1827 — Friday Night, January 5th, 1827, Half-Past One
I am just come from taking my last look at the poor Duke.6 He expired at twenty minutes after nine. Since eleven o’clock last night the physicians never left his room. He never moved, and they repeatedly thought that life was extinct, but it was not till that hour that they found it was all over. The Duke of Sussex and Stephenson were in the next room; Taylor, Torrens and Dighton, Armstrong and I were upstairs. Armstrong and I had been there about half an hour when they came and whispered something to Dighton and called out Taylor. Dighton told Torrens and they went out; immediately after Taylor came up, and told us it was all over and begged we would go downstairs. We went directly into the room. The Duke was sitting exactly as at the DEATH OF THE DUKE OF YORK. moment he died, in his great arm-chair, dressed in his grey dressing-gown, his head inclined against the side of the chair, his hands lying before him, and looking as if he were in a deep and quiet sleep. Not a vestige of pain was perceptible on his countenance, which, except being thinner, was exactly such as I have seen it a hundred times during his life. In fact, he had not suffered at all, and had expired with all the ease and tranquillity which the serenity of his countenance betokened. Nothing about or around him had the semblance of death; it was all like quiet repose, and it was not without a melancholy satisfaction we saw such evident signs of the tranquillity of his last moments.
In about a quarter of an hour Taylor and Halford set off to Windsor to inform the King; the Duke of Sussex went to the Princess Sophia; letters were written to all the Cabinet Ministers, to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and the Speaker of the House of Commons. Orders were given that the great bell of St. Paul’s should toll. The servants were then admitted to see the Duke as he lay. Worley7 was very much affected at the sight, and one woman, the wife of Kendal, cried bitterly, and I saw her stoop down and kiss his hand. The room was then cleared and surrendered to the Lord Chamberlain’s people. Thus did I take my last leave of the poor Duke. I have been the minister and associate of his pleasures and amusements for some years, I have lived in his intimacy and experienced his kindness, and am glad that I was present at this last sad occasion to pay my poor tribute of respect and attachment to his remains.
After the October meetings of 1825 the Duke came to town, not in good health. At the end of November the Duchess of Rutland died, which was a great blow to him, and probably made him worse. A short time after her funeral he went to Belvoir, when the Duke of Rutland took him down into the vault, where he stayed an hour and returned excessively chilled. From that moment he grew worse till the time of the Ascot races. We went to Frogmore two days before the party began, and for those two days he led a quiet life. When the party was assembled he lived as he had been used to do, going to the races, sitting at table, and playing for hours at whist. He slept wretchedly and seldom went to bed, but passed the greater part of the night walking about the room or dozing in his chair. I used to go into his room, which was next to mine, the moment I was out of bed, and generally found him in his dressing gown, looking harassed and ill. He showed me his legs, which were always swelled. Still he went on till the last day of the party, and when we got to town he was so ill that M‘Gregor, who came to him that night, thought him in danger. From that moment the illness was established which has ended in his death. They began by putting him through several courses of mercury, and they sent him to the Greenwoods’ villa at Brompton. Here he continued to receive everybody who called on him, and went out in his carriage every day. They always said that he was getting better. In August he went to Brighton, and soon after his arrival his legs mortified. It was then that Taylor went down to him and told him that he was in great and immediate danger. He received the information with perfect composure. The gangrene, however, was stopped, and he came to town to the Duke of Rutland’s house. The dropsy continued to make rapid progress, and some time in September he was tapped; twenty-two pints of water were drawn. from him. This operation was kept secret, for the Duke did not like that his situation should be known. He recovered from the operation and regained his strength; no more water formed in his body, but there was still water in his system, and a constant discharge from his