which is to appear in November, it would be very serviceable to the publisher. It is only a reprint of that part of the ‘Political Philosophy,’ and lays down true and sound principles–at this time necessary to be well learnt.
_To Lord Brougham_
_62 Rutland Gate, October 2nd_.–I am extremely obliged to you for the copy of your Glasgow address, which in some degree consoles me for not having heard it, and for having lost the pleasure of seeing you this year at Brougham. Nothing can be more felicitous than some of the illustrations you have introduced, and the occasion of a mere scientific meeting has been turned to the best political purpose. No doubt in that region the absence of party gives a broader and a nobler aim to the exertions of your society, and it is gratifying to see how heartily men meet to combine, in these days, without party badges. But if this opinion were to be expressed by the ‘Edinburgh Review,’ we should be told by John Russell & Co. that we have no business to wear blue and buff, which is the final cause of reviews and editors.
The political article which I have just sent to the press is on the United States under Mr. Buchanan–a great show-up of that scandalous scene of corruption, slave-trading, and anarchy. I am afraid it is now too late to introduce an allusion to your discourse. As to home politics, there is little to be said; as to Continental affairs, there is too much. The mountebanks in Southern Italy have now very nearly upset the coach, and the question is whether the Sardinians or the French are to march to Naples. I hope it will be the former, but it is quite clear Louis Napoleon means to support the Pope in Rome.
Lord Clarendon is just come back from Wiesbaden. We start on Saturday for Madrid, _via_ Valencia, and shall be about six weeks in Spain and Portugal.
And so they started–Reeve, his wife, and daughter–Reeve, as usual, noting merely the stages of the tour, trusting to his wife to fill in the details. Extracts from Mrs. Reeve’s Journal are here given in square brackets.
_Journal_
_October 8th_.–We started for Spain by Paris, Lyons, and Marseilles. Sailed in the ‘Céphise’ for Valencia on the 10th.
_11th_.–[Hopie and I came on deck soon after eight. We spent the day lying down, and only caught glimpses of the coast of Spain when a roll of the ‘Céphise’ brought land and sea above the line of her sides.]
_12th_.–[About 4 A.M. the wind changed, and we were able to use sail, which steadied the vessel, besides assisting her progress. I went on deck at nine, found the Mediterranean more like my ‘Caire’ experience, and was told that we should probably be at Grao by twelve…. Henry has set up an acquaintance with a Mexican who knows a little of England and English, and is going to pass the winter at Valencia. About one o’clock we were in the harbour of Grao. We landed in boats, and found ourselves surrounded by a crowd of clamorous porters and _tartana_ drivers–one of the scenes characteristic of landing in a country where police regulations do not exist ensued. However, Henry’s Mexican acquaintance came to his rescue, and two courteous Gauls to mine. They were taking the French despatches into Valencia, and offered Hopie and me seats in their _tartana_–a covered cart not on springs, which is the cab of the country. We joyfully accepted, leaving Henry to struggle through custom-house and other difficulties as best he could. The drive (into Valencia) is about two miles, part shaded by an avenue and carefully watered by men stationed at intervals, who ladled the water in buckets out of the runlets on each side of the road. We took up our quarters at the Fonda de Paris, and congratulated each other on having arrived in Spain.]
_13th_.–[We went out at eight o’clock. Our first point was the market, which we found in full activity. Such supplies of fruit and vegetables can only be found in a city surrounded by leagues of _huerta_…. We went to the _plateria_, but found the shops poor, and the articles displayed were coarse and ill-wrought. We visited the churches of St. Martin, St. John, and the cathedral, and ascended the tower _del Miguelete_. The churches are so dark that it is quite impossible to distinguish the pictures, much less to judge of their beauty. The panorama from the tower is most beautiful: the city and plain of Valencia, the Mediterranean and the encircling mountains, the fertile _huerta_, and the glorious sky of deepest blue above….
Placards of a bull-fight on the morrow caught our eyes; and Hopie and I, taking the bull by the horns, declared our intention of going to it, and suggested that places should be taken. After a very feeble resistance, Henry consented, and our _valet-de-place_ was directed to ascertain the price of a box.]
_14th_.–[The price asked for a box being too high, we took reserved seats, and at two o’clock started on foot…. The Plaza de Toros at Valencia is a new building, only completed this year; it holds twenty thousand persons, and is the largest in Spain…. ‘El Tato’ is the second _matador_ of Spain: he is a well-looking and remarkably well-grown young man, and a well-grown figure is set off to great advantage by the dress. The horses used are only fit for the knacker’s yard; they are contracted for at about six pounds each; on this occasion thirteen or fourteen were killed. As regards the horses, it is a cruel and disgusting sight; but as between the bull and the _matador_, the display of courage, eye and presence of mind, as well as of skill and agility, is most interesting and exciting.] We saw ‘El Tato’ kill six bulls…. [At dinner our conversation turned on the sight of the day. ‘Tableau de moeurs espagnoles,’ said a Frenchman, raising his shoulders. ‘In Peru, where I have seen many bull-fights,’ he went on, ‘they use high-spirited and valuable horses, and the _picador_ would be for ever disgraced if he allowed the bull to touch his horse.’]
_15th_. [From Valencia to Madrid is 308 miles; the time from 4 P.M. to 6.20 A.M., and our train was pretty punctual.]
_16th_.–Saw Isabella and her Court enter Madrid. She was shot at [by a foolish, half-witted lad, who did not know how to load his pistol, and had no motive for the crime, or rather attempt]. Delighted with the gallery. [There are a few seats and no visitors; and the wisest thing travellers can do, and by far the pleasantest, is to spend all the hours of all the days they are in Madrid that the gallery is open in contemplating its treasures.]
_17th_.–[Immediately after breakfast, Hopie and I went to the Museum. Henry joined us presently, and we remained till four o’clock.]
_18th, Thursday_.–[We had intended to make the Toledo excursion to-day, but an undoubted attack of gout confines Henry to the sofa. Hopie and I walked before breakfast to the Church of the Atocha, where we were shown … in a wardrobe in the vestry, the crimson velvet robe which Isabella had on when the Curé Merino stabbed her. [Footnote: On her way to the church, February 2nd, 1852. The priest, a Franciscan, was garotted in due course.] It has the stain of blood on the lining; the massive embroidery in gold saved her life by turning aside the knife…. After breakfast we took a walk through the unfashionable parts of the town: narrow streets, noisy and crowded, where open stores with bright-coloured scarfs and petticoats collected round them men in the peasant dress–short jackets, breeches, and gaiters partly open. These were picturesque, but the streets and houses were uninteresting enough.
There can be no doubt that Madrid is the least interesting capital in Europe, and that it is only worth the traveller’s while to go there for the sake of the pictures…. It is settled that we leave Madrid on Saturday evening, and Henry has therefore consented to our going to Toledo tomorrow without him.]
_19th_,–[Excursion to Toledo, fifty-six miles by rail.]
_20th, Saturday_.–[After dinner started for Granada, where, after thirty-six hours (rail and diligence), we arrived on Monday morning.]
_27th, Saturday_.–[At 6 P.M. we stow ourselves in the interior of the diligence, and pound along the dusty road towards Santa Fé. It is dusk before we get there, and dark after.]
_28th, Sunday_.–[From Granada to Malaga is seventy-six miles. Guards are not only stationed along the road, but two or three are taken on the diligence. The roads were not good; we seemed to be crossing a series of sierras, and when day dawned, after a fresh, almost cold night, we found ourselves amid ghaut-like hills, and wondered when the topmost point would be gained and the descent to Malaga begun. I think it is at Fuente de la Reina that the magnificent view of the Mediterranean, the port and city of Malaga, and the long perspective of zigzags down spurs of mountains is seen. Neither the French nor English Handbook speaks of this view with the enthusiasm it deserves. It is far finer than the view on the heights looking down on Trieste and the Adriatic…. We entered Malaga about 10 A.M.; the descent had taken about two hours.]
_29th_.–[Very early it was announced that an unexpected boat had come in, and was going on to Cadiz…. At 2 P.M. we went on board… but she did not steam till six. We should have been very irate at the delay but for the remarkably good dinner they gave us…. We made a détour and went very slow at starting, to avoid a vessel sunk in the harbour, on which a provisional pharo is placed. This vessel, the ‘Genova,’ had on board shells and powder for the Morocco war, when it was discovered that spontaneous combustion had broken out in the coal–a defect of Spanish coal–and, fearing she would not only blow up herself but also the city of Malaga, they determined to sink her; and, after a deal of bad practice by the guns of fort and fleet, she went under water, and there she has been eight months.]
_30th_.–[Cadiz. On the 31st crossed over to Puerto Santa Maria; and on November 1st to Seville by rail.]
_November 2nd_.–[Henry has again a threatening of gout, and must have recourse to rest and remedial measures. He sent us out to buy the works of ‘Fernan Caballero;’ but only one volume was to be had, and no explanation was given us of the strange fact that the writings of the most popular novelist in Spain are not to be obtained in the capital of Andalusia, where she lives, and whence all her characters and scenery are taken. No satisfactory map or guide-book of Seville could be found. I took a catalogue of the books that the shop contained back to Henry. They were chiefly of a religious character. Hopie and I took an exploring walk as far as the Plaza and Church of San Lorenzo, stopping now and then to peep into the cool _patios_ filled with flowers, and a murmuring fountain often in the middle, which you see through the corridor, sometimes with a door of iron trellis, sometimes open. All the windows of the basement have iron gratings and wooden shutters; and the courting and sweethearting is carried on with the lady inside and the lover outside the railing. Not that we saw anything of the kind as it takes place of an evening; but the construction of the houses explains the descriptions as given in these charming tales of ‘Fernan Caballero.’]
