole body of the agriculturists, all the Church, and a large proportion of the wealthy middle classes on its side, at least 300 devoted adherents in the House of Commons, and an Opposition in a state of disunion, without a leader, and full of personal antipathies, and incompatible objects, opinions and pretensions. A more hopeless fix I never recollect. If this Government were better composed, and its members had more experience and ability, and higher principles, it would have little difficulty in maintaining itself against such a discordant Opposition; but so far as one can judge, it seems probable that they will create great reverses for themselves by their blunders, and by the disgust which their dishonesty has given, and will give, to some of the more consistent or more obstinate of their own friends.
[Sidenote: LORD GRANBY'S CONSISTENCY.]
The Duke of Rutland confided to the Duke of Bedford the other day that he is very uneasy about Granby, who is extremely dissatisfied with the course the Government is taking, and much inclined to give utterance to his feelings and opinions. His father has done his best to pacify him, but finds him very difficult to move. The Duke of Rutland remonstrated that he would seriously injure the Government he was attached to, and his own brother, who was a member of it; to which he replied he would not abstain from attacking his own brother if he chose to desert the principles he had always maintained. The Duke of Bedford told the Duke of Rutland he thought Granby's feelings did him great credit; that though his conclusions were unsound, his conscientious adherence to the principles he had always avowed, and still maintained, were very honourable to him, and so he should tell him when he saw him. This schism is important, and if they cannot muzzle Granby will prove very injurious to the Government; but I suppose they will talk him over before Parliament meets, as they have done so many others. Meanwhile in the midst of such confusion and difficulty as the Liberal cause is involved in, John Russell has taken one step towards clearing the way, for he has requested Aberdeen to communicate with Gladstone, Newcastle, and Sidney Herbert, and ascertain what their disposition is concerning a junction, and what their views are. This may probably lead to something one way or another.
_August 28th._--I went to Bolton Abbey for two days before York races, then to Nun Appleton for them; since that to Brocket, and back to town. Found nothing new except a letter from John Russell to Clarendon, the contents of which greatly surprised Clarendon and the Duke of Bedford, as he said in reference to Reform that he was not disposed to insist on disfranchisement, and certainly should not propose it against the opinion and wishes of many of his friends. For this moderation and concession they were not prepared. The great question for the Liberal party to decide now is, whether they shall propose any amendment to the Address, and John Russell and Charles Wood both think this should not be done without absolute necessity, but that if anything is said in the Queen's Speech indicative of Protectionist intentions, or any slur thrown on Free Trade, then they cannot avoid some affirmative expression of their own principles and of the benefits resulting from them; but nothing will be decided on till Parliament meets and they know what Derby is going to do. They have made Granby Lord Lieutenant of Lincolnshire, which will probably have the effect of stopping his mouth, if it does not remove his discontent.
Lord Cowley has been to me to consult me about a communication he has had from Lord Derby relating to his proxy, which Derby has desired to have placed in his hands. Cowley, who accepted the post at Paris from the late Government on the express condition that it should not be a political appointment, he not being bound to support them in the House of Lords, justly thinks it would be inconsistent with that understanding if he were now to join this Government and give them his proxy, and he has declined to do so. He had an interview with Derby, and told him all this. Derby took it ill, drew up and said he thought this a different case, and that he ought to give him the proxy. He added that he was placed in a very difficult position, not even knowing that he had a majority in the House of Lords, and as he considered this the last chance of establishing a Conservative Government in this country he felt bound to make every exertion to maintain himself in power, and he intimated as much as that on his consent to give his proxy would depend his retaining the Embassy. Cowley and I concocted a letter to Derby, in which he gave his reasons for declining to do this, but that he would place it in the Duke of Wellington's hands. This is not of much importance; but it evinces, from Derby's tone as well as conduct, a sense of insecurity and difficulty as to his position greater than I thought he felt.
[Sidenote: EFFORTS TO STRENGTHEN THE GOVERNMENT.]
Mellish of the Foreign Office told me the other day that Lord Malmesbury had one very good quality, firmness; that his firmness brought about the settlement of the Danish Question, and in the office he was evidently resolved to maintain his own authority. He said he had seen Malmesbury put down----with great tact, when the other showed a disposition to take upon himself. The fact is, he is not an incapable man at all, though inexperienced to the greatest degree.
_August 31st._--To Brocket with Clarendon on Saturday, and came back yesterday. Before I went, I saw Graham, and found him fully persuaded that a change is about to take place in the Government, which, if it occurs, he fancies he has indirectly been instrumental in bringing about. He said that Goulburn came to him the other day and told him Walpole, who is a great friend of Goulburn's, is very sick of his office, and annoyed at the mess he has got into about the Militia; that he wanted very much to be Solicitor-General originally, and that he now finds himself thrown out of his profession of the law, and holding a situation which he may lose any day. Graham said, Why does not he take the vacant Vice-Chancellorship? and Derby may offer the Home Secretaryship to Palmerston, who is the man (if any can) to get them out of the Militia difficulty. Goulburn seemed to catch at this suggestion, and Graham has no doubt he suggested it to Walpole; and he has entirely persuaded himself that the arrangement will take place. He says Disraeli would concede the lead to Palmerston, and as Palmerston would only join on Protection being formally abandoned, it would give Derby a capital opportunity of giving it up and of satisfying his party by giving them Palmerston, and with him a secure tenure of office. He says, if Palmerston joined, Gladstone would probably follow, and then they would have a strong Government; all the Conservatives opposed to Reform would rally round it, and they would be able to go on. Clarendon and I talked it over, and without arriving at Graham's conclusions, we both agreed that this arrangement was not improbable. It seems to be the interest both of Derby and Palmerston to make it; and if Protection should be given up, there appears no difference between them, for Palmerston is a strenuous Anti-Reformer. It seems John Russell has written to Graham in the same terms as to Clarendon, and said he would not propose any disfranchisement without the assent of his Whig friends. Graham sent him a letter of Joe Parke's in which that worthy said the Radicals were well disposed towards Lord John, and he sketched the sort of Reform Bill that ought to be proposed, to which Lord John wrote rather a lofty answer, and in a more peremptory style than Graham liked. The truth is he is in this fix, that he cannot do much without offending the Whigs, nor little without alienating the Radicals; nor do I see how this difficulty is to be got over.