legs, which occasioned him great pain and made wounds which were always open and extending. These wounds again produced gangrene, but they always contrived to stop its progress, and put the legs in a healing condition. As often, however, as the legs began to heal the water began to rise, and the medicines that were given to expel the water drove it again ILLNESS OF THE DUKE OF YORK. to the legs, through which it made its way, making fresh sores and entailing fresh mortification. In this way he went on, the strength of his constitution still supporting him, till towards the end of December, when the constitution could resist no longer; his appetite totally failed, and with loss of appetite came entire prostration of strength, and in short a complete break-up. From that moment it was obvious that his recovery was impossible, but he continued to struggle till the 5th of January, although he had tasted no solid food whatever for above a fortnight. At all the different periods at which his state was critical it was always made known to him, and he received the intimation with invariable firmness and composure. He said that he enjoyed life but was not afraid to die. But though perfectly acquainted with his own danger he never could bear that other people should be informed of it, and so far from acknowledging it, he always told his friends that he was better, and his language was invariably that of a man who did not doubt of his recovery. He was particularly anxious that nobody should know he had been tapped, and it was not till many weeks after that operation that he talked of it one day to me. Up to the last moment that I saw him (the day week before he died) he told me he was better, and he desired me to tell Montrond, who had called upon him, that he would see him as soon as he was well enough. He held the same language to everybody until the day previous to his death, when he sent for Taylor and Stephenson into his room. He could then hardly speak, but he took hold of Stephenson’s hand, and looking at Taylor, said, ‘I am now dying.’ He tried to articulate something else, but he was unintelligible. About a fortnight before his death, soon after his appetite began to fail, Taylor had to announce to him his danger. He received the intelligence with the same coolness he had before shown, but it was not without difficulty that he admitted the conviction. A few days after he received the Sacrament, which was administered by the Bishop of London, in the presence of Sir H. Halford, Taylor, and the Princess Sophia. He was then very weak, but calm and collected during the ceremony. When it was over he shook hands with the men and kissed the Princess. The King saw him the next day, but he was in a lethargic state nearly the whole time that he was there. For many days before his death the physicians thought that every day must close the scene, but such was the natural strength of his constitution that he evinced a tenacity of life and maintained a struggle which astonished them all, and of which they unanimously declared that their practice had never furnished them with a similar instance. It seems that three years ago, when he was very unwell, M‘Gregor told him that unless he was more prudent he would certainly be afflicted with dropsy. He had been subject to spasms, and in consequence of them was averse to lie down in bed, and to this pernicious habit and that of sitting for many hours together at table, or at cards, they attribute the origin, of the complaint which has terminated so fatally. Had he been a more docile patient, from the amazing vigour of his constitution he might have looked forward to a very long life. His sufferings in the course of his illness have been very great, and almost without cessation. Nothing could exceed the patience and courage with which he endured them; his serenity and good humour were never disturbed, and he never uttered a word or complaint, except occasionally at the length of his confinement. He not only saw all the visitors who chose to call upon him, even those with whom he was not in habits of intimacy, but he transacted the whole of his public business every day, and every paper was laid before him and every detail gone through as if he had been in perfect health. This he continued to within a few days of his death, till his strength was so entirely exhausted that he lay in a state of almost complete insensibility. It is remarkable that from the beginning to the end of his illness I never saw him that he did not tell me that he was a great deal better, and he never wrote to me without assuring me that he was going on as well as possible.
