Wellington and
Peel on principle, but that anything might be wrung from them, if, by
the concession, they supposed that they thereby gave a longer lease of
power to the privileged classes. The army began to discuss the question
of religious disability, and a third of the force was alleged to be
Roman Catholic. The duke came to the conclusion that to avert civil war,
Roman Catholic emancipation must be effected. In his public statements
he greatly exaggerated the dangers of withholding the measure; but as
neither he nor Peel were supposed at heart to be very earnest, although
very illiberal Protestants, the public considered it a new trick to take
popular public measures out of the hands of the liberal party, to pass
them in forms less in harmony with the principles involved in them, than
would have been the case if carried by the Whigs. In February, 1829, the
measure of Roman Catholic emancipation was announced in the speech from
the throne, and was carried through parliament by all the power which
the ministry could command. The high Protestants lost confidence in
the duke, and the Earl of Winchelsea impeached his private honour in
connection with the events which had transpired. On the 31st of March
the duke and the earl met in Battersea Fields to fight a duel. The
duke fired and missed; Lord Winchelsea fired in the air, and the affair
terminated. Throughout the political transactions of his premiership
his grace showed much passion, and a tyranny to his colleagues in office
more suitable to the barrack-room than the cabinet. Peel was the abettor
of all this, and by many deemed the inventor of it. After conceding such
a large measure of religious liberty, his grace seemed to dislike more
inveterately than ever all measures of free-trade and parliamentary
reform. The French revolution of 1830 excited the whole country, and
an agitation for reform of threatening magnitude arose and spread
throughout the land. He had the hardihood to attempt prosecutions of
the press, although by such means the French king had brought about
his dethronement. He defied public feeling, and did so with an air
of peremptory authority and insolence offensive to parliament and the
people. He became one of the most unpopular men in England. Almost
all parties united in deeming him unfit to lead the government of the
country in such a crisis. He was hooted by mobs in the streets; the
windows of his mansion were broken, and had to be defended by ir