[Sidenote: DEATH OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.]
_London, September 18th._--It was at Doncaster on Wednesday morning last that I heard of the Duke of Wellington's death, which at first nobody believed, but they speedily telegraphed to London, and the answer proved that the report was correct. Doncaster was probably the only place in the kingdom where the sensation caused by this event was not absorbing and profound; but there, on the morning of the St. Leger, most people were too much occupied with their own concerns to bestow much thought or lamentation on this great national loss. Everywhere else the excitement and regret have been unexampled, and the press has been admirable, especially the 'Times,' the biographical notice and article in which paper were both composed many months ago, and shown to me. Indeed the notices of the Duke and the characters drawn of him have been so able and elaborate in all the newspapers, that they leave little or nothing to be said. Still, there were minute traits of character and peculiarities about the Duke which it was impossible for mere public writers and men personally unacquainted with him to seize, but the knowledge and appreciation of which are necessary in order to form a just and complete conception of the man. In spite of some foibles and faults, he was, beyond all doubt, a very great man--the only great man of the present time--and comparable, in point of greatness, to the most eminent of those who have lived before him. His greatness was the result of a few striking qualities--a perfect simplicity of character without a particle of vanity or conceit, but with a thorough and strenuous self-reliance, a severe truthfulness, never misled by fancy or exaggeration, and an ever-abiding sense of duty and obligation which made him the humblest of citizens and most obedient of subjects. The Crown never possessed a more faithful, devoted, and disinterested subject. Without personal attachment to any of the monarchs whom he served, and fully understanding and appreciating their individual merits and demerits, he alike reverenced their great office in the persons of each of them, and would at any time have sacrificed his ease, his fortune, or his life, to serve the Sovereign and the State. Passing almost his whole life in command and authority, and regarded with universal deference and submission, his head was never turned by the exalted position he occupied, and there was no duty, however humble, he would not have been ready to undertake at the bidding of his lawful superiors, whose behests he would never have hesitated to obey. Notwithstanding his age and his diminished strength, he would most assuredly have gone anywhere and have accepted any post in which his personal assistance might have been essential to the safety or advantage of the realm. He had more pride in obeying than in commanding, and he never for a moment considered that his great position and elevation above all other subjects released him from the same obligation which the humblest of them acknowledged. He was utterly devoid of personal and selfish ambition, and there never was a man whose greatness was so _thrust_ upon him. It was in this dispassionate unselfishness, and sense of duty and moral obligation, that he was so superior to Napoleon Bonaparte, who, with more genius and fertility of invention, was the slave of his own passions, unacquainted with moral restraint, indifferent to the well-being and happiness of his fellow-creatures; and who in pursuit of any objects at which his mind grasped trampled under foot without remorse or pity all divine and human laws, and bore down every obstacle and scorned every consideration which opposed themselves to his absolute and despotic will. The Duke was a good-natured, but not an amiable man; he had no tenderness in his disposition, and never evinced much affection for any of his relations. His nature was hard, and he does not appear to have had any real affection for anybody, man or woman, during the latter years of his life, since the death of Mrs. Arbuthnot, to whom he probably was attached, and in whom he certainly confided. Domestic enjoyment he never possessed, and, as his wife was intolerable to him, though he always kept on decent terms with her, at least, ostensibly, he sought the pleasure of women's society in a variety of capricious _liaisons_, from which his age took off all scandal: these he took up or laid aside and changed as fancy and inclination prompted him. His intimate friends and adherents used to smile at these senile _engouements_, but sometimes had to regret the ridicule to which they would have exposed him if a general reverence and regard had not made him a privileged person, and permitted him to do what no other man could have done with impunity. In his younger days he was extremely addicted to gallantry, and had great success with women, of whom one in Spain gained great influence over him, and his passion for whom very nearly involved him in serious difficulties. His other ladies did little more than amuse his idle hours and subserve his social habits, and with most of them his _liaisons_ were certainly very innocent. He had been very fond of Grassini, and the successful lover of some women of fashion, whose weaknesses have never been known, though perhaps suspected. These habits of female intimacy and gossip led him to take a great interest in a thousand petty affairs, in which he delighted to be mixed up and consulted. He was always ready to enter into any personal matters, intrigues, or quarrels, political or social difficulties, and to give his advice, which generally (though not invariably) was very sound and good; but latterly he became morose and inaccessible, and cursed and swore at the people who sought to approach him, even on the most serious and necessary occasions.
[Sidenote: CHARACTERISTICS OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.]
Although the Duke's mind was still very vigorous, and he wrote very good papers on the various subjects which were submitted for his judgement and opinion, his prejudices had become so much stronger and more unassailable, that he gave great annoyance and a good deal of difficulty to the Ministers who had to transact business with him. He was opposed to almost every sort of change and reform in the military administration, and it was a task of no small difficulty to steer between the exigencies of public opinion and his objections and resistance. As it was always deemed an object to keep him in good humour, and many considerations forbade anything like a dissension with him, or an appeal against him to the public, the late Ministers often acted, or refrained from acting, in deference to his opinions and against their own, and took on themselves all the responsibility of maintaining his views and measures, even when they thought he was wrong. His habits were latterly very solitary, and after the death of Arbuthnot he had no intimacy with any one, nor any friend to whom he could talk freely and confidentially. As long as Arbuthnot lived he confided everything to him, and those who wished to communicate with the Duke almost always did so through him.