February 12th, 1827
The Duke of York was no sooner dead than the public press began to attack him, and while those FUNERAL OF THE DUKE OF YORK. private virtues were not denied him for which he had always been conspicuous, they enlarged in a strain of severe invective against his careless and expensive habits, his addiction to gambling; and above all they raked up the old story of Mrs. Clark and the investigation of 1809, and published many of his letters and all the disgusting details of that unfortunate affair, and that in a manner calculated to throw discredit on his character. The newspapers, however, soon found they had made a mistake, that this course was not congenial to public feeling, and from that moment their columns have been filled with panegyrics upon his public services and his private virtues. The King ordered that the funeral should be public and magnificent; all the details of the ceremonial were arranged by himself. He showed great feeling about his brother and exceeding kindness in providing for his servants, whom the Duke was himself unable to provide for. He gave 6,000ℓ. to pay immediate expenses and took many of the old servants into his own service. There appeared a few days after the Duke’s death an infamous forgery, purporting to be a letter or declaration written by him a short time before his death (principally upon the subject of the Catholic question), which, however, was disavowed by Taylor, but not till after many thousand copies had been sold. I dare say many people believe still that he was the author of this pamphlet. All his effects either have been or will be sold by auction. The funeral took place a fortnight after his death. Nothing could be managed worse than it was, and except the appearance of the soldiers in the chapel, which was extremely fine, the spectacle was by no means imposing; the cold was intense, and it is only marvellous that more persons did not suffer from it. As it is the Bishop of Lincoln has died of the effects of it; Canning has been dangerously ill, and is still very unwell; and the Dukes of Wellington and Montrose were both very seriously unwell for some days after. The King was very angry when he heard how miserably the ceremony had been performed. I have been this evening to hear Peel move the address of condolence to the King, which Canning would have done if he had been here; and it is a pity he was not, for Peel did it very ill: it was poor and jejune, and undistinguished by eloquence or the appearance of deep feeling. I was greatly disappointed, for I expected to hear a worthier tribute to his merits. Canning was very anxious to have been here to have performed this duty himself. The letters which he wrote to the Royal Family abroad announcing the event of his death were admirable and gave great satisfaction to the King.
February 21st, 1827
Three days ago Lord Liverpool was seized with an apoplectic or paralytic attack. The moment it was known every sort of speculation was afloat as to the probable changes this event would make in the Ministry. It was remarked how little anybody appeared to care about the man; whether this indifference reflects most upon the world or upon him, I do not pretend to say. A report was generally circulated that the Duke of Cumberland was dead, which was believed, but turns out to be untrue.
Old Rundell (of the house of Rundell and Bridge, the great silversmiths and jewellers) died last week, and appointed Robarts one of his executors. Robarts called on me this morning, and told me he had been yesterday to Doctors’ Commons to prove the will. Rundell was eighty years old, and died worth between 1,400,000ℓ. and 1,500,000ℓ., the greater part of which is vested in the funds. He has left the bulk of his property to his great-nephew, a man of the name of Neal, who is residuary legatee and will inherit 900,000ℓ.—this Mr. Neal had taken care of him for the last fourteen years—to a woman who had lived with him many years, and in whose house he died, and to two natural sons by her he only left 5,000ℓ. apiece. The old man began the world without a guinea, became in the course of time partner in that house during its most flourishing period, and by steady gains and continual parsimony amassed this enormous wealth. He never spent anything and lived wretchedly. During the panic he came to Robarts, who was his banker, and offered to place at his disposal any sum he might require. When the executors went to prove the will, they INTERVIEW WITH GEORGE IV. were told at Doctors’ Commons that it was the largest sum that ever had been registered there.
March 13th, 1827
Since the debate on the Catholic question there has been a great expectation that Canning would resign. Many of his friends think he made an imprudent speech that night, and if he had not lashed the Master of the Rolls so severely that he would have got more votes.8 The truth is he was mightily nettled by Dr. Philpots’ pamphlet and at Copley making a speech taken entirely from it. The Master protested that he had no idea of offending Canning, and until he got up had no notion that Canning had taken offence at his speech. The question was lost by accident; several pro-Catholics were suddenly taken ill or arrived too late for the division, and the election petitions went all against them.
March 16th, 1827
On Wednesday at the Council at St. James’s the King desired I would go down to Windsor, that he might speak to me. I went down on Thursday to the Cottage, and, after waiting two hours and a half, was ushered into his bedroom. I found him sitting at a round table near his bed, in a douillette, and in pretty good health and spirits. He talked about his horses and told some old stories, lamented the death of the Duke of York, which he said was a loss to him such as no one could conceive, and that he felt it every instant. He kept me about an hour, was very civil, and then dismissed me.
Canning made an apology to the Master of the Rolls for his severity in the debate on the Catholic question.