_3rd_.–[Hopie and I set out to ‘do churches’… After breakfast to the Museum…. We then joined Henry, who was better, and had been to call at the Palace, and drove to Alfarache, about four miles’ distance.]
_4th_.–[In the afternoon to Cordova (eighty-one miles), returning to Seville on the evening of the 5th.]
_6th_.–[A decidedly grey day, unfortunately for our plans of picture-seeing. We did a little shopping… and then went to the Museum; but, alas! there was not more light than you would have in Trafalgar Square; and those Murillos at a distance from the window were scarcely visible. We were so vexed on Henry’s account. We spent the afternoon in writing letters, bathing our faces with milk, and hoping the mosquito bites, which have driven us well-nigh distracted, will be less conspicuous to-morrow, when we are to spend the morning at the Palace, and be presented to the Infanta.]
_7th_.–[Nine o’clock was the hour named by the Duke, and a few minutes after we were at the Palace of San Telmo (in bonnets and our tidiest dresses). We were shown into a room on the ground floor, and in a few seconds the Duc de Montpensier [Footnote: For the circumstances of the Duc de Montpensier’s marriage, see _ante_, vol. i. p. 181.] came in attended by an A.D.C. He received us very graciously, asked if we would drive or walk round the grounds, and said he thought we had better see the gardens first, and then the house and pictures…. Our promenade, with an occasional rest, took nearly two hours; and then, returning to the Palace, H.R.H. showed us the state rooms and the pictures, many of great beauty and merit, all very interesting; and then, suggesting we should like to take off our bonnets, desired the A.D.C. to show us rooms…. A servant waiting outside the door showed us into a drawing-room upstairs, where we found two ladies of the Infanta’s suite, and an old marquis, whose gold key showed he was the chamberlain. In a few minutes the double doors of a larger room were thrown open, and ‘los Duques’ and the four Infantas, their daughters, came in…. When the _dejeuner dinatoire_ was announced, the Duke told Henry to offer his arm to the Duchess, then he advanced towards me, the chamberlain took Hopie, the children and the suite followed. We were eighteen at table. … Servants stood behind us with paper flappers, whisking away the flies, who swarmed round the sweet dishes on the table; and H.R.H. complaining of _les mouches_, I ventured to complain of _les moustiques_. He smiled, and said, ‘I noticed that you had been victimised.’ Breakfast was very gay and agreeable; the Duke has the family talent for conversation, and the Duchess is very amiable, and of course speaks French. She wore a high, plain silk dress of the prevailing colour, and a black chenille net. The Infantas had black silk skirts with a broad piece of black velvet at the bottom, and white piqué shirts. We left the table in the same order as before, and, after a few minutes in the salon, the Duke took Henry into his private room. The Duchess requested us to be seated, and asked us questions about our tour, &c…. and then, rising, she said Adieu, and left the room. The Duke took us to the large library on the ground floor, to show us the albums and other things of interest…. There was an interesting portrait of an elderly lady in a black dress and mantilla, which H.R.H. pointed out as being that of the lady who writes under the name of ‘Fernan Caballero;’ and on Henry’s mentioning that we had tried in vain to purchase her novels, he desired the librarian to see whether there were duplicate copies, and, on hearing there were, gave us a set, as well as a coloured lithograph of the Palace and photographs of the Duchess, himself, and the princesses…. It was altogether a most interesting and agreeable morning, and we came away charmed with the courtesy and kindness of ‘los Duques.’]
_9th_.–Back to Cadiz; very stormy voyage to Lisbon. Home to Southampton, November 22nd.
_From Lord Clarendon_
_The Grove, December 6th_.–I was glad to get your letter, as I thought you must be due about this time, and I had not heard of your arrival. I can imagine no change for the worse equal to that of coming from the blue sky and thermometer of Andalusia to the fogs and hydrometer of London, and your impaired respiratory organs must make that change peculiarly pleasant.
I am very glad your impressions of Spain are the same as Granville’s. He raves of the things he has seen, and of the good hotels and general civility; and says he tasted no garlic since he dined at the Maison Dorée at Paris. Spain must indeed be changed since my time!
We returned from Ashridge [Footnote: The seat of Lord Brownlow.] this afternoon, and are off again next week. Paterfamilias is obliged to drink the cup of gaiety to the dregs, which is almost worse than being in office.
Pray remember us very kindly to Mrs. Reeve. As soon as we are free agents, we shall hope for the pleasure of seeing you here.
_To Lord Brougham_
_C. O., December 10th_. I have not the slightest intention of plunging at present into the turbid waters of Indian finance, still less of engaging in the personal controversy of Trevelyan’s merits or grievances…. I am not sure that his view of extensive reduction is not, in reality, more rational and possible than Wilson’s view of extensive taxation. Probably, however, both will be needed before we have done. But I suspend my judgement on the question, and I shall not venture to discuss it in the ‘Review’ at present.
We returned from Spain and Portugal a few days after you had the kindness to call in Rutland Gate. I proceeded immediately to call on you in Grafton Street, but you had already gone north. Since then I have been unceasingly occupied at the Judicial Committee. Our journey was very successful and agreeable. We coasted round the whole peninsula, and went up to Madrid, Grenada, Seville, Cordova, &c.
The changes taking place in France are (if sincere) most remarkable. My friends think that one of L. N.’s objects is to have a debate on his foreign policy and his relations with Italy, which–as he well knows–will be extremely adverse to the Italian cause, and afford him a pretext for abandoning Victor Emanuel. There is some idea that when Francis II. evacuates Gaëta, he will surrender it, not to Victor Emanuel, but to France. I expect this affair in Southern Italy to end by a Muratist demonstration; in other words, the Neapolitans will place themselves under the protection of France to escape from the Piedmontese…. Thank God, your namesake and my friend, Henry Brougham Loch,[Footnote: Now Lord Loch, then secretary to Lord Elgin, in China. He and Harry Parkes had been treacherously seized by the Chinese on September 18th, and kept in vilest durance and imminent danger of being put to death till October 8th, when, after the capture of the Summer Palace, both the prisoners were released.] is safe. We have been very uneasy about him, and not without cause. The China war is a slough of despond: the further we advance the more we shall flounder, until we are half ruined by our successes.
_62 Rutland Gate, December 24th_.–I have shut myself up for some days, to try to get rid of an irritation in the larynx, which has troubled me for some time past; but in this weather one’s library is the most secure retreat.
_62 Rutland Gate, January 3rd_.–I see the Court of Queen’s Bench in Canada has decided in favour of the extradition of the fugitive slave who turned and slew his pursuer. This surprises me; for surely, by our law, such an act is not murder. What, however, interests me most is to know whether the case can be brought up to the Privy Council by way of appeal. I do not know what form the proceedings in Canada have taken; but I apprehend the proceedings are civil, not criminal, and therefore appealable. If it does come here, it will be a matter of great interest.
The reference is to the celebrated case of John Anderson–or Jack–a negro of Missouri, who, in 1853, had been met by one Diggs, a white man, thirty miles away from his home. In accordance with the laws of the State, Diggs attempted to seize him. Anderson killed Diggs, and–by ‘the underground railway’–made good his escape to Canada, where he had lived ever since. In 1860 he had been recognised, and, on formal application for his extradition, he had been arrested. The Court of Queen’s Bench in Canada accepted the argument that they had to decide only as to the evidence of the commission of the crime, not as to the nature of it, and remanded the prisoner. In England the excitement was very great. The Secretary of State sent out an order that Anderson was not to be given up without instructions from him; and the Court of Queen’s Bench sent out a writ of _habeas corpus_, directing the man to be brought before it. But meanwhile an application for a writ of _habeas corpus_ had been made to the Court of Common Pleas in Canada, and the prisoner had been discharged on the technical ground that he was not charged with any crime included in the Extradition Treaty, as, for instance, murder; for the indictment was that he did ‘wilfully, maliciously and feloniously stab and kill, &c.,’ words which meant, inferentially, manslaughter; and manslaughter was not recognised by the treaty.[Footnote: See _Annual Register_, 1831, part ii. p. 520.]
The Journal here mentions the awfully sudden death of a friend of many years’ standing:–
_January 8th_.–The Frederick Elliots and Marochettis dined with us. There was a frost, and torches on the Serpentine. Mrs. F. Elliot drove round to see it, and went home and died in the night [of a spasm of the heart. The news reached Reeve by a note from Mr. Elliot, dated seven o’clock in the morning].
_From Mr. E. Twisleton_
Bonchurch, January 24th.
My dear Reeve,–I am much obliged to you for your letter of the 18th instant, which has been forwarded to me here. I am sorry to say that I have so much on my hands at present that I could not undertake to write an article on American affairs; though I am equally obliged to you for the proposal.
I lament what has taken place in the United States. Although, in a narrow political sense, a disruption may be useful to England, in another point of view it is a misfortune, inasmuch as the maintenance of one confederation during seventy-two years, over such a vast extent of territory, with no civil war, and only two foreign wars, is the greatest thing which the English race has done out of England, and its dissolution is sure to be viewed with pleasure by all who in their hearts hate free institutions and the English race.