Notwithstanding the friendly and eulogistic terms in which he spoke of Sir Robert Peel just after his death, it is very certain that the Duke disliked him, and during the latter part of their Administration he seldom had any communication with Peel except such as passed through Arbuthnot. The Duke deeply resented, and I believe never heartily forgave, Peel's refusal to have anything to do with the Administration he so unwisely undertook to form on Lord Grey's sudden resignation in 1832, in the middle of the Reform contest; but this did not prevent his advising King William to make Peel Prime Minister, and taking office under him in 1835, and again in 1841. They acted together very harmoniously during Peel's Administration, but the Duke (though he sided with Sir Robert when the schism took place) in his heart bitterly lamented and disapproved his course about the Repeal of the Corn Laws, not so much from aversion to Free Trade as because it produced a fresh and final break-up of the Conservative party, which he considered the greatest evil which could befall the country. But whatever may have been his real sentiments with regard to various public men, he never allowed any partialities or antipathies to appear in his manner or behaviour towards them, and he was always courteous, friendly, and accessible to all, especially those in office, who had recourse to him for his advice and opinion. He had all his life been long accustomed to be consulted, and he certainly liked it till the last, and was pleased with the marks of deference and attention which were continually paid to him.
[Sidenote: THE DUKE'S GENEROSITY AND INDEPENDENCE.]
His position was eminently singular and exceptional, something between the Royal Family and other subjects. He was treated with greater respect than any individual not of Royal birth, and the whole Royal Family admitted him to a peculiar and exclusive familiarity and intimacy in their intercourse with him, which, while he took it in the easiest manner, and as if naturally due to him, he never abused or presumed upon. No man was more respectful or deferential towards the Sovereign and other Royal personages, but at the same time he always gave them his opinions and counsels with perfect frankness and sincerity, and never condescended to modify them to suit their prejudices or wishes. Upon every occasion of difficulty, public or private, he was always appealed to, and he was always ready to come forward and give his assistance and advice in his characteristic, plain, and straightforward manner. If he had written his own memoirs, he might have given to the world the most curious history of his own times that ever was composed, but he was the last man to deal in autobiography. One of his peculiarities was never to tell anybody where he was going, and when my brother or his own sons wished to be acquainted with his intentions, they were obliged to apply to the housekeeper, to whom he was in the habit of making them known, and nobody ever dared to ask him any questions on the subject. He was profuse but careless and indiscriminating in his charities, and consequently he was continually imposed upon, especially by people who pretended to have served under him, or to be the descendants or connexions of those who had, and it was very difficult to restrain his disposition to send money to every applicant who approached him under that pretence. Partly from a lofty feeling of independence and disinterestedness, and partly from indifference, he was a very bad patron to his relations and adherents, and never would make any applications for their benefit. The consequence was that he was not an object of affection, even to those who looked up to him with profound veneration and respect. He held popularity in great contempt, and never seemed touched or pleased at the manifestations of popular admiration and attachment of which he was the object. Whenever he appeared in public he was always surrounded by crowds of people, and when he walked abroad everybody who met him saluted him; but he never seemed to notice the curiosity or the civilities which his presence elicited.
APPENDICES.
APPENDIX A.
LETTER ON THE DEFENCES OF THE COUNTRY.
Early in the year 1848, on the eve of the great convulsion caused by the French Revolution of February, Mr. Cobden delivered a speech in Manchester in which he ridiculed armaments and attacked the Duke of Wellington for his recent attempt to call public attention to the defences of the country. This led Mr. Greville to address the following letter to Mr. Cobden, in the 'Times' of February 2, 1848:--
Sir,--I have read with regret your recent speech at Manchester, more especially your comments on the Duke of Wellington's letter to Sir John Burgoyne, which are as unworthy of yourself as they are unjust and disrespectful to that illustrious person. It is fit that the real facts concerning that letter and its publication should be made known to the world, for the exaggerations and misrepresentations which have grown out of it are both injurious to the Duke of Wellington, and the source of much mischief and error in respect to the vexed question of national defence.
The letter (which is now above a year old) was a reply to one addressed by Sir John Burgoyne to his Grace upon the defence of the country. It was an exposition of the Duke's views and opinions, written, not merely without the least notion of its ever being published, but imparted confidentially, and (as I believe) without any idea that the contents of it would ever be divulged; but, by a most extraordinary and reprehensible breach of propriety and prudence, copies were taken of this letter, which were carelessly distributed, and almost hawked about the world. Curiosity and interest soon became excited. These copies were greedily sought, and particularly by those who subscribe to the Duke's opinions on the subject. Allusions and extracts first made their appearance in a newspaper, and at length the letter was published _in extenso_, without the consent or knowledge, and (as those who best know his sentiments affirm) very much to the annoyance and displeasure of the Duke. It is a great mistake to deal with this letter as if it were a formal official document, taken out of a Blue Book. No man knows better than the Duke of Wellington the difference between what is desirable and what is practicable. In writing confidentially to his military colleague, he naturally imparted to him what he thought it would be expedient to do; but, in dealing practically with such a subject, we may be sure that he never loses sight of the various complex considerations which the Government must look to, and of the necessity of combining the military exigencies with the political and financial circumstances of the country.
In explaining that the Duke's letter was not intended for publication, I am far from meaning to admit that the letter itself requires any apology, though the same cannot be said of the comments you have thought fit to make upon it; you misrepresented both its matter and its spirit, and all who respect your character and admire your abilities must have lamented to hear you treat the Duke himself with a contumely unbecoming in the mouth of any one, but especially so in that of a man with the high reputation which you deservedly enjoy. In vain, too, do we look in your speech for any of that vigorous reasoning with which you fought the great battle of Free Trade. Had you not sustained that cause with more forcible arguments than you have produced on the present occasion, you would never have obtained a European celebrity, and the flag might still be flying on the citadel of Protection.