March 25th, 1827
When the King heard of Lord Liverpool’s illness he was in great agitation. He sent for Peel in the night, and told him he must see the Duke of Wellington. Peel endeavoured to dissuade him, but in vain. The Duke was sent for, but he refused to go. He sent the King word that he had nothing to say to him, and that it would not be fair to his colleagues that he should see the King at such a moment. Consequently he saw none of his Ministers till he saw Canning, who was taken to the Pavilion in a chair one day. There have been a variety of reports about Lord Liverpool’s successor and a new Administration, as always happens on such occasions.
The King is in very good health and excellent spirits. He had a large party at the Lodge last week, and Canning, the Granvilles, Carlisles, Lievens, are going there next week. Mount Charles told me yesterday that next week he thinks something must be decided, and he told me what I did not know, that the King’s opinions on the Catholic question are just the same as those of the Duke of York, and equally strong. This is the great difficulty which Canning has to get over with him. He does not much like Canning, though C. does everything he can to gratify and please him. Mount Charles told me that his mother (Lady Conyngham) has strong opinions in favour of the Catholics, but that she never talks to the King on the subject, nor indeed upon politics at all.
April 13th, 1827
The King came to town a week ago. From the moment of his arrival every hour produced a fresh report about the Administration; every day the new appointment was expected to be declared, and the Ministers Peel, Lord Bathurst, Duke of Wellington, and Canning were successively designated as the persons chosen to form a Government. He had no sooner arrived than he saw his Ministers seriatim, but nothing could induce him to come to any determination. He wavered and doubted, and to his confidants, with whom he could bluster and talk big, he expressed in no measured terms his detestation of Liberal principles, and especially of Catholic Emancipation. He begged his Ministers to stand by him, and day after day elapsed and nothing was settled. In the meantime London was alive with reports; and the on dit of the day, repeated with every variety of circumstance and with the usual positiveness of entire ignorance, would fill a volume. Time MR. CANNING’S ADMINISTRATION. crept on, and Parliament was to adjourn on the 13th (this day). On the 9th Canning went to the King, and, after a long audience, he came away without anything being settled. On the 10th he went again, and told his Majesty that longer delay was impossible, and that he must come to some determination. On the evening of the 10th we received a note from Lord Bathurst, saying that the King had desired Canning to form an Administration on the principles of that of which Lord Liverpool had been at the head. This was not generally known that evening. Last night it was said that the Duke of Wellington would not remain in the new Cabinet, and we heard that Peel had resigned. To-day everything will probably be known. Canning and his friends say that the King has behaved admirably in this business, and they affect to consider his appointment unconditional and unfettered; but this is by no means the view which the others take of it. The King, however, has acted in such a way that all his Ministers (except those whose interest it now is to laud him to the skies) are disgusted with his doubting, wavering, uncertain conduct, so weak in action and so intemperate in language. It is now supposed that he has been influenced by Knighton in coming to this determination, in which he certainly has acted in a manner quite at variance with his professions and the whole tenor of his language. It must be owned, if this is so, that although Canning has gained his point—has got the power into his hands and is nominally Prime Minister—no man ever took office under more humiliating circumstances or was placed in a more difficult and uncertain situation; indeed, a greater anomaly cannot be imagined. Canning, disliked by the King, opposed by the aristocracy and the nation, and unsupported by the Parliament, is appointed Prime Minister. The King, irresolute and uncertain, is induced to nominate a man whose principles and opinions he fears and dislikes by the advice and influence of his physician. The measure which is of paramount importance Canning cannot carry as he desires and believes to be necessary; he must form a Cabinet full of disunion, and he is doubtful what support he can expect from the old adherents of Government, by whom he is abhorred.