Since Brown’s attempt to excite an insurrection of the slaves in Virginia, I have thought it impossible to avoid a civil war, if the anti-slavery feeling in the North went on increasing in intensity, as I have known it to increase during the last ten years; but I had not the most distant idea that Lincoln’s election would lead to immediate secession on the part of even a single state. In the north of the Union they have been absolutely taken by surprise, and have hardly yet made up their minds as to the course they will pursue. If Congress had merely to deal with South Carolina, it could easily checkmate that one state; but the difficulty arises from the _number_ of states, which either side with South Carolina or will not act against her.
I have the highest respect for Tocqueville’s opinion; but I do not happen to remember what he has written respecting secession. I well understand the difficulty for a confederation if any one state has a settled permanent determination to secede from it. But, under the constitution, Congress has ample powers to levy the federal revenue and maintain the laws of the Union in South Carolina–and to pass all laws necessary for this purpose. Moreover, everyone in the Union who levies war against the United States Government is guilty of treason, and there is no recognition in the constitution of any right in any state to secede from the Union. Under these circumstances, everyone in South Carolina caught in arms against the federal Government is liable to be hanged. With such laws and powers, an united Congress and a resolute president, like General Jackson, would soon reduce South Carolina to submission; and my belief is that the same might be the case if there were a league against the Union of the cotton states alone. For a time Congress would baffle such a league quite as effectually as the Swiss Confederation put down the Sonderbund.
Pray give my kind regards to Mrs. Reeve. I expect to be in London at the end of next week, and I shall be happy to communicate and receive ideas on American politics. The critical point at present is the course which will be pursued by Kentucky, Tennessee, and Virginia. Yours very truly,
EDWARD TWISLETON.
The Journal notes:–
_February 26th_.–Dined with the Apponyis, now Austrian ambassador; Duchess of Wellington, Clarendon, Lewis, Lady Westmorland, and Mme. de Bury, who was in great favour at Vienna.
_To Lord Brougham_
_62 Rutland Gate, March 1st_.–Never was a session opened with so little interest. I believe it is quite true that the Tories are resolved to _ménager_ Palmerston as much as possible, and to enter into no hostile combinations against him with the Radicals. In fact, Palmerston is gaining ground with the Conservatives, and losing it with some sections of the Liberals. He has exasperated the Irish Catholics to the last degree; and for my own part, I think his language and conduct about Mr. Turnbull’s resignation highly discreditable. It is another specimen of the unhappy influence of Shaftesbury’s ignorance and bigotry. However, the practical result is that the Government have lost Cork by a large majority, and that at the next election there will hardly be a ministerial candidate returned in Ireland.
It is impossible not to see that the general tendency of the public mind in this country is rather towards conservatism than reform. Even the reformers are compelled to haul down their bill; and if the Tories had better men to fill the offices, I think they would, in two or three years, have a fair chance of regaining power and keeping it.
At the present moment, the bishops seem to be the most eager combatants; in France they are denouncing the Emperor [Footnote: In January 1860 Reeve was told in Paris that the Pope spoke of him as the beast of the Apocalypse.] as Pontius Pilate; in England they are thirsting for the blood of a few heterodox parsons. Nothing is talked of here but ‘Essays and Reviews.’ In my humble opinion they by no means deserve the importance attached to them, either in point of style or in point of substance.
Keep my secret, but I have in preparation a regular mine under Eton College. There has been of late a good deal of discussion about it, with very little knowledge. Fortunately, I have lighted upon the evidence taken by you before your celebrated committee in 1818, all which is still quite applicable. Eton is very little improved, and the depredations of the Fellows go on with shameless audacity. I mention this to you because your committee has been of so much use to us; but I wish to keep the thing very quiet till the next number of the ‘Review’ makes its appearance.
_From Lord Brougham_
_Cannes, March 4th_.–It is very odd that for two or three days I had been reading and discussing with one or two Eton men here the subject on which you propose to do infinite service, but of course I shall not even drop the most remote allusion to your plan. The conduct at Eton is perfectly scandalous; our two boys never cost less than 200 £. a year while they were there; and I believe the case is understated, and not overstated, in the ‘Cornhill Magazine,’ and other places. One of the men who spoke to me about it said it was no fault of mine, but of Eldon, that it had not all been set right forty years ago–alluding to the Education Commission to which you refer. I recollect being reluctantly forced to insert the exemption in the Act and in the commission of inquiry. He had opposed the whole bill, and we defeated him in the Lords when he attempted to throw it out–a very extraordinary event in those days. But Rosslyn, Holland, and others who had charge of the bill, were apprehensive of being beaten on a further stage if we held out on the exemptions. In 1819 (the year after) I endeavoured to remove the exemptions in the Extensions Act to all charities, and this gave rise to Peel’s very shabby attack on the whole inquiry when I was very unwell, and wholly unprepared, and to my defence in the speech which I have often said I could not now make if I would, and would not if I could. I venture to refer to it, however, as the most remarkable I ever made in all respects.
When you have sprung your mine, I hope and trust the ‘Quarterly’ will follow your example. If Elwin was still in command I feel confident he would, for he has always joined against Eldon & Co. I highly approve your keeping it quite secret on every account.
Here the Journal has:–
_April 9th_.–I was elected a member of ‘The Club,’ in place of Lord Aberdeen–proposed by Lord Stanhope; the greatest social distinction I ever received.
This was the literary club founded in 1764 by Reynolds and Johnson, which, in the course of years, had dropped all extraneous title, and become simply The Club. ‘It still continues the most famous of the dining societies of London, and in the 133 years of its existence has perhaps seen at its tables more men of note than any other society.'[Footnote: _Edinburgh Review_, April 1897, p. 291.] Gibbon, who became a member of it in 1774, had suggested the form in which a new member was to be apprised of the distinction conferred on him. This has continued in use to the present day, and on April 9th, 1861, a copy of it was sent to Reeve, signed by the president of the evening:–
Sir,–I have the pleasure to inform you that you have this evening had the honour of being elected a member of The Club.
I am, Sir,
Your obedient servant,
GEORGE RICHMOND.
This was followed, a week later, by another letter from the same writer:–
10 York Street, Portman Square, April 16th.
My dear Mr. Reeve,–I have just returned to town and found your note of the 10th inst., and I lose not a minute in writing to say that the election which I had so much pleasure in announcing to you, I announced as president for the night, and in the form of words prescribed by Gibbon. The moment I had written it I began a note to you in my own proper person, but I did not know whether it would be quite regular to send it, and I had to leave town on the following morning. The ‘Sir,’ and ‘I am, Sir,’ which anything but express what I feel, I most gladly exchange now, if you will allow it, for a very different greeting, and I beg to remain, my dear Mr. Reeve,
Very faithfully yours,
GEORGE RICHMOND.
The Bishop of London was elected on the same night with you, and it may interest you to know that the members present were:–
Lord Lansdowne.
Lord Clarendon.
Sir H. Holland.
Sir David Dundas.
The Dean of St. Paul’s.
Sir Charles Eastlake.
Lord Stanley.
Lord Cranworth.
Lord Stanhope.
Duke of Argyll.
_To Madame de Tocqueville_
62 Rutland Gate, April 17th.
My dear Madame de Tocqueville,–I have just published, in the ‘Edinburgh Review,’ a short notice of that book and that life which are to you the dearest things in the world, and to all of us, his friends, among the dearest. A few separate copies have been struck off, and I send one to you by this post, which will, I hope, reach you with this letter. It was a matter of sincere regret to me that I found it impossible to execute my intention of translating the two volumes, [Footnote: Oeuvres et Correspondance inédites d’Alexis de Tocqueville, publiées et précédées d’une notice par Gustave de Beaumont.] partly because I found that I was too prominently noticed in them, and partly because our friends, the Seniors, were much bent on the undertaking. I therefore relinquished it in their favour. But I always intended to express in my own manner my deep affection for the memory of your husband, and my estimate of his genius as a man of letters and a statesman. This I have attempted to do in this article, and though I am sensible that it falls far short of the subject of it, yet you will discover in it traces and reminiscences of that which was one of the greatest happinesses and honours of my life–our mutual friendship.
_From Lord Brougham_
_Cannes, April 24th_.–I have read the Eton article with great satisfaction, and I really think it must have the best effect. But Ker, to whom I lent my copy of the number, is not quite satisfied; but he takes extreme views. He also thinks you have not ascribed enough to the Education Committee of 1818, or rather to the effect of our being thwarted by Eldon, Peel, &c. But he was very deep in that controversy at the time, having defended the committee in a pamphlet, and I believe also in the ‘Edinburgh Review,’ and may be apt, therefore, to take an exaggerated view of the subject.
I am still cruelly hurt at the Newton monument being for ever cushioned. If Elwin had remained editor of the ‘Quarterly’ it would have been taken up, and on right grounds. Indeed, a learned professor had actually prepared a scientific and popular article on the subject; but Elwin retired, and the ‘Quarterly Review’ will now do nothing. Altogether I believe there never will be a monument to the greatest man that England ever had, or will have.
I am anxious to read the rest of the number, but have only just got it, and I sent it to Ker after I had read the Eton; and I am unwilling to delay thanking you for that.
The Journal notes:–
Went down to Weymouth alone for a few days in May, Read Buckle’s second volume on the way.
_June 17th_.–Dinner at Lansdowne House to the Comte de Paris and the Due de Chartres; Elgins, Holfords, Bishop of Oxford, Grotes, &c.