You, and those who think with you, appear to rely mainly on two propositions:--
1. That a war with France is next to impossible; so improbable as to be not worth providing against.
2. That, in case of war, our naval superiority will always protect us from invasion or insult.
So far as I can find out, the only reasons and arguments by which you maintain the former of these propositions are your own demonstration that all nations would do well and wisely to turn their swords into ploughshares, and for the future to interchange merchandise instead of blows, and the fact that some French Free Traders have been making speeches marvellously resembling your own, and abounding with the same wholesome truths. The recommendations of Messrs. Visinet and CrÈmieux, as well as your own, are unquestionably replete with wisdom, and happy would it be if all the world would embrace them; if, besides such admirable speeches, we could see any essential reduction in the French tariff, or if the efforts of the French Opposition were seriously directed to promote the cause of commercial reform; but although you, Sir, in your recent tour throughout Europe, have been everywhere received with all the honour which is justly due to you, and though you have abundantly scattered the seeds of sound information and advice, we have yet to learn that any one country that you have visited, or any one Government with which you communicated, has put your lessons in practice.
[Sidenote: DEFENCES OF THE COUNTRY.]
But while we are invited to accept such speculative reasoning as conclusive proof of the inviolability of peace, unfortunately one page of very recent history sweeps away the whole concatenation of your logic, the narration of which may produce something both of reflexion and anticipation. I admit that a war with France is not a probable event, but the same thing might have been said (perhaps with more truth) in 1844. The present Government, indeed, is no less pacifically inclined than the last, but it is well known that the relations of the two countries are by no means so intimate now as they were at the former period; and if, by any unhappy accident, differences should now occur, the same facilities for reconciliation and adjustment might not be forthcoming. And yet, in 1844, with the _entente cordiale_ in full force, when M. Guizot and Lord Aberdeen were knit together by the closest ties of personal as well as diplomatic friendship, we suddenly found ourselves on the very brink of war. Everybody must remember the Tahiti affair, but many may have forgotten or never known its momentous details. The English Government considered itself aggrieved by France, and demanded reparation for the alleged wrong. The French Minister refused to give us the full measure of satisfaction that our honour required. A serious, and for a long time a fruitless discussion ensued between the two Governments, pending which an adjournment of the two Houses of Parliament took place. About a month afterwards (in the beginning of September) they met again. The day was fixed for the prorogation, and still the dispute with France was unsettled. At this crisis, and at the eleventh hour, a last offer was made by the French Government. There was barely time to consider it. The Cabinet was assembled for that purpose on the afternoon of the 4th. On the result of its deliberations the question of peace or war depended. There was very little to spare, for the maximum which M. Guizot could bring himself to offer was the minimum that we could with honour accept. However, the proposal was accepted, and on the following day the speech from the Throne announced that the reconciliation was effected, but in terms which showed the magnitude of the danger from which the world had escaped. 'Her Majesty,' it ran, 'has recently been engaged in discussions with the Government of the King of the French on events _calculated to interrupt the good understanding and friendly relations between this country and France_; you will rejoice to learn that, by the spirit of justice and moderation which has animated the two Governments, _this danger is now happily averted_.' The storm blew over, the Funds rose, and the country (slightly ruffled) relapsed into its ordinary state of security and repose. For some time before this incident, the Duke of Wellington had been urging the Government to make themselves stronger, and our naval force had been considerably increased. But it is not surprising that what had recently occurred, and the narrow escape we had had of being actually at war, should have made the Duke still more anxiously alive to the situation in which the country would have been placed if a rupture had unhappily taken place. He knew that the risks to which it was exposed were incalculably great. He knew that, in spite of all the difficulties we could interpose, it was far from _impossible_ for an able and active enemy to inflict upon us, unprepared as we were, a disastrous, and a dishonourable blow. The spirit and patriotism of the warrior and the statesman rose up within him at the degrading thought, and from that moment he has never ceased to urge the Government of the day to place the country as soon as possible in a proper posture of defence; not, as it has been falsely and foolishly asserted, to prepare in peace for the last extremity, and incur the full cost of war, but, by making our moderate establishments really efficient, and adopting those defensive precautions which his great sagacity and profound knowledge of the art of war enabled him to suggest, to place the British Islands in a state of security against any sudden attack. And for thus contemplating the possibility of a catastrophe, which all but happened not four years ago, and for warning his countrymen against the danger, and showing them how to avert it, he is held up to the derision of a great assembly as a mischievous dotard, whose age is his only excuse. Having thrust aside the Duke of Wellington, you consistently proceeded in your speech to inform your audience that of such questions as the probability of peace or war, questions depending on various complex and secret operations of international policy, 'merchants and manufacturers, shopkeepers, operatives--ay, and calico printers,' are the most competent judges. Far be it from me to speak of these classes with the contempt with which you have treated the Duke and all others who defer to his opinions. They are entitled to respect, for they constitute a large part of the intelligence of the nation. Amongst them may be found silly and conceited persons, ready to swallow such flattery as you have condescended to tickle them with, but I believe they are, for the most part, men of sober and robust minds, who will not be misled by such fallacious compliments, and form a juster estimate of their own capacities, and the matters on which their habits, pursuits, and education render them really competent to decide. I think I have shown that war is not a contingency so utterly improbable as you would have the English public believe, and that those who contemplate the possibility of such a calamity are not necessarily the dotards, cowards, and fools, that you represent them. I am satisfied that the Sovereigns, the Ministers, the Parliaments, and the people of both countries desire the maintenance of peace. But what can insure us against future Pritchards, and D'AubignÈs, and Bruats? Unforeseen accidents may beget untoward events, and the sparks of a fortuitous collision falling on some combustible matter may produce an explosion of national resentment or pride which no moderation and wisdom may be sufficient to extinguish. We have been taught to believe that the life of the French King is Europe's best security for the continuation of peace. Time is rapidly stealing away that security from us; and who can say when that wise head and steady hand shall be withdrawn, how long the elements of discord and confusion will be prevented from breaking loose? Nothing is more remarkable than the exaggeration which has marked the whole course of opposition to the plans of national defence. Their advocates, the Duke of Wellington at the head of them, are taunted with the folly of proposing a war establishment in a time of profound peace. Do those critics know what it is in contemplation to propose now, and what preparations were made when an invasion was really apprehended? The present purpose is to replenish our empty arsenals, add about 2,000 men to the artillery, and gradually (by 10,000 men at a time) to call out and discipline the Militia; these, together with the completion of the fortifications already in progress, are understood to be the defensive and precautionary measures which Parliament will be invited to sanction, and against which such a clamour is raised. Look at what was done in 1803 and 1804, when war was about to break out, and the camp of Boulogne was in process of formation. To encounter the army of 150,000 men which Napoleon was marshalling on the opposite coast, we had _in these islands_ 650,000 men in arms: there were 130,000 Regulars, 110,000 Militia, and above 400,000 Volunteers. And three years later, when all dread of invasion had vanished, when the navies of France had been utterly destroyed, our forces _in England_ were not less than 200,000 men.