The writ was moved for Canning yesterday by Wynne, ‘he having accepted the office of First Commissioner of the Treasury.’ This morning the Chancellor, Peel, Lord Westmoreland, and the Duke of Wellington resigned. Lord Bathurst immediately wrote to Canning, saying that, finding they had resigned, he could not avoid sending in his resignation also; that it was unnecessary to enter into explanations, which could only tend to widen the breach such a separation must make. Afterwards Lord Melville resigned, although well with Canning and a friend to the Catholics; he said he could not desert the men with whom he had acted for so many years. The Whigs seem greatly elated at the breaking up of this Administration. The Tories evidently think Canning is in a scrape, that he will not be able to form a Government, and that the power will return into their hands. How Canning and his friends feel is not yet known, nor what the King feels at being deserted by half his Cabinet. The opinion prevalent with the Opposition is that Canning has been deserted by his colleagues, who induced him to accept the Government by promising their support and adherence, and that when he had taken the final step they left him to make the arrangements and fill up their places as he could. This, however, is not the case. I saw George Dawson9 this evening, and he assured me that Canning had received ample notice from all these Ministers that they would not hold office under him, and that if he was appointed Prime Minister they should resign. Peel told him this three weeks ago: ‘that he could not, with a due regard to his own character, continue in office under a man whose opinions are so diametrically opposite to his own upon the most important question; that he had no views of personal ambition, but MR. CANNING’S ADMINISTRATION. that as the administration of Ireland was his peculiar province it was impossible they should not come into constant collision upon that subject.’ They had no objection to act with Canning, always considering him as one of the most influential members of the Cabinet, but they could not hold offices under him. He said that he could not imagine how Canning with his knowledge could take such a step, and it is evident that he has no idea of his being able to carry on the Government at all.
April 30th, 1827
From the period of Canning’s acceptance of office up to Thursday night there have been continual negotiations between Canning and the Whigs, and it is not possible to imagine greater curiosity and more intense anxiety than have been exhibited during the interval. The violence and confusion of parties have been extreme—the new Ministers furious with their old colleagues, the ex-Ministers equally indignant with those they left behind them.
May 12th, 1827
It is necessary to go back to the first formation of the Government.10 As soon as Canning had got the King’s commission he began to negotiate, and the Whigs readily enough entered into negotiation. The friends of Ministers resigned one after another, and for some time it seemed very doubtful whether Canning would be able to form a Government at all. His first measure was, however, very judicious—that of appointing the Duke of Clarence Lord High Admiral—nothing served so much to disconcert his opponents. The negotiations went on (through the Duke of Devonshire) up to the end of the Easter recess, when Lord Lansdowne came to town, and after much delay it was announced that the Whigs would support the new Government, but that none of them would take office immediately. The places were all filled up, but the appointments were understood to be only provisional, and the Duke of Portland, Lord Dudley, and Sturges Bourne were considered to hold their offices until Lord Lansdowne, Lord Carlisle, and Tierney should join the Cabinet. With this arrangement Parliament met, and the rage which had been accumulating in the minds of the seceders soon burst forth in a furious attack on this provisional arrangement. The Whigs have nearly in a body joined Government, with the exception of Lord Grey in the House of Lords, who in a speech full of eloquence attacked Canning’s political life and character and announced his intention of remaining neuter. In the meantime it was understood that there was a reason for Lord Lansdowne not joining Government immediately, which was not to be made public till that event took place, and this secret was only imparted to a very few people; it was even concealed from Brougham and the leaders of the party. The secret, however, turns out to be this: Lord Lansdowne insisted upon modelling the Irish Government as he pleased—that is, in putting a Lord-Lieutenant, a Chancellor, and a Secretary there favourable to the Catholic claims, to which the King would not consent. Canning entreated Lord Lansdowne to have patience, to allow time to elapse, during which the King’s scruples might be removed, and promised that every endeavour should be made to reconcile the King to the arrangement Lord Lansdowne desired. After much discussion it was resolved that Lord Lansdowne should support Government, but that he should not take office until this point was settled; and so the matter has remained.