_From Lord Clarendon_
_G. G., June 28th_.–I did not expect that any answer to the Eton article would be attempted, for it was unanswerable; the facts were real facts, and the moderation with which they were stated made them all the more telling. The commission is the proper corollary to it; and so many parents of ill-educated boys appear to think.
_To Mr. G. Dempster_
_62 Rutland Gate, August 5th_.–In spite of Sir H. Holland’s drugs, I see my fate is sealed; and as I cannot even now put on a shoe, it is vain to hope that I shall be able to walk for some time; and, indeed, to avoid relapses, I must undergo a regular cure of Vichy water. Therefore, with extreme regret, I make up my mind to turn my face south, instead of north, as soon as I can move…. I fear that, having lost the present month, there is little hope of our reaching Scotland at all this year.
Accordingly, the Journal has:–
Bad fit of gout in July and August. Went to Vichy on August 10th. The heat was extreme, and the waters made me worse. Thence to Clermont, Pontgibaud, Gergovia. Home on the 31st.
_September 1st_.–To Torry Hill [Lord Kingsdown’s]–first time; shot there. Farnborough; Atherstone; Torry Hill again on the 21st. Stetchworth-good shooting.
_From Lord Clarendon_
_Harpton Court, September 22nd_.–I would have gladly escaped the Prussian mission,[Footnote: For the coronation of the King.] which is not much to my taste, but the Queen insisted, and the Viscount [Footnote: Lord Palmerston.] and the Earl [Footnote: Lord John, created Earl Russell on July 30th, 1861.] attached political importance to it, so I yielded, and Lady C. and Constance and Emily are, also on royal recommendation, to accompany me. The two latter are of an age to like a lark, which is more than their respected parents do. I need not say that my hope of doing any good by a flying visit in the midst of a carousal is exceedingly small; but I know the King well, and shall have no difficulty in telling him what I believe to be the truth concerning his interests.
I am sorry to hear that you have been worried by gout, and that Vichy did you no good. I am inclined to speak well of Wiesbaden, for the glorious weather I had there (94° in the shade always) made the waters effective, and somehow I felt younger; but that pleasant sensation is now rather on the decline.
_From M. Guizot_
Val Richer, 7 Octobre.
My dear Sir,–Votre tante, Madame Austin, qui est ici depuis quinze jours, a fait hier, en se promenant dans une petite voiture traînée par un âne, et qu’elle menait elle-même, une chute dans laquelle elle s’est fait, au coude du bras droit, une luxation qui nous a fait craindre d’abord une fracture grave. Mon médecin de Lisieux, que j’ai envoyé chercher sur le champ, a réduit la luxation, c’est-à-dire ramené les os du coude dans leur emboîtement naturel. Petite opération fort douloureuse, mais simple et sans gravité au fond. Madame Austin en sera quitte pour deux ou trois semaines de repos et d’immobilité absolue de son bras, qui est contenu dans des éclisses. Au premier moment, elle a été fort ébranlée par cet accident. Mon médecin une fois arrivé, elle s’est remise; elle a eu un peu de fièvre cette nuit; mais elle a dormi, et elle est assez bien ce matin, presque sans souffrance de son bras. J’espère qu’elle se remettra promptement; mais je n’ai pas voulu que vous ignorassiez la cause de la prolongation de son absence. Ma fille Henriette écrit à Sir Alexander Gordon. Avec la santé de Madame Austin, tout accident peut être grave; mais je crois que vous pouvez être sans inquiétude sur les conséquences de celui-ci. Mon médecin est un homme habile qui soignera très bien votre tante, et mes filles lui épargneront un mal très pénible, l’ennui de l’immobilité.
Je ne vous parle pas aujourd’hui d’autre chose. Si vous étiez là, nous causerions. De loin, il n’y a rien qui vaille la peine d’être écrit. Tout à vous, my dear Sir,
GUIZOT.
The gout was still threatening; so, according to the Journal:–
To Aix in October; back by Paris. Went to stay with Lord and Lady Cowley at Chantilly; they had hired the _chasse_ and the _château_. Shooting there, November 11th. Home on the 16th.
At this time Lord Brougham was preparing the autobiography which was published shortly after his death. Early in November his brother, Mr. Brougham, wrote to Reeve, begging him to bring his influence to bear, and induce Lord Brougham to make this biography interesting and amusing. He wrote:–
_From Mr. W. Brougham_
_Paris, November 14th_.–Mind you dwell on books of biography which have failed for lack of personal matter and anecdotes, and use this argument, which (for reasons I need not trouble you with) will, I know, have more weight than anything you can urge–that, irrespective of any question of his own fame or reputation, if he wishes the book to be eminently successful in a commercial point of view, he must give as much as possible every detail, no matter how minute, and tell everything connected with his own history and doings. That circumstances he may consider trivial all have the greatest interest with the general public, who are the buyers he must look to; that people don’t want to read history in such a book as his autobiography; what they want is his life, and not a history of his times–anecdotes or peculiarities of his Bar and Bench friends; how he worked as a boy to make himself mathematician and orator; how he worked for the English Bar; his early associates in Edinburgh, both at school and college, and all connected with the beginnings of the ‘Edinburgh Review;’ his early associates in London before he came into Parliament in 1809, and for years afterwards; all he did at Birmingham in ’90, ’91, and ’92, when he lived there with his tutor; all he can recollect of his mother and grandmother-paternal, but more especially maternal. In short, every personal thing, no matter how trifling, will be the making, as the omission will be the marring, of the book.
I am persuaded that a good strong letter from you will have immense effect; and don’t be afraid of making it too long; the more topics like those I have hastily put down above you can give him to think over, now he is quietly at Cannes, the more chance we have of his digging into his mind and early recollections, and producing what we want.
Don’t forget to quote Guizot; also tell him that Lord Malmesbury’s heavy book was saved solely by the gossip in the third and fourth volumes. The first two are heavy historical matter that would have sunk a 74.
The letter which Reeve wrote in consequence of this has unfortunately not been preserved, but it is evident from Lord Brougham’s reply that it closely followed the lines suggested by his brother.
_From Lord Brougham_
_Cannes, November 17th_.–I have not words to express how grateful I feel for your most kind letter, which arrived this morning. I fear I must admit all you say on the necessity of much personal matter. However, I really feel certain that, with the political and general, there will be a number of personal anecdotes interspersed. Thus in the Queen’s trial, numberless singular anecdotes, professional and other; and on the changes of government and the unity of our administration, strange things of individuals: e.g. Lord Grey having, six months before taking office in 1830, positively declared to Lansdowne that he had resolved never to take office; and in 1822, to me, that unless I would consent to take office, and be leader in the Commons, nothing should induce him to take part in any administration–there being then an expectation of an offer to us; in answer to which I positively refused leaving the progressives. I give these as examples of what the correspondence contains. I quite feel, however, that something personal and in early life will be desiderated. If you look at my ‘Life of Robertson’ you will see all you refer to about his being at Brougham, and about the translation of ‘Florus,’ and other anecdotes, and a good deal about my grandmother. Indeed, in that Life, and in my contributions to the ‘Law Review,’ there are numberless anecdotes of interest.
I cannot conclude on this subject without expressing how grieved I am to see what you say of my old and dear friend Richardson. He wrote in very good spirits last spring, and I fear he has had some severe illness since. Pray let me know how this is.
The mention of him reminds me of an instance that matters which derive their whole interest from connexion with myself are thus very hateful to set down. He had given me a sermon and a hymn, written by the Principal’s father–my great-grandfather. When I attended the Glasgow congress last year, the hymn was by mere accident sung in the church where we were on the morning after our arrival:
Let not your hearts with anxious thoughts Be troubled and dismayed, &c.
I believe I was the only person in Glasgow who knew that the old minister was the author, or who knew of his existence. [Footnote: Cf. _Life and Times of Lord Brougham_, i. 30.] Now such things would make the narrative a tissue of mere egotism. However, I feel the force of your remarks exceedingly. Certainly when Guizot’s book came out, and I was asked my opinion of it, and some defects were pointed out, I could not avoid saying there was a worse defect than all they mentioned; there would be a defect of readers. And so it has proved; I have, with all my respect for him, and desire to read, been unable to get through a volume.
I must set about digging in my published works for anecdotes; and, as in the case of Robertson’s Life, I may find a great number which, apart from personality, may be interesting in their connexion with events. Again repeating my gratitude, believe me, most sincerely yours,
H. BROUGHAM.
_To Madame de Tocqueville_
Paris, November 15th.
My dear Madame De Tocqueville,–Although on the point of leaving Paris, I must write two lines to express to you my gratitude for allowing M. de Beaumont to return to me some of my own letters, which derive some value in my eyes from their connexion with my ever-lamented and illustrious friend. I have had a melancholy satisfaction here in seeing the bust which M. Salaman has made. It surpasses my expectations, especially as regards the mouth and forehead, and I trust that even you will not be entirely disappointed in it.
_From Lord Clarendon_
_The Grove, November 19th_.–I have only a minute for writing, as we have had Princess Alice here all day, and I, of course, could do nothing but the very easy task of entertaining her.