[Sidenote: DEFENCES OF THE COUNTRY.]
That our naval superiority must always be our chief reliance is undoubtedly true; but here, again, we have history against speculation, and we may look to the past for instruction as to the future. In 1796 nothing but storms and tempests prevented Hoche's expedition from accomplishing the invasion of Ireland or of England, if the French had preferred such an attempt. The events of that period have been thus recorded by Mr. Alison and Mr. James:--'The results of the expedition,' says the former, 'were pregnant with important instruction to both countries: to the French as demonstrating the extraordinary risks which attend a maritime expedition, the small number of forces which can be embarked on board, even of a great fleet, and the unforeseen disasters which frequently on that element defeat the best concerted enterprise; to the English, as showing that the empire of the seas does not always afford security against invasion; that, in the face of superior maritime forces, her possessions had been for sixteen days at the mercy of the enemy, and that neither the skill of her sailors nor the valour of her armies, but the fury of the elements, had saved them from danger in the most vulnerable point of her dominions. While these considerations are fitted to abate the confidence of invasion, they are calculated to weaken our own confidence in naval superiority, and to demonstrate that the only basis on which certain reliance can be placed, even in an insular Power, is a well-disciplined army and the patriotism of its own subjects.' Mr. James says:--'That a succession of storms, such as those with which the British Channel was visited, should disperse an encumbered and ill-manned French fleet ought not to excite surprise, but that during the three or four weeks that the ships of this fleet were traversing the English and Irish Channels in every direction, neither of the two British fleets appointed to look after them should have succeeded in capturing a single ship, may certainly be noted down as an extraordinary circumstance.' Steam has now made a great revolution in naval as well as social affairs; but though, in the long run, this country is more likely to profit by it than France, it is incontestable that the accidents and unforeseen circumstances of modern warfare render this country more vulnerable than it was under the old system. The general arguments have, however, been so amply and so ably stated in publications without end, that it would be superfluous to say more on the reality of the danger, and the wisdom of making adequate provision to meet it. But it is hard for any man who cares for the dignity or safety of his country, and who honours its greatest citizen and patriot, to endure in silence such a speech as you have lately delivered. You have acquired great influence over vast multitudes of men; you may safely guide or mischievously mislead a large amount of public opinion, and those who, from the vigour and intelligence of your past career, entertained sanguine expectations of your future usefulness as a public man, must feel deep disappointment and sorrow at the very different prospect held out by your recent display.
I am, Sir, &c., C. C. G.
(The 'Times,' February 2, 1848.)
APPENDIX B.
LETTER ON THE ANTI-PAPAL AGITATION.
The following is the letter signed 'Carolus' which Mr. Greville addressed to the 'Times' on the subject of the Protestant Agitation, on December 9, 1850, which is referred to in the text:--
_To the Editor of the 'Times.'_
[Sidenote: THE ANTI-PAPAL AGITATION.]
Sir,--I am one of those who think we have had enough, and more than enough, of anti-Papal agitation. All the good it can produce has been achieved, while the evil is still increasing. The good, which I do not underrate, is a manifestation of the strong and universal attachment of the people of this country to the Protestant religion. The evil, the revival of sectarian animosities, and of that intolerant zeal so alien to the true spirit of Christianity, and which has ever been the bane and the torment of every country in which it has prevailed. I refrain from commenting upon the harangues and addresses which for weeks past have been resounding through the country and filling your columns, and I only hope that in all Europe nobody reads these effusions but ourselves, for they will not exalt our national reputation. It may be a vain attempt to sprinkle some drops of reason and remonstrance upon the raging furnace of popular excitement; but, like everything in this world, abuse and ridicule of the Pope and railing against the Roman Catholic religion must at last come to an end. When all this fury has exhausted itself, and people get tired of reading or of hearing the same stale repetitions, they will begin to take a more sober and practical view of the case, and to consider what this mountain in labour is eventually to produce. We shall assuredly look exceedingly foolish if all the hubbub should turn out to have been made without some definite, reasonable, and, moreover, attainable object; and yet we appear to be in imminent danger of finding ourselves in this perplexing and mortifying predicament. We cry out that an insult has been offered by the Pope to the English Crown and nation; that the ecclesiastical constitution which he has promulgated is illegal or unconstitutional, and that it shall not be endured. When the Queen of England is insulted, or her subjects are injured by any foreign Power, she demands redress, and, failing to obtain it, she exacts it by her armies and her fleets. Are we to hold the Pope in his temporal capacity responsible for his merely spiritual acts, and deal with him by demands and threats, and by armaments to enforce them? I apprehend that no such extreme measures will be adopted. How, then, are we to deal with a Power over which we can have no control, whose authority is purely spiritual, while the visible signs of its exercise are only to be found in a voluntary obedience which no laws can reach and no Governments can prevent? Your statutes will have no more effect at the Vatican than Papal bulls in Westminster Hall. You cannot restrain the Pope from elaborating his ecclesiastical policy here, and all the lawyers in England would fail in devising prohibitory laws as to spiritual matters which the objects of them could not find means to evade. Cardinal Wiseman has said with truth that England could not complain of being taken by surprise. More than two years ago it was no secret that such measures were in contemplation. They were discussed not only in the press, but in the House of Commons; and on one occasion Lord John Russell made a speech, which was so replete with wisdom and truth, and so exactly applicable to the present occasion and to all that is passing around us, that it deserves the most attentive and general consideration. On August 17, 1848, in a debate on the Diplomatic Relations with Rome Bill, Sir Robert Inglis, after declaring that he had no objection to call Dr. Wiseman a bishop, but objected to call him Archbishop of Westminster, put certain questions with regard to the appointment of archbishops and bishops in this country without the consent of its sovereign, to which the Prime Minister replied in the following terms:--