June 3rd, 1827
Soon after writing this Lord Lansdowne came MR. CANNING’S ADMINISTRATION. into the Cabinet, together with Tierney and Lord Carlisle, M‘Donald and Abercromby also taking places. They found so many objections to the unsettled state of the Cabinet, and the provisional arrangements had brought so much odium and ridicule upon the Government, that it was thought necessary to settle this matter without loss of time, but Lord Lansdowne would not consent to take the Home Office except upon the conditions on which he had before insisted. He therefore came into the Cabinet without a place. But it is quite evident that the present state of affairs is far from satisfactory; the Government is not established on a firm or secure basis, and the members of it are not altogether satisfied with each other or themselves. Lord Lansdowne particularly does not feel comfortable where he is, and does not think that he has been well treated by his own friends. It seems that when first overtures were made to him by Canning he called a meeting of his friends at Lansdowne House, at which he declared his own sentiments and the conditions on which he would join the Government. The persons there assembled unanimously agreed with him, but a few days after a meeting was called at Brooks’s which was more numerously attended, and there certain resolutions were agreed upon which were not in conformity with the opinions expressed in Lansdowne House, and these resolutions were communicated to Canning as the sentiments of the great body of the Whigs, but without the same being imparted to Lord Lansdowne, who was then at Bowood (this fact I had last night from Duncannon11 and Hobhouse12). Matters, however, went on quietly enough till the other night, when the Government was beat in the House of Lords upon the clause in the Corn Bill, and this defeat it is obvious has enraged and embarrassed them to the greatest degree.13 Duncannon, who is entirely in the confidence of the moderate Whig party, says that it is impossible the thing can go on in this way; three Lords in the King’s household (Errol, Macclesfield, and Delawarr) voted against the Bill, and if they are not dismissed it will be such a proof of the feebleness of Government as will disgust all the Whigs and make their support very lukewarm.14 Burdett, who was more active and zealous than anybody in bringing about the Coalition, is very much disgusted already, and there appears altogether such a want of confidence and unanimity among them as must lead to the dissolution of the Government unless Canning can by some vigorous measures establish his credit and convince the world of his strength. In Ireland the Chancellor15 has refused to put the Great Seal to the appointment of Doherty as Solicitor-General. It is supposed that he will take this occasion to resign, and it will then be seen what part the King will take in the nomination of his successor. The King sees numbers of people, talks incessantly, and does nothing. Canning was with him yesterday evening, and the result of his audience will be very interesting, because it will appear whether he has insisted upon, and the King consented to, the dismissal of the refractory Lords, as well as what he will do about the Irish Chancellor. Government are indignant with the Duke of Wellington and the other ex-Ministers for opposing the Corn Bill, which they had been themselves (when in office) instrumental in framing, as well as for the use which the Duke made of Huskisson’s letter.
June 17th, 1827
I was at the Royal Lodge for one night last THE ROYAL LODGE. Wednesday; about thirty people sat down to dinner, and the company was changed nearly every day. It is a delightful place to live in, but the rooms are too low and too small for very large parties. Nothing can exceed the luxury of the internal arrangements; the King was very well and in excellent spirits, but very weak in his knees and could not walk without difficulty. The evening passed off tolerably, owing to the Tyrolese, whom Esterhazy brought down to amuse the King, and he was so pleased with them that he made them sing and dance before him the whole evening; the women kissed his face and the men his hand, and he talked to them in German. Though this evening went off well enough, it is clear that nothing would be more insupportable than to live at this Court; the dulness must be excessive, and the people who compose his habitual society are the most insipid and uninteresting that can be found. As for Lady Conyngham, she looks bored to death, and she never speaks, never appears to have one word to say to the King, who, however, talks himself without ceasing. Canning came the day I went away, and was very well received by his Majesty; he looked dreadfully ill. The only thing which interested me was the account I heard from Francis Conyngham about Knighton. He is seldom there, and when he comes scarcely stays above a night or two. But he governs everything about the house, and cannot endure anybody who is likely to dispute his empire. The King certainly does not like him, is always happier when he is away, and never presses him to stay or to return. When he is there he has constant access to the King at all times and whenever he pleases. He is on bad terms with Mount Charles, he bullies Lord Conyngham, and he is barely civil to Lady C.; he knows that Mount Charles is independent of him, and that the King likes him and admits him continually and familiarly to his presence, and of this it seems that he is jealous. I was more struck with one word which dropped from him than with all he told me of Sir W. Knighton. While the Tyrolese were dancing and singing, and there was a sort of gay uproar going on, with which the King was greatly delighted, he said, ‘I would give ten guineas to see Knighton walk into the room now,’ as if it were some master who was absent, and who should suddenly return and find his family and servants merrymaking in his absence; it indicates a strange sort of power possessed by him.