I was very glad to get your letter, as I thought you were still abroad, and I only hope you are as glad to find yourself at home again as I am, though I am not sorry to have been to Berlin. I rather envy you being at Paris during the late crisis, and getting the first impressions upon it…. I have no doubt the deficit is about what Senex [Footnote: Reeve was at this time writing occasional letters in the _Times_ under the signature of ‘Senex.’ Lord Clarendon seems to have known this. Other correspondents did not; notably Lord Kingsdown, some of whose letters innocently comment on the opinions expressed by Senex.] puts it at. I read your admirable letter with great pleasure, and thought it must be yours, though I did not understand whence it was written.
I should very much like to have a talk with you. If you are not engaged, why shouldn’t you and Mrs. and Miss Reeve come here on Saturday? We have asked Granville and C. C. G.; and I believe Lewis is coming. Miladi would write to propose this to Mrs. Reeve, but thinks she will consider two letters unnecessary.
_From Lord Brougham_
_Cannes, December 8th_. There is a new complication of the American case, and I fear, though I don’t join in what I find the universal feeling in England, that the Government of Washington will hold out. But even if they give in, this hesitation, and their manifest fear of the mob, is the most complete confirmation of all I have been so long and so often preaching, of the extreme mischief of mob-government. They are in the hands of the mob–and one of the worst mobs in the world. You see they even are under this dominion as to their military operations; for their disaster at Bull’s Run was owing to the clamour forcing their comrades to advance and do something; and now no one can have the least doubt that, if Lincoln and Seward were left to themselves, a war with England would be the thing they most dreaded; yet it is very possible they may feel unable to resist the mob-clamour, and may bring on that calamity. The mob of Paris threw France into all the horrors of the reign of terror (1793-4), which have left such indelible disgrace on the French, and which stopped all improvement both in France and in Europe for a quarter of a century, and which even now create such a force in favour of despotism–as they did in the first Napoleon’s time. But I don’t think the evils of mob-government–that is, of the supreme power being in persons not individually responsible–can be more clearly manifested, though they may not lead to such atrocious crimes, than in the States of America–and the southern as well as the northern–for the mob governs in both. My opinion will be the same, even if, contrary to probability, the Washington men are stout enough to resist the mob; for this hesitation and this struggle against the insanity of war could only be occasioned by the mob tyranny.
Prince Albert died on December 14th. It was impossible to allow an event so important in the political as well as in the social history of the reign to pass without a notice in the ‘Edinburgh Review,’ and that on the earliest occasion; though, in the middle of December, some special arrangement had to be made for it. It was, in fact, brought into the concluding pages of the article on ‘May’s Constitutional History of England.’ But the subject was one which called for exceeding care and delicacy in the handling. The services of Prince Albert to the Crown had been many and great; but by the country at large they were still looked on with jealousy and suspicion. A profound sympathy was everywhere felt for the death of the Queen’s husband; the death of a man regarded by an ignorant prejudice as the embodiment of German influence in the Cabinet might easily be considered as no great loss. Reeve seems to have consulted Lord Clarendon as to how much or how little it was prudent to say; in answer to which Lord Clarendon wrote:–
_The Grove, December 31st_.–I feel, as you do, that the events of the last month are too vast in themselves and in their consequences for discussion by letter, though I should much like to have a day’s talk over them with you.
I am very glad that you mean to undertake the task–a labour of love–of doing honour to the Prince, as I am sure it will be admirably performed; but I would suggest to you not to be too precise as to the manner in which he exercised his political influence…. There is a vague belief that his influence was great and useful; but there is a very dim perception of the _modus operandi_…. Peel certainly took the Prince into council much more than Melbourne, who had his own established position with the Queen before the Prince came to this country; but I cannot tell you whether it was Peel who first gave him a cabinet key. My impression is that Lord Duncannon, during the short time he was Home Secretary, sent the Prince a key when the Queen was confined, and the contents of the boxes had to be read or signed by her.
The concluding sentence in the next letter from Lord Clarendon refers to the feeling which had been roused in Canada by the threat of war between England and the United States. The Canadians showed an exemplary loyalty; and great numbers of Irish–many of whom (like O’Reilly) had been known at home as turbulent characters–now not only pressed forward to be enrolled in the militia, but formed themselves into special regiments.
_The Grove, January 21st_.–I cannot help telling you how excellent I think your article on the Prince. You have said the right thing in the right way, and have so hit the happy medium between justice to him and no flattery or exaggeration, that I am sure the article will be read with pleasure by everybody, because it exactly reflects the public feeling.
The Belligerent and Neutral article is also very good, and I expect that the temperate and sensible way in which the author recommends the abandonment of rights we can never again exercise will have some useful results.
The loyalty of Canada is far greater than I expected; but that the French and Irish there should come out so strong for the Crown against Democracy is indeed a surprise. That Captain Eugene O’Reilly was a tremendous patriot in ’48; and if I had not put him in prison for a little time to cool, he would have made a greater donkey of himself than he did.
The next letter from Lord Clarendon relates to a point on which widely different opinions have been and will be held, till it is decided in the only practical way. It would be foreign to our present purpose to argue it here; but it is interesting to see the opinion of the man who, more distinctly than any other, was responsible for the great change theoretically introduced into our maritime code by the Declaration of Paris.
_The Grove, January 28th_.–With respect to alterations in our maritime law and usages, I don’t know what Russell’s opinion may be, but I know that Palmerston does, or did, think the time come for relinquishing rights that we can no longer exercise. He readily assented to the doctrines laid down at Paris in ’56, and was so entirely of my opinion about going further that he tried it on at Liverpool some time afterwards; but that part of his speech was so ill received, and he received so many remonstrances against giving up the _palladium_, &c. &c., that he told me when he returned to London that the pear was not ripe, and that we must give public opinion a little more time to become reasonable.
On January 9th Charles Sumner had spoken at great length in the United States Senate, proving, very much to his own satisfaction and that of his fellow-citizens, that the surrender of Mason and Slidell was a great moral victory, confirming the principles of maritime law for which they had always contended, and which the English now admitted. A short telegraphic summary of this had caught the mail at Halifax, and been published in the ‘Times’ of the 20th; but it was not till the 27th that the United States papers, with the full report, reached England. Of this the ‘Times’–on its own part–took no further notice; but on February 1st it published a long and most scathing criticism of it by ‘Historicus’ (Mr., now Sir, William Harcourt).
_From Lord Clarendon_
_The Grove, January 30th_.–When you can spare it, I shall be very glad to see Sumner’s speech….
Russell was, of course, guided in his despatches by the law officers, and it is no wonder, therefore, that they should resemble the papers that had previously appeared–many of which were written by lawyers–or that they should be a reproduction of them; as a government could not, without risk of failure in its peaceful object, express itself with the vigour of Senex or the ‘Edinburgh Review.’ The most important despatch of all, however, and the one upon which everything hung–viz. the demand for reparation–was well conceived and executed, and did its work effectually.
_From Lord Brougham_
_Cannes, February 16th_.–I yesterday met Miss Courtenay, who gave me the very pleasing information that Mrs. Austin had excellent accounts of Lady Duff Gordon, and was quite easy about her. I trust you will confirm this account, and also add to it a general good account of Mrs. Austin herself.
I hope there is a good article on the Amendment Cases in the ‘E. R.’ They have stupidly omitted to send it from Grafton Street. The ‘Quarterly’ came, and a better article than our friend your neighbour’s never was written. I admired it so much that I wrote to him about it. Pray tell him my opinion of it, in case my letter should have miscarried, and that I admired it far more than I did the very spiteful article of someone inspired by a personal enmity against myself, and who has not the common sense and fairness, when relying on the wholly immaterial circumstance of my mis-stating the day of the Westminster election (the night of Princess Charlotte’s running away), to see that Dundonald [Footnote: _Autobiography of a Seaman_, ii. 892. It has, however, been recently shown (Atlay’s _Trial of Lord Cochrane_, pp. 330 _et seq._) that Lord Dundonald had very little to do with it.] makes the Duke of Sussex fall into the very same mistake.
_Cannes_ [_February_].–I am much obliged to you for your kind letter, and rejoice to hear of the good intelligence [Footnote: As to the health of Lady Duff Gordon.] from the Cape which will be such a relief to my valued friend, her mother.
The American news is a good deal more favourable, but still they are not out of the wood, or anything like it; and, even if they beat the Southerners in the field, the re-union is as far off as ever. Their only safe course is to regard the whole campaign as a kind of drawn battle, and both sides to negotiate as to terms of separation.
I have no doubt that a certain most intriguing ambassadress is at the bottom of the spiteful attack in the ‘Quarterly,’ and she will find her own letters rise up in judgement against her. She never will forgive my having been at the dancing school with her, because that makes her near eighty, and she pretends only to be seventy-four.
I am in constant expectation of a paper from a great mathematician, to which will be added, by B. Ker, artistic matter on monuments. It will be all sent to you, in the hope that it may assist whoever you have put on the monument question.
_Cannes, March 17th._–I am extremely sorry to find that, after all, I cannot finish you the Cambridge article on Newton, to be used at your discretion, or that of your contributor; for Mr. Routh has no less than five wranglers, including the senior, as his pupils, and this has entirely occupied him, to the exclusion of all other work. I trust it will not prevent the article. In truth, my discourse at Grantham contains all the learning on the subject, and it may be used without any acknowledgement whatever, and I shall never complain of the plagiarism.
The Journal records:–
_April 4th._–Breakfast to the Philobiblon at home. There came the Due d’Aumale, Van de Weyer, Milman, Lord Taunton.