'I do not know that the Pope has authorised in any way by any authority that he may have the creation of archbishoprics and bishoprics with dioceses in England; but certainly I have not given my consent, nor should I give my consent if I were asked to do so, to any such formation of dioceses. With regard to spiritual authority, the honourable gentleman must see, when he alludes to other States in Europe, that whatever control is to be obtained over the spiritual authority of the Pope can only be obtained by agreement for that end. You must either give certain advantages to the Roman Catholic religion, and obtain from the Pope certain other advantages in return, among which you must stipulate that the Pope shall not create any dioceses in England without the consent of the Queen; or, on the other hand, you must say you will have nothing to do with arrangements of that kind, that you will not consent in any way to give any authority to the Roman Catholic religion in England. _But then you must leave the spiritual authority of the Pope entirely unfettered. You cannot bind the Pope's spiritual influence unless you have some agreement...._ But though you may prevent any spiritual authority being exercised by the Pope by law, yet there is no provision, no law my honourable friend could frame that would deprive the Pope of that influence that is merely exercised over the mind, or that could preclude him from giving advice to those who choose to attend to such advice. It is quite obvious that you cannot by any means or authority prevent the Pope from communicating with the Catholics of this country. You may try to prevent such communication from being open, but I think it would be very foolish if you took any means of great vigour and energy for that purpose. If it is not open, it will be secret. So long as there are Roman Catholics in this country, and so long as they acknowledge the Pope as the head of their Church, you cannot prevent his having spiritual influence over those who belong to that communion.'
This speech, which is equally sensible and true, and the really practical view of the subject, gives a complete answer to the present agitation, and to those who are clamouring for acts of vigour and for restrictive or prohibitory laws. It is fruitless now to search into the animus or the objects of the Pope. He was ill-advised, ignorant of the state of feeling and opinion here; his pretensions were extravagant, and his hierarchy was proclaimed in an ostentatious and offensive manner. But, granting all this, and admitting our indignation to be called for, the question still recurs, 'What is it we can do?' It is easy to determine what we cannot do. We cannot compel the Pope to rescind his brief. We cannot prevent the bishops from exercising their functions within the precise limits of the jurisdictions severally assigned to them. We cannot undo territorial circumscriptions which have no tangible character, and which are nothing but local designations indicative of a defined sphere of spiritual action. We cannot abrogate the spiritual allegiance which the whole Roman Catholic hierarchy bear to the Pope, nor obstruct the free exercise of the Roman Catholic religion, in which freedom, if it is to be perfect, its episcopal constitution must be included. The people of England, to do them justice, in the utmost heat of their resentment, have evinced no disposition to violate the principle of religious liberty, and all suggestions of returning to penal laws against the Roman Catholics have been invariably repudiated. Well, then, if we cannot do any of these things, what is left for us to do? We are told that the Pope may, indeed, make bishops, but that he need not have sent any here, and that he has sent too many; and, again, that, though he might appoint bishops, he could not appoint dioceses over which they were to preside. But the Pope himself can alone judge of the necessary extent of his episcopal establishment, and if bishops are appointed at all, it is indispensable, for the mere avoidance of confusion and disputes, that each prelate should have some local attribution, and this can be nothing else but his diocese--the proper and only name for the circuit of his jurisdiction. In fact, wherever there is a _bishopric_ there must be a diocese. But the Pope has not only created bishops, but has given them titles; and this seems to be considered the head and front of his offence, inasmuch as it is opposed to the spirit, if not to the letter of our laws, and is an audacious assumption of a power belonging only to the sovereign of this realm. I am very wise (as people often are) after the event, and can clearly see that the acts of the Pope, together with the language of some in authority under him, have been very imprudent and mischievous. But I doubt whether I should have been so wise had I been aware of his Holiness' intentions; for, though I should have deprecated his purpose, I certainly should not have anticipated an outburst of popular, or rather of national rage and resentment, which has had no parallel in England since the time of the Popish plot. Nevertheless, if we consider the matter calmly, it must be confessed that the Pope had some grounds for thinking that he might make these appointments without any danger of deeply offending this country. He had already created titular Bishops in various colonies with the concurrence and consent of the Government; and the whole hierarchy of Ireland, with their open assumption of the titles of their sees, had been rather more than winked at, the law which forbids that assumption had been advisedly suffered to be a dead letter. But besides this, in the speech of Lord John Russell, to which I have already alluded, there was an intimation that it would not be expedient to enter into agreements with the Pope for the regulation of the religious arrangements of the Roman Catholics. And as this opinion immediately followed his dictum 'that the spiritual authority of the Pope could only be controlled by agreement, and without any such agreement that it must be left entirely unfettered,' I think the Pope might not unreasonably conclude that the British Government were not inclined to communicate with him