The King was very civil to the Duke of Dorset, and repeatedly told him that what had passed would make no difference in their private friendship. In the meantime the Corn Bill has been thrown out, and I think political animosities are full as strong as ever, though they have taken rather a sulky than a violent tone. I had a long conversation with Duncannon yesterday, who is fully possessed of the sentiments of all the Whigs, and by what he says it is clear that they are extremely dissatisfied; they want Canning to display his power by some signal act of authority, and to show that he is really supported cordially by the King. The opposite party are persuaded that the King is secretly inclined to them and averse to his present Government, and this opinion obtains more or less with the public in consequence of the impunity with which Canning has been braved by the Chancellor in Ireland. The appointment of Doherty as Solicitor-General has never yet passed the Great Seal, and Lord Manners refuses to sanction it; he has likewise refused to put Sir Patrick Bellew (a Catholic) in the Commission of the Peace, though he is a respectable man and he has been strongly pressed to do it even by Protestants. This refusal so disgusted Duncannon that he was very near withdrawing his name from the Commission, and if he had his example would have been followed by many others, but Lord Spencer dissuaded him from doing so. Lord Grey is in such a state of irritation that he will hardly speak to any of his old friends, and he declares that he will never set his foot in Brooks’s again. All this is the more extraordinary, and the vivacity of his temper the more unaccountable, because he has constantly declined taking an active part in politics when invited to do so for a long time past; and whenever Duncannon has asked his advice or consulted his opinions or wishes, he has invariably referred him to Lord Lansdowne as HOSTILITY OF LORD GREY. the person whom his friends were to look upon as their leader, asserting that he had withdrawn himself from public life and would have no more concern with politics. More than this, when first overtures were made by Canning to the Whigs, it was the unanimous opinion of all those who have since joined the Government that Lord Lansdowne and his friends could not join an Administration of which Peel was to be a member (for at that time the resignation of Peel was not contemplated as a probable event), and this opinion was warmly combated by Lord Grey, who contended that there was no reason why they should not coalesce with Canning and Peel. What induced him to alter his opinion so decidedly and to become so bitter an enemy to the present arrangements does not appear, unless it is to be attributed to a feeling of pique and resentment at not having been more consulted, or that overtures were not made to himself. The pretext he took for declaring himself was the appointment of Copley to be Chancellor, when he said that it was impossible to support a Government which had made such an appointment.
July 5th, 1827
The session is over, and has been short but violent enough. There is apparently a majority against the Ministry in the House of Lords, though they seem safe in the House of Commons. All depends upon Canning’s prudence and firmness during the recess. As to the King, he seems desirous of living a quiet life and disposing of all patronage; public measures and public men are equally indifferent to him. The Duke of Wellington, who knows him well, says he does not care a farthing about the Catholic question, but he does not like to depart from the example of his father and the Duke of York, to which they owed so much of their popularity. His conduct is entirely influenced by selfish considerations, and he neither knows nor cares what measures the exigencies of the country demand. The present state of parties is so extraordinary that it cannot last, and it remains to be seen whether Lord Grey and the other Whigs will reunite themselves to the main body and support Canning’s Government, or whether they will join with the Tories in their efforts to overturn it. Lord Grey’s temper, irritated by the attacks which have been made on him, seems likely to urge him to the latter alternative.
July 25th, 1827
Canning is gone to Chiswick, where he has had the lumbago, and could not go to the Council last week. He is very unwell, and in a very precarious state, I think. I was at the Council last Monday week; it was held for the appointment of Lords Lansdowne and Carlisle, Lord Lansdowne having consented to take the Home Office, and Lord Carlisle the Privy Seal; the only Cabinet Ministers present were the four who changed places. It was the first time the King had given Lord Lansdowne an audience, but I believe he was very civil to him. The King gave him an account of the Duke of Buckingham’s visit to him (from Dropmore), the result of which was that he sent his proxy to Lord Goderich, but not with a good grace.