_To Mr. Dempster_
_Exeter, April 25th_.–If that providence which shapes our ends will but finish those I rough-hew, I trust that the second week in October, or perhaps a few days earlier, will see us at Skibo. We hope to start straight for the far North as soon as ever my autumnal egg is laid….
We have hit on an Easter ramble, original and agreeable. I sent down my horses to my father’s-in-law, in Dorset, and for the last week Christine and I have been riding gently along the coast of South Devon. Yesterday we went to see Sir John Coleridge’s place at Ottery St. Mary, and he drove us also round the neighbourhood. To-day we have been at Lady Rolle’s, at Bicton, on our way from Sidmouth, to see her gardens and arboretum, which are really marvels of beauty and growth. To-morrow we shall saunter on to Dawlish, and so at last reach Plymouth, I believe. I want to get out of the way of the Exhibition opening, which bores me. At Torquay we expect to find the Fergusons of Raith and the Scotts of Ancrum.
I hear that other literary entrepreneurs have been as much struck as I am by the power and judgement there is in all that is written by a certain young author of our acquaintance.[Footnote: See ante, vol. i. p. 374.] To write as well as that is a gift; but it is more for it cannot be done without infinite practice, labour, and good sense.
At Devonport they saw Mount Edgcumbe and the ironclad frigate ‘Warrior’ then still a novelty, and unquestionably the most powerful ship of war afloat. The Journal adds: ‘Back to town on May 3rd.’
_From Lord Brougham_
_Cannes, April 22nd_.–I have just got the new number, and hasten to say how much I am pleased with the only article I have had time to read with care, the Alison.[Footnote: ‘Alison’s Lives of Lord Castlereagh and Sir C. Stewart,’ April 1862.]Nothing can be more able or more triumphant, and it is quite fair and candid towards Castlereagh, and much more than fair towards Ch. Stewart, Indeed, if the letter to me deserves half what is said in its praise,[Footnote: _Sc_.’ one of the most caustic and successful pamphlets that have appeared in defence of an unpopular cause.’] he never could have written it himself; and his gross stupidity in construing what I have said of his brother, and affixing a meaning which none but himself ever did, or could, was at the time admitted by his friends, whom he had consulted, and in spite of whom he had published–among others, Strangford, from whom I heard what had passed. I have a copy of my own, which I should like the author of the article to see, and shall send it through you when I return, for it is out of print. One of the blockhead’s follies was the not perceiving how great a panegyric I had bestowed on his brother’s speaking in the H. of Commons, after fully stating its defects. In fact, he had much greater weight as leader than Canning, who, by the way, is too much praised in the article. Such a book as Alison’s is almost incredible for its badness of all kinds; but the author (on p. 521, line six from foot) gives him a pull or two as to style by ‘ineligible for election’–though that is a trifle. The care with which the whole subject is treated, and the gross errors–partly from ignorance, partly from adulation–exposed is quite admirable.
I have naturally been attracted to the Monument article, but have not had time fully to profit by it; only I am greatly indebted to the learned author for what he says of my Grantham address.[Footnote: ‘Public Monuments,’ April 1862, p. 550.] However, I should have been far better pleased had he left me out altogether, and dwelt at more length on the disgrace of the country never having erected a monument to the greatest man she ever produced–indeed, the greatest [that has] ever been. He seems not to be aware of the one in Westminster Abbey having been raised by his niece’s family, and not by the public.
_Cannes, April 27th_.–I have a complaint to make of the ‘E. R.’ last number. In the learned and able article on ‘Jesse’s Richard III.,’ at p. 307, Lingard is referred to as having quoted the commission of the High Constable. I have scanned every line and every word of Lingard and find no such commission. But in a note to the third volume of Hume, note R, the commission is given verbatim from Rymer. Jock Campbell used to hold that a false reference was an offence that ought to be made penal. I don’t go so far, but the evil is very great. I have lost three or four hours in consequence. Therefore, pray have inquiry made of your contributor whether or not I am right; and if not, where in Lingard the quotation is.
Reeve referred the ‘complaint’ to Hayward, the writer of the article, who replied:–
I believe B. is right, for when I corrected the proof I looked in vain in Lingard, although I was firmly convinced that he had quoted the document. But pray remind his lordship that, when Campbell spoke of a false reference, he meant one with volume and page.
Lord Brougham’s answer to this defence is not given, but it is impossible to allow it to pass without protest; for, whatever Campbell may have meant, it is very certain that a false reference, with volume and page cited, by which the falsehood is at once made manifest, is a venial offence in comparison with a false reference given vaguely, which may keep the victim hunting for it for hours, as this one actually did keep Lord Brougham.
_From Lord Brougham_
_Cannes, May 7th_.–I wish to suggest to you the positive duty of taking care that justice is done upon the trumpery, and one-sided, and altogether insignificant Life of Pitt by Stanhope. Murray having published it, of course the ‘Quarterly’ has puffed it, and done so with an entire ignorance of the subject which is hardly conceivable. Therefore take great care before you commit the subject to any unsafe hands.
_To Lord Brougham_
_62 Rutland Gate, May 11th_.–As I have lived for many years on terms of personal friendship, and indeed intimacy, with Lord Stanhope, and am indebted to him for many acts of kindness, it would be quite impossible for me to attack his book, even if I thought as ill of it as you do. I shall, therefore, content myself with recording the very different view which I entertain of the success of Mr. Pitt’s administration. I think it may be shown that both in peace and in war he was one of the most unsuccessful ministers who ever exercised great power.
On these lines Reeve himself wrote the article, which was published in the ‘Review’ of July, and brought him the following:–
_From Lord Stanhope_
Grosvenor Place, July 17th.
My dear Mr. Reeve,–Allow me to say how very much I have been gratified in reading the article on my ‘Life of Pitt’ in the new number of the ‘Edinburgh.’ Had the criticism been hostile I assure you that I should not have felt that I had the smallest reason to complain; nor should I have inquired or even wished to know the writer’s name. But as the matter stands, I would ask to convey to him through you my acknowledgement for his very indulgent appreciation of myself, as well as for the perfect fairness and honourable candour with which the public questions at issue between us are discussed. It would be a pleasure to me if either now or at some time hereafter he would permit me to become acquainted with the name of a critic who is evidently so accomplished as to render the praise of no slight or mean account. Believe me,
Very faithfully yours,
STANHOPE.
It does not appear that Lord Stanhope ever knew who the writer was.
Meantime the Journal notes:–
This was the year of the second Great Exhibition.
_May 15th_.–The Binets came to see us. On the 21st the Duc d’Aumale’s _fête_ to the Fine Arts Club; took Binet there. Went to the Derby with Binet and Stewart Hodgson. Xavier Raymond came.
_July 22nd_.–Dined at the Clarendon with the Comtes de Paris and Chartres, on their return from the American war. Prince Edward of Saxe Weimar and the Due d’Aumale were there.
_July 31st_.–Left London for Germany. By Ostend and Cologne to Wiesbaden, where the Boothbys and Hathertons were. Then to Nuremberg, Munich, Salzburg, and through the Tyrol to Venice. Stayed there till the 24th.
_August 25th_.–Went to Arquà to see Petrarch’s house and tomb. Milan; Italian lakes. Back over the St. Gothard, Lucerne, Paris. Home, September 9th.
_To Lord Brougham_
_C. O., September 11th_.–Your very kind letter of last month would certainly not have remained so long unanswered if I had been in England. But we have been travelling for the last five weeks in the Tyrol and the north of Italy; my letters were not forwarded, and I only received that which you had been good enough to address to me on my return to London yesterday. There is probably no living opinion upon the character and administration of Mr. Pitt so enlightened and valuable as your own, and I am gratified in the highest degree to find that my attempt to place the leading acts of his administration in a somewhat new light meets with your approval. The chief defect in Lord Stanhope’s book is, in my opinion, that it does not present any connected view of Mr. Pitt as a statesman at all; and this the reader of the article may infer from every page of it. I began to write with a disposition to place Mr. Pitt rather higher than he had been placed before in the ‘Review;’ but upon a careful survey of his conduct on each of these questions, I found the ground crumble away under me.
As to the state of the army from 1783 to 1803, it was deplorable. Did you ever see Sir Frederick Adam’s notes on what the army was when, at the age of 14, he entered it.[Footnote: In 1795. These notes do not seem to have been published.] When the Duke of Wellington first went to the Peninsula, he gives a wretched account of the forces–ignorant officers and rascally men. One of the grandest services the Duke rendered to his country was that he raised the character of the army and made it a most admirable instrument. But that was long after the days of Pitt.
The present Duke of Wellington tells me he is very well pleased with the article on his father’s supplementary despatches in the last number of the ‘Review,’ and I think it is fairly done. They are a mass of most interesting and instructive materials, but very few persons will master them, whilst the trash that Thiers calls history circulates broadcast in Europe. I heard in Paris on Sunday that 65,000 copies of his 20th volume are already sold.
_To Mr. Dempster_
_C. O., September 12th_.–We returned to England on Tuesday, after a pleasant tour, but the weather drove us from the mountains to the plains, and instead of preparing ourselves to graduate in the Alpine Club, we loitered in the galleries of Munich, Venice, and Milan, or amongst the remains of Padua and Verona. On the Lago Maggiore we met the Speaker [Footnote: Mr. Denison, afterwards Lord Ossington.] and Lady Charlotte, and with them crossed the St. Gothard to Lucerne…. We still hope, if it suits you, to come down to you when I have got quit of the ‘Review.’ I shall be engaged in London till October 7th, and then we are going for a few days to Raith… but I hope about the 12th or 13th we may reach the far North.