at all on these matters, and that they preferred leaving him to administer his ecclesiastical affairs in England according to his own discretion. I have ever been very strongly of opinion that the true policy of England, with her 8,000,000 or 9,000,000 of Roman Catholics, would be to communicate with the Pope as other Powers do, and to concert with the Holy See such measures as the spiritual interests of those Catholics may appear to require. This is the practice of Prussia, and why should it not be that of England? I believed at the time of its introduction that the Diplomatic Relations Bill had this object in view, for it is obvious that we never can have any important secular affairs to discuss with the Vatican, and no need, therefore, of any diplomatic relations for merely political purposes. But that Bill was a sham; its real character was not avowed; and in order to make it appear that no recognition of the Pope's _de facto_ authority, even over Roman Catholics, was intended, and that we were not going to communicate with him in his spiritual capacity, the matter was so mismanaged that the Bill itself has been totally inoperative, and the Pope himself was offended instead of being conciliated by the transaction. The Lords began by a puerile and pedantic denial of his title as 'the Pope' or the 'Sovereign Pontiff,' and would only consent to call him 'Sovereign of the Roman State,' and this was followed up by the foolish clause prohibiting an ecclesiastic from coming here as ambassador. It was as notorious as the sun at noonday, that we had long been in communication with the Pope, upon ecclesiastical affairs, in an underhand and clandestine manner, which was equally undignified and unsatisfactory. All statesmen, particularly those who governed Ireland, were anxious that regular and open relations should be substituted, and such was the desire of the Roman Catholics and of the Pope. Between the niceness of some and the timidity or indifference of others, this project of conciliation and practical utility fell to the ground, and the nation is now convulsed by a paroxysm of wrath and indignation at measures which, if they had been concerted with our Government, and arranged in a spirit of liberality and good will, might have been carried into effect without giving umbrage to the most zealous Protestant or any semblance of invading the prerogative of the Queen. However, all this is gone by. Instead of conciliation and agreement, we are employed in vilifying and caricaturing the Pope, burning him and the Sacred College in effigy, and heaping execrations on the Roman Catholic religion. The great City of London is going up in solemn procession to lay at the foot of the Throne its superfluous protestations of allegiance, its fanciful complaints of injury, and its vague demands for redress. And how is redress to be obtained? After so much has been _said_, what is to be _done_? 'Ay, there's the rub!'
[Sidenote: THE ANTI-PAPAL AGITATION.]
We cannot touch the Pope himself and we cannot unfrock his Bishops. To wage war with the dioceses would be to fight the empty air; to put any restraint on the Roman Catholic Clergy would be religious persecution: this all men eschew. Nothing that I know of remains, nothing at least that is accessible and tangible, but to make a legislative attack on the episcopal titles, either by an extension of the existing law or the enactment of a new one. This would, indeed, be but a lame and impotent conclusion to an agitation which has shaken the isle from its propriety; and before we proceed to break such flies upon the wheels of legislation, it would be advisable to consider what the thing is we are to attack, and what has already been done in reference to the very same matter. People talk of the Pope's making a Bishop of Birmingham as if it was just the same thing as the Queen's making a Bishop of London; forgetting that while the Queen bestows rank, peerage, wealth, authority, and innumerable legal privileges and immunities, the Pope confers nothing but his own delegated authority to a priest to govern spiritually those individuals within a specified and geographical limit who may be willing to submit themselves to his government, and this geographical limit being marked out for an ecclesiastical purpose only, and placed under the supervision of a Bishop, is called according to canonical custom a diocese. But the Pope's Bishop has no revenues, and in the eye of the law no authority, no privilege, no immunity whatever; the law recognises in him no power, he has no power, he has no Court into which he can cite offenders even of his own persuasion. He may be arrested for debt and tried by juries like any other citizen. Bishop of Birmingham he is and will be, in spiritual communion with the Roman Catholics of his diocese; but if Dr. Ullathorne should attempt to assume that title in the ordinary intercourse of society, he would expose himself to merited contempt, and though the Roman Catholics may acknowledge it, no Protestant will.
The Irish Roman Catholic Bishops all sign their Christian and surnames, and so entirely have time and the gradual softening of sectarian acrimony in Ireland moulded apparently irreconcileable rights and claims into harmonious custom, that while even official documents speak of 'the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Dublin,' that same prelate is content to be everywhere received and to call himself 'Archbishop Murray.' All this is the fruit of mutual but tacit concession and a sincere desire for 'peace and goodwill.' Not many years ago Dr. MacHale on some occasion or other subscribed himself 'John Tuam,' and an angry interpellation was addressed to Lord Melbourne (then Premier), to know whether Her Majesty's Government meant to prosecute this violation of the law. Lord Melbourne replied that the Government had considered the matter, and, exercising their own discretion, they did not think it expedient to make an appeal to the law. This prudent decision excited the indignation of the opposite benches, but the Duke of Wellington, with his usual good sense and superiority to party motives, rebuked the zeal of his followers and approved of the forbearance of the Government. What practical mischief resulted from the fact of the Irish prelates taking the titles of their sees? and would it have been better to indict Dr. MacHale, and that he should have been either acquitted by a jury, or convicted in a penalty of 100_l._, and perhaps imprisoned for refusing to pay the fine? If it was not expedient to enforce the old law then, would it be advisable to do so now, or to ask Parliament for fresh laws? Is it fit to invoke that mighty power merely to repel an impertinence?
[Sidenote: THE ANTI-PAPAL AGITATION.]
