1827), the appointment of Lord Goderich to the premiership, and the dissolution of his feeble and disjointed administration (January, 1828), followed in rapid succession; and "to the surprise of some, the amusement of many, and the satisfaction of more," Wellington became prime minister of England. The Canningites were allowed to retain their places in the new cabinet; but from the first they failed to act cordially with the premier. Causes of dissatisfaction and alienation soon arose. A difference respecting the disfranchisement of East Retford led to the somewhat reluctant resignation of Mr. Huskisson, and with him retired Lords Dudley and Palmerston, William Lamb (afterwards Lord Melbourne), and Charles Grant. The constitution of the cabinet, thus remodelled and purged of its liberal elements, gave unbounded satisfaction to the tory party throughout the three kingdoms; but its policy was speedily loaded with execrations and the most virulent abuse. Shortly before the retirement of the Canningites from the ministry. Lord John Russell had carried a bill for the repeal of the Test and Corporation acts through the house of commons, by a majority of forty-four, in the face of the opposition of the government. The premier yielded with a good grace to the wishes of the commons, and taking up the bill, carried it through the house of lords, in spite of the furious resistance of Lord Eldon and the ultra-tories. This, however, was only the first step towards the complete removal of religions disabilities. The great question of Roman catholic emancipation had now for a quarter of a century occupied the attention of the legislature. Its supporters, at first a small and comparatively powerless minority, had now grown to a majority in the commons, and numbered in their ranks no small amount of the talent and influence which adorned the upper house. It was no longer considered as a question of abstract principle and policy, but of national peace and security. Ireland was almost in a state of anarchy—"there was no law but that of the priests, and no rule but that of O'Connell." The return of the great agitator to parliament for Clare, brought matters to a crisis, and catholic emancipation was now demanded "as the sole means of satisfying a people not otherwise governable, and bringing one-third of the empire into harmony with the rest." It was upon these grounds—the incurable anarchy of Ireland, the interminable division of cabinets, the destruction of imperial councils, and the utter impossibility of maintaining such a state of affairs—that the duke and Sir Robert Peel at length resolved to yield to the clamorous demands of the Roman catholics. The premier had a clear perception of the difficulties to be encountered, and of the sacrifices which must be made in thus surrendering the citadel of "protestant ascendancy;" but having made up his mind that this measure was necessary for the peace and welfare of the country, he disregarded all personal considerations, and carried it through resolutely and characteristically. He resolved "that there should be no compromise, insufficiency, or hesitation about the act itself. As concession was to be made, it should be made fully and freely, so as to satisfy all, and leave no rankling vestiges behind." Like a skilful tactician, in peace as in war, he kept his designs a secret till the time came for action, so that his adversaries had no opportunity of agitating beforehand against his plans. His policy was announced in the speech from the throne on the 5th of February, 1829, and so vigorously was the measure pressed that, in spite of the most determined opposition, the relief bill passed both houses by a large majority, and in little more than a month became the law of the land. No other statesman in the kingdom could have accomplished such a feat. But a high price was exacted from the duke for this remarkable exploit. A storm of invective immediately burst upon him, which for violence has seldom been equalled. His sacrifice of protestantism and consistency, and his violation of the old political traditions of government and party, lost him the favour both of the upper and middle classes. "Every protestant newspaper in the three kingdoms covered the premier and his colleagues with abuse; every protestant speaker in townhall or tavern vilified them; and the very pulpits were in many instances converted into tribunes from which to denounce them and their treason." One of the leaders of the anticatholic party—the young earl of Winchelsea—went so far as to publish a violent attack on the personal character of the duke of Wellington, imputing to him premeditated treachery to the protestant party, and treason against the constitution. The duke having vainly tried to induce the earl to retract his charges, sent him a challenge—a proceeding which met with almost universal condemnation. The combatants met in Battersea Fields on the 21st of March, and fortunately separated without injury to either. Lord Winchelsea, after receiving the duke's shot, fired in the air, and then tendered the apology which he ought to have made at the outset.
The originally "strong ministry" of the duke was greatly weakened by his victory over the principles and prejudices of his party, and, though he seems to have been quite unaware of the fact, was already tottering to its fall. His opponents were not conciliated, while his old supporters had become perfectly rabid in their indignation; Ireland was more unmanageable than ever; O'Connell and his associates were clamouring for new concessions; there was suffering and consequent discontent in the manufacturing districts of England; incendiarism commenced and spread rapidly in the agricultural counties; and the cry for parliamentary reform was raised. The death of George IV., in June, 1830, removed one of the props of the tory party, and the new French revolution, which broke out in July, gave a shock to existing governments throughout Europe, and was felt with peculiar force in Britain. A few weeks later parliament was dissolved, and the elections in the counties and large towns went decidedly against the government. It had become evident to most thinking men, that the ardent desire which was now felt by the great body of the people for the reform of the representative system of the country, could no longer be trifled with or resisted. But strange to say, the duke, usually so far-seeing and sagacious, utterly failed to discern the signs of the times, and presented an attitude of unyielding and peremptory resistance to the public feeling. He lost no time in making his opinions known. At the very opening of the new parliament he delivered his memorable declaration—"That the country already possessed a legislature which answered all the good purposes of legislation; that the system of representation possessed the full and entire confidence of the country; and that he was not only not prepared to bring forward any measure of reform, but would resist such measures when proposed by others, as long as he held any station in the government of the country." This injudicious and ill-timed declaration at once decided the fate of the government and of the tory party, and the reform of the representative system of the country became an immediate certainty. On the 15th of November the ministry was left in a minority of twenty-nine, on the question of the civil list, by a combination of whigs and tories, and the duke of Wellington and his colleagues lost no time in placing their resignations in the hands of the king.
The events connected with the appointment of Earl Grey's ministry, and the protracted and desperate contest for reform, have already been related. (See Grey, Earl; Russell, Earl; and Spencer, Earl.) Suffice it, therefore, to say, that the duke fought a losing battle against overwhelming odds, with the utmost gallantry and perseverance. But success was from the first impossible; and when the contest became clearly hopeless, he exerted his influence with the tory lords to induce them to retire from the house until the reform bill had passed, and thus take away the necessity and the pretext for a large creation of new peers. Throughout the whole of this memorable struggle, while the country trembled on the brink of a revolution, the tide of public feeling ran strongly against the duke. The most absurd rumours were circulated respecting his motives and intentions, and it is not without shame that we record that the conqueror of Waterloo was hooted through the city of London by a furious mob on the 18th of June, and that he found it necessary to protect the windows of his residence, against his own countrymen, by casings of iron.
As soon as the excitement connected with the reform fever had subsided, the duke, though a good deal depressed by the result, and filled with anxious forebodings respecting the future, set himself at once to reconstruct the shattered party which he had led, to reanimate their drooping spirits, and to offer a steady resistance to the farther inroads threatened by the whigs and radicals on the constitution. The tide of popular feeling towards him gradually turned, and though he did not conceal his dissatisfaction both with the domestic and foreign policy of the Grey administration, and expressed opinions which were disliked by a large portion of the community, he never again for a moment lost his place in the affections of the English people. His return to office, however, was probably as little expected by himself as