_From Lord Brougham_
_Brougham, September 14th_.–I can well believe that Wellington is satisfied with the review [Footnote: “Wellington’s Supplementary Despatches,” July 1862.] of his father’s correspondence. It is very ably and very fairly done. But I wish it had reprimanded the Duke for making the publication nearly useless by giving no table of contents. When I complained of this, he said it had been considered, and that an index would have been hardly possible. My answer was that I did not want an index, but only a dozen of pages giving the dates and the titles of the letters in succession. As it is, one can find no letter without turning over the whole of a volume.
Well, what shall we now say of the Disunited States? My last letter from J. Parkes,[Footnote: Probably Joseph Parkes, the well-known agent of the Liberal party. He died August 11th, 1865, but none of the obituary notices mention his wife.] who is married to a Yankee, and in correspondence with many men of note in the North, represents the feeling to be growing for mediation, but mediation on the ground of a re-uniting of the South, which means no mediation at all. But he says that the real feeling of the Americans, both N. and S., is of great respect for England, and pride in their descent from and connexion with us. The tone of the press, however, shows that this feeling dares not be shown, and that the popular clamour–that is, the mob-cry–is t’other way.
The Journal has:–
_September 12th_.–To Torry Hill; shooting for ten days.
_22nd_.–Rode over to Leeds Castle with Lord Kingsdown. Farnborough, Stetchworth, Chorleywood (W. Longman’s).
_October 8th_.–To Raith, with Christine and Hopie. Mrs. Norton there. Then by Elgin and Burgh Head to Skibo. Shooting there. To Novar; back to Edinburgh and Kirklands, October 26th. Then to Abington on the 29th, and to Brougham–amusing visit. I was asked to read Lord B.’s Memoirs, and dissuade him from publishing them. To Ambleside to see Harriet Martineau. Thence to Badger Hall [Cheney’s], November 8th. Went over Old Park iron works. Home on November 11th.
_December 17th_.–We went to Chevening, and met there the Grotes, Milman, Lord Stanley, Scharf, and Hayward. Lewis came on the 19th. Most agreeable party.
_22nd_.–Shooting at Stetchworth.
_31st_.–To the Duke of Newcastle’s at Clumber. Sir F. Rogers [afterwards Lord Blachford] there.
_1863_.–The year opened at Clumber. The Webbes of Newstead, the Manners-Suttons, Venables, and Herbert came there. Shooting good; caught three pike; rode with the Duke to Thoresby and Welbeck, through Sherwood Forest.
_January 6th_.–To the Speaker’s at Ossington.
_12th_.–I was made treasurer of the Literary Club [Footnote: This must not be confused with The Club (see _post_, 133), which had long since dropped the ‘Literary.’] (Walpole’s) on Adolphus’ death.
_February 25th_.–Prince of Wales’ first levee.
_March 7th_.–The Princess of Wales entered London on her marriage. I saw it from the Board of Trade rooms on London Bridge. Took the Dempsters there.
_27th_.–The Duke of Newcastle, Baron Gros (French ambassador), Lord Stanley, Mr. Adam, Lady Molesworth, Lord Kingsdown, and the Heads dined with us.
It appears by the next letter, from Lord Clarendon, that Reeve had asked him to review the first two volumes of Kinglake’s ‘Invasion of the Crimea,’ then on the point of publication.
_The Grove, January 11th_. Some time ago I desired my booksellers to send me the first copy they could procure of Kinglake’s book, and I shall read it most carefully…. There are many reasons why I should not like to review the work; but I am equally obliged to you for the offer, and I shall, of course, communicate to you unreservedly my opinions upon it.
With this promise of help at first hand, Reeve undertook the review himself; but the letters which follow show that, though the hand was the hand of Reeve, the voice was the voice of Clarendon–a collaboration that gives the article a very singular interest.
_From Lord Clarendon_
_The Grove, January 23rd_.–Although I’m sure it is unnecessary, yet it occurs to me to ask you not to quote my opinion of Kinglake’s book; as, for the present, and for a variety of reasons, I should prefer its not reaching him in an indirect manner. I long for a quiet talk with you, and am sorry that it must be postponed for a few days; but in the meanwhile I may perhaps be able to refresh my memory by referring to my private correspondence, which is in London. Let me have a line to say what impression the book makes in the world, as far as you have yet been able to observe. I shall look with curiosity and some anxiety for the effect it produces at Paris.
_January 25th_.–Hayward has written to ask my opinion of the book. He is at Broadlands, and says that Palmerston is, on the whole, well pleased with the portrait of himself, and that Lady P. is enchanted.
I think as you do of the second volume; there is nothing finer, that I know of, in the English language than those successive battle pictures. He beats Napier out of the field. The ‘Times’ does not seem to like the portrait of itself. I thought the article yesterday ingenious. I shall hear shortly what effect the book produces at Paris. Persigny will, of course, prohibit its entrance, but he will not be able to shut out all the papers that contain extracts.
_The Grove, February 8th_.–I fear that my notes would not be legible or intelligible to anyone but myself, and I should much like to have a little talk with you on the book. Could you come here on Saturday next and stay till Monday? or if you should chance to be engaged on Saturday, would you come down by the ten o’clock train on Sunday morning? I do not propose Saturday morning, as I must myself be in London at the Schools Commission on that day.
_G. C., February 25th_.–I shall be very glad to see the article in print. I am sure it will make a great sensation. Kinglake would induce people to believe that the Emperor was under an urgent necessity to turn away the attention of his subjects from his action at home, and that he therefore dragged us into the war fourteen or fifteen months after the _coup d’état_. It would, I think, be worth while to get some facts respecting his status in France at that time. If I am not mistaken, he was in no trouble or danger at all; for the nation had accepted him as a sort of deliverer from the _rouges_, the fear of whom had been terrifying people out of their senses.
_G. C., March 4th_.–The article quite comes up to my expectations, and I like it very much. I cannot think it obnoxious to the charge of dulness; but on that point I may not be an impartial judge, as the diplomatic details are to me intensely interesting.
I have hardly any observations to make that would be worth your attending to, but I will mention one or two things that have occurred to me.
And this he did at considerable length, suggesting several confirmations, modifications, or additions.
So long as this article was to be considered as an ordinary contribution to the ‘Edinburgh Review,’ it bore merely the authority of the ‘Review,’ which, however great, was in no sense official; but now that the share of Lord Clarendon in its authorship is revealed, it assumes an extreme importance, as an original, though necessarily partial, account of what took place, and may be held as definitely settling the fate of some of the extraordinary misstatements which–foisted on the credulity of the public by the literary skill, the brilliant language, and the unblushing audacity of Mr. Kinglake–have been accepted as history, and have passed into current belief. Perhaps nothing concerning the Russian war is more commonly repeated than the statement that we were tricked into it by the Emperor of the French for his own selfish ends, and in his desire to be received into the brotherhood of sovereigns; that our ministers were blindly following the lead of Louis Napoleon, and were guilty of a very gross blunder. It is unnecessary and would be out of place to enter here on the examination and demolition of all this, as given in the pages of the ‘Edinburgh Review;’ and equally would it be out of place to discuss the question–as unknown to Kinglake or to Reeve in 1863 as it was to Palmerston or Clarendon ten years earlier–whether we were not then, whether we have not been ever since, ‘putting our money on the wrong horse.’ If we were, if we have been–a thing which many among us are still unwilling to believe–it is at least certain that in 1853, as in 1840, it was all but universally held in this country that it would be prejudicial and dangerous to our most important interests for either Russia or France to obtain sovereign control over the Ottoman dominions, and that all the resources of diplomacy or of war ought to be exerted to prevent it. In the joint article before us, the condition of affairs in 1853 is thus stated in a few words:–‘Russia had formed the design to extort from Turkey, in one form or another, a right of protection over the Christians. She never abandoned that design. She thought she could enforce it. The Western Powers interposed and the strife began…. England has no call to throw off the responsibility of the measures taken on any other Power. Those measures were taken because they were demanded by her own conception of the duty she had to perform; and by far the largest share of that responsibility rests with this country. We see no reason to deny it; and if the case occurred again, we should see no reason to act with less determination.’ And again as to the prosecution of the war after the raising of the siege of Silistria–which, according to Kinglake, was unnecessary; or the invasion of the Crimea–which was unjustifiable, to be accounted for, not by any large views of politics or of war, but by paltry personal passions and influences of the most contemptible kind:–England and France declared by their despatches of July 22nd, that the sacrifices already imposed on them were too great, and the cause they had taken in hand too important, for them to desist, unless they obtained from Russia adequate securities against the renewal of hostilities. They therefore demanded:–l. That the protectorate claimed by Russia over the Principalities by virtue of former treaties now abrogated, should cease. 2. That the navigation of the mouths of the Danube should be free. 3. That the treaty of July 13th, 1841, should be revised in the sense of a restriction of the naval power of Russia in the Black Sea. 4. That no Power should claim an official protectorate over the Christian subjects of the Porte. On August 8th, Austria entirely adopted these principles, and on the 10th she urged Russia to accede to these demands. On the 26th Russia positively rejected these terms. Had they been accepted, it is needless to add that the Crimean expedition would not have taken place. Here, then, is the clear and precise ground on which the war assumed an offensive character against Russia–viz. to compel her to submit to terms of peace, which England and France held to be necessary to the future safety of Turkey, and which Austria had fully adopted. This is the political explanation of the war, and it was fully justified, as each preceding step of the allies had been justified, by a fresh refusal on the part of Russia to agree to the terms proposed by the allies. It is unnecessary to carry this examination further. It has been introduced here merely as an illustration and a proof of the historical importance of the article now that Lord Clarendon’s share in it is understood, and we are made acquainted with the peculiar opportunities which Reeve possessed–not only as Clarendon’s friend, but as in actual, confidential conversation with Lord Stratford when he ordered up the fleets. [Footnote: See _ante_, vol. i. p. 312.]