The Duke of Wellington has been to the Lodge, and great is the speculation thereupon.16 It is fiercely debated whether he went by invitation or not, and how long he stayed. He was only with the King twenty minutes, for so Prince Leopold, who was there, told Lambton, who told me. I don’t know if he was invited or no. The King has taken from Prince Leopold the plate that was given, or, as they now say, lent to him, on his marriage. The Chamberlain sent to Sir E. Gardiner for it in the Prince’s absence, and he refused to give it up without his Royal Highness’s orders, but the Prince, as soon as he heard of it, ordered it to be sent to the Chamberlain.
The Irish Chancellor has given way about Doherty’s appointment, and put the Great Seal to it before his own resignation. He did it with a good grace, Lord Lansdowne told me.
We went all over the Castle the other day; his Majesty will not let anybody see it now. I don’t think enough is effected for the enormous sums expended, though it is a fine DEATH OF CANNING. and will be a good house; still, how far (as a palace) from Versailles, St. Cloud, and the other palaces in France! The external terrace has spoilt the old one, and is altogether a frightful excrescence, and should never have been made.
Notes
6 [His Royal Highness the Duke of York, second son of King George III., died on the 5th of January, 1827.]
7 [Worley was the Duke’s stud-groom.]
8 [Sir John Copley was then Master of the Rolls, but this occurrence did not prevent Canning from making him Lord Chancellor on the 2nd of May following, when he was raised to the peerage with the title of Baron Lyndhurst.]
9 The Right Hon. George Robert Dawson was Secretary of the Treasury from 1828 to 1830, and was made a Privy Councillor on resigning that office. He married in 1816 Mary, the eldest daughter of the first Sir Robert Peel, and was consequently the brother-in-law of Mr. Peel, the Minister.
10 [The Cabinet formed by Mr. Canning was thus constituted:—
Mr. Canning, First Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer.
Lord Lyndhurst, Lord High Chancellor.
Earl of Harrowby, Lord President of the Council.
Duke of Portland, Lord Privy Seal, and afterwards the Earl of Carlisle.
Lord Dudley, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.
Lord Goderich, Secretary of State for Colonial Affairs and War.
Mr. Sturges Bourne, Secretary of State for the Home Department (this office was shortly afterwards transferred to the Marquis of Lansdowne)
Mr. Huskisson, President of the Board of Trade.
Mr. Wynn, President of the Board of Control.
Lord Bexley, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.
Mr. Tierney, Master of the Mint.
The Duke of Clarence was named Lord High Admiral.
The Office of Commander-in-Chief remained vacant during the Administration of Mr. Canning. This Administration lasted ninety-eight days, until the death of Mr. Canning.]
11 [John William, Viscount Duncannon, afterwards fourth Earl of Bessborough.]
12 [Mr. John Cam Hobhouse, M.P. for Westminster, afterwards Sir John C. Hobhouse, Bart., raised to the peerage in 1851 by the title of Baron Broughton de Giffard.]
13 [It was with reference to this defeat that Canning said soon afterwards in the House of Commons that ‘the Duke of Wellington had been made the instrument of others for their own particular views,’ and he pledged himself to bring in another Corn Bill in the following session. But these were almost the last words uttered by Canning in Parliament.]
14 [Lord Delawarr resigned of his own accord, Lord Errol was obliged to resign, and Lord Macclesfield came over and voted with Government on the second reading of the Corn Bill.]
15 [Lord Manners was still Lord Chancellor of Ireland, as he had been since 1807. Mr. Doherty was made Solicitor-General for Ireland on the 18th of June.]
16 [The causes and consequences of this visit, which was by invitation from the King, are related in the Duke of Wellington’s ‘Correspondence,’ New Series, vol. iv. p. 63 et seq.]