I well know how perilous it is to attempt to throw cold water on the fire of popular wrath, but no such consideration shall deter me from speaking out what I believe to be the sober truth. I think the character of my countrymen, and their reputation all over the world, and in after ages, much more in jeopardy than their religion. Indeed, it is not without a feeling of shame that I see the pusillanimous terror of Popery which is so often and openly proclaimed. What, when we Protestants form nineteen out of twenty out of the population, with an incalculable superiority of wealth, influence, and learning, a richly endowed Church, all the great seminaries of education, almost the whole of the aristocracy, a vast preponderance of public opinion, and, above all, with reason, truth, and the Bible on our side, are we afraid of the Roman Catholics? and can we not defy the open efforts or the secret machinations of the Romish hierarchy? Let me not, however, be misunderstood. Although I think the prevailing agitation exaggerated, and far more than commensurate with the cause which has excited it, I do not think it unnatural or unreasonable in its origin, and notwithstanding the apology for the Pope, of which the scope of my arguments necessarily presents the appearance, I join in the general condemnation which his proceedings have elicited. They exhibit rashness, want of courtesy to the Crown, and want of consideration for the feelings of the people of England. It is impossible to expect men to distinguish accurately or to reason calmly when the passions are roused; and all the odious or offensive matter scattered through briefs, pastoral letters, and Popish sermons have been confounded together into one cumulative case against the Pope and the Roman Catholic Faith. The flourish of trumpets, the songs of triumph, the vain boasting with which those measures were proclaimed, justify a large amount of disgust and indignation; but the real injury which the honour and the policy of England are required to redress bears in my mind but a small proportion to the false assumptions and ridiculous pretensions which we might well afford to regard with a scornful indifference. I do not, indeed, believe that the Pope intended to insult the Queen, because such conduct would be inconsistent alike with his character and his interest; but he ought to have taken more pains than he did, even for the sake of the English Catholics, to ascertain how his measures would be received, and still more, to be careful that their introduction was divested of every suspicious circumstance and offensive detail. Whatever may have been his motives, he has cast a firebrand into this country, and been the primary cause of a conflagration which time and great prudence and moderation alone can quench. I cannot help looking beyond the present hour, and regarding with horror the prospect of a chronic state of religious discord and sectarian hatred. All men deprecate the renewal of penal laws, but at the same time express a vague and undefined longing to have _something_ done. It is said, that if we do nothing we shall give the Catholics a triumph; but we shall surely give them a much greater triumph if by some piece of peddling and abortive legislation we should have the appearance of being willing without having the power to strike them. I cannot conclude without expressing the deep regret with which I have read denunciations of the Roman Catholic Church, in language which is not that of humility, or charity, or peace; nor do I think that it becomes the members of a Church, which admits its own fallibility, thus dogmatically to condemn the belief of the great majority of the Christian world.
Divines can say but what themselves believe; Strong proofs they have, but not demonstrative; For were all sure, then all sides would agree, And faith itself be lost in certainty. To live uprightly, then, is sure the best: To save ourselves, and not to damn the rest.
I am, Sir, your obedient servant, CAROLUS.
(The 'Times,' December 9, 1850.)
INDEX.
Abbotsford, visit to, iii. 291
Aberdeen, Rt. Hon. Earl of, Foreign Secretary in Sir R. Peel's Administration, ii. 37; and the Spanish quarrels, 73, 74; at the Ch‚teau d'Eu, 200; communications of, with the 'Times,' 200; Scotch Church Patronage Bill, 206; handsome behaviour of, to Lord Palmerston, 406; communications of, with the 'Times' on the Corn Laws, 311; reluctance of, to distrust M. Guizot, iii. 53; negotiations with, on the formation of a Government (1851), 383
Acland, Sir Thomas, motion of, i. 92
Adair, Sir Robert, anecdotes, iii. 212
Adelaide, Queen, at Exeter Hall, ii. 97
Afghanistan, expedition to, i. 241; events in (1842), ii. 85, 89; withdrawal from, 99, 101; recapture of Ghuznee and Cabul and release of the prisoners, 123, 125; indignation in England, 136
Aix-la-Chapelle, visit to, ii. 167
'Alarm,' accident to, at the Derby, ii. 284; wins at Newmarket, 302; wins the Emperor's Cup, 396
Alava, General, i. 241; conversation with, 241, 242
Albert, H.R.H. Prince, betrothal of, to the Queen announced, i. 247; proposed allowance for, 258; naturalisation of, 259; precedence of, 259, 263; refused, 265; Mr. Greville's pamphlet on the Precedence Question, 266, 269; _see_ Appendix, vol. i.; marriage of, 266, 269, 272; precedence conceded by the Duke of Cambridge, 270; name inserted in the Liturgy, 272; gazetted, 273; introduction of, 305; at Oxford, ii. 13; declines an invitation to the Waterloo Dinner, 15; and the King of Hanover, 192; hunting at Belvoir, 216; conversation with the Duke of Bedford, 264; elected Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, iii. 65; installed, 97; at Balmoral, 296; on Lord Palmerston's conduct of foreign affairs, 317
Aldborough, Lady, at Baden Baden, ii. 183
Alexander, Grand Duke (afterwards Emperor Alexander II. of Russia), departure of, i. 215; munificence of, 215
Allen, Mr. John, i. 38; death of, ii. 153; account of, 154
Alliance meeting at Hertford, ii. 415
Althorp, library at, ii. 275
Alvanley, Lord, death of, iii. 304; character of, 305
America, case of McLeod, i. 383; boundary question settled, ii. 101; discovery of a missing map, 102
Ampthill, visit to, i. 250
Anglesey, Marquis of, the, speech of, at the Waterloo Dinner, i. 102-104; wounded at Waterloo, 135; visit to, in North Wales, ii. 16-17; reception of, at Carnarvon, 18
Anti-Papal Bill, the objections of the Peelites to, iii. 385, 387; objections to, 392, 393; debate on, 400
Antwerp, visit to, ii. 287
Arbuthnot, Mr., death of, iii. 362; character of, 363
Arkwright, Mr., death of, ii. 157
Armstrong, Colonel, ii. 94
Ashburton, Lord, mission of, to the United States, ii. 71; signs the Treaty of Washington, 101
'Atlantic,' _fÍte_ on board the, iii. 409
Auchterarder Case, the, ii. 206, 207
Auckland, Lord, great ability of, ii. 63; First Lord of the Admiralty, 405; death of, iii. 254; career of, 255; character of, 255
Augusta, H.R.H. Princess, Royal consent given for the marriage of the,