The fine old motto of the ‘Edinburgh Review,’ _Judex damnatur cum nocens absolvitur_, is, when reduced to practice, apt to strain the relations between the ‘judex’ and the ‘nocens;’ and in this case the very outspoken review, published under Reeve’s sanction, caused a coolness between the two men, the editor and the author, who had previously been on friendly terms. It is, in fact, easily conceivable that, in earlier years or in other lands, powder would have burnt or small swords flashed. Being when and where they were, they dropped out of each other’s circle. And this continued for upwards of three years, when a chance meeting opened the door to reconciliation.
_From Mr. Kinglake_
9 St. George’s Terrace, Marble Arch,
November 14th, 1866.
Dear Reeve,–I think I perceived yesterday that my malice–malice founded, I believe, on a couple of words, and now of some three years’ standing–had not engendered any corresponding anger in you; and if my impression was a right one, I trust we may meet for the future upon our old terms. Shall it be so?
Faithfully yours,
A. W. KINGLAKE.
CHAPTER XV
LAW AND LITERATURE
By what must seem a curious coincidence, in 1863 and the two years immediately following, death carried off all who had been mainly instrumental in forming Reeve’s career. Greville, who introduced him to the ‘Times,’ died in 1865; his mother died in 1864; in 1863, his early patron and assured friend, the Marquis of Lansdowne, died on January 31st, at the ripe age of 82; his uncle, John Taylor, the head of the Taylor family, a man of singular ability as a mining engineer, died on April 5th; and Sir George Lewis, whose retirement from the editorship of the ‘Edinburgh Review’ had paved the way for Reeve’s succession, died on April 13th. Much of Reeve’s correspondence with Lord Clarendon–Lewis’s brother-in-law–refers to the wish of the widow, the Lady Theresa Lewis, that a collected edition of her husband’s contributions to the ‘Review’ should be published. The wish was only partially carried into effect; seven of the articles were collected in a volume published in 1864 under the title of ‘Essays on the Administrations of Great Britain from 1783 to 1830;’ and Lewis’s brother, Sir Gilbert Lewis, who succeeded to the baronetcy, published his letters in 1870. The following letter from Lord Clarendon refers to the death (on January 31st) of Lewis’s stepdaughter–Lady Theresa’s daughter by a former marriage–and wife of Mr., now Sir, William Harcourt:–
_G. C., February 3rd_.–I came up early yesterday morning, and only received this evening your most kind letter directed to The Grove, or I should have thanked you for it sooner.
A great misfortune has befallen us, and we are all very sad, but derive some comfort from the calmness and resignation with which my sister is bearing up against her grief. To William Harcourt it is, indeed, as you say, a wreck of all happiness and hope; but no man under such trying circumstances could have displayed more fortitude, or more tender concern for others. I meet him to-morrow at Nuneham for the last sad office.
I grieve for Lord Lansdowne, and yet it is impossible not to feel that, at his age, and with rapidly increasing infirmities, a prolongation of existence was not to be desired. He was a rare combination of high qualities, and we shall not look upon his like again.
The next letter, also from Lord Clarendon, refers to the ‘Albert Memorial’:–
_The Grove, March 29th_.–I knew you would approve of the Cross. I myself should prefer it to any other form of memorial, if it was in the centre of converging roads, or of a great place surrounded by buildings more or less harmonising with it; but placed in Hyde Park, with no local assistance beyond its imaginary connexion with the Exhibitions of ’51 and ’62, I have my fears that it will be thought unmeaning.
I forget at this moment the exact height of the design, but I do not think it is to be 300 feet; and Mr. Scott is to consider whether the proportions may not generally be reduced. He may wish to build the largest cross in the world, but neither the Queen nor her committee have any such desire…. I don’t think that a grant by the representatives of the people, as a supplement to their voluntary contributions, and aided by the subscription of the Queen, would destroy the feeling of the monument. There might perhaps be less sentiment, but the whole would be more national.
From the Journal:–
_May 4th_.–Lord Hatherton died at Teddesley. His illness had been long. When we parted at Wiesbaden in August last, I knew we should not meet again. Never was there a kinder and more active friend. The confidence he showed me was unbounded; insomuch that in November he placed in my hands the original correspondence of the ministers with himself in June and July, 1834, on the Irish Coercion Bill, which led to the breaking up of Earl Grey’s Cabinet. These I have power to publish; but, if not published, I mean eventually to return them to the Littleton family.
This I did in July 1864. The volume was published in 1872.
_To Mr. Dempster_
_C. O., July 10th_.–I am rather like a boy to whom some benevolent genius offers a basket of peaches, and who feels rather shy of taking the biggest of them; but, on the other hand, it would be a shabby return for great kindness to keep you in suspense. I, therefore, answer that, _sauf cause majeure_, we hope to be with you on the evening of Tuesday, August 11th. We shall probably go down to Aberdeen by sea, starting on Saturday, the 8th, if decent berths can be obtained, and I have sent to take them. If this fails we should start on Sunday evening by rail. I cannot express to you how delightful to me is the thought of the kind welcome of Skibo, and the fresh air of your hills, after a very long and laborious season. But I have still a month in the mill, and a huge list of causes to be disposed of.
The ‘Edinburgh’ will be out on Thursday. You will find it very Scotch.
The Journal notes:–
We went to Chichester, on a visit to Dr. McCarogher; and from there to Goodwood races.
_August 8th_.–To Scotland by sea. Beached Skibo on the 11th. Shooting on the 12th with Sir Kenneth Mackenzie, Seaforth, and Dempster.
_25th_.–To Brahan. Little old General Kmety there; very good fun; but he does not look a hero.
_To Mr. Dempster_
_Brahan Castle, August 26th_.–We performed our pleasant but slow journey very well, and arrived at five P.M. The weather yesterday was the worst I have seen this year in Scotland. I declined to face the woods, but we got a walk by the Conan in a gleam of sunshine. However, the house and its collections, and their most amusing and hospitable owner, afforded us ample amusement. I am sorry, for my own sake, that this country is constantly gaining stronger claims on my affection and regard; for am I not born a dweller by our inglorious southern streams and downs? If, however, there be such a thing as transmigration hereafter, let me hope that I shall come out at last as a Highland laird.
The Journal continues:–
_August 28th_.–To Invergarry, where we lunched with Mr. Peabody; and to Glenquoich–Ed. Ellice’s. The Elchos, Sir F. and Lady Grey, and Lowe there.
_31st_.–Excursion from Glenquoich to Loch Hourn. Then by Oban to Glasgow. Visit to the Belhavens at Wishaw, September 4th, and to Abington. Home on the 10th.
_September 15th_.–Torry Hill. Shooting there for some days.
_17th_.–Mr. Ellice died suddenly [Footnote: Of heart disease and eighty-two years. He was found dead in his bed.] at Ardochy, only a fortnight after we left his house. That excursion to Loch Hourn was his last.
_To Mr. Dempster_
_Torry Hill, September 21st_.–What a sudden and painful loss is this abrupt termination of the life of our kind friend at Glenquoich! It is scarcely three weeks since we left him in his usual health and spirits, and now–as Evelyn says–all is in the dust…. I have had an unpleasant accident, though–thank God!–not a serious one. Turning round very suddenly to shoot a partridge behind me, without seeing that Lord Kingsdown was on his pony about fifty yards off, a pellet of shot from my gun hit him in the cheek, and another hit his pony in the eye. Conceive my horror! Fortunately, the wound was very slight, and, indeed, was well in half an hour; but if it had hit him in the eye I never should have forgiven myself.
_From Lord Clarendon_
_The Grove, October 4th_.–I was very glad to hear from you this morning, but very sorry to learn that you have cause for deep anxiety respecting your mother, and I fear, from what you say, that she is hopelessly ill and suffering much. I sympathise with you sincerely. I joined my people at Lathom a month ago, and we returned last week from our peregrinations, all well, except myself, who can’t shake off the gout, which is a disappointment after having taken the trouble of a Wiesbaden cure.
On the day of my last bath there I received an urgent request from our Foreign Secretary that I should proceed to Frankfort and observe the conference. I did so, and was interested and amused. It was an opportunity that may never occur again of meeting the sovereigns of Germany, great and small….
The impression made upon me by the E. of Austria was very agreeable. He had none of the proud manner of which at one time we heard so much, but, on the contrary, he was frank and gentlemanlike, and told me the difficulties in which Germany was placed by such an effete institution as the Diet, and the advances making by Democracy, which, for the first time, were dangerous, because the people had reason and justice on their side. He told me, also, all the steps he had taken to secure the co-operation of the K. of Prussia, which were straightforward and deferential; and he complained, though without bitterness, of the manner in which they had been misrepresented…. It may be that some good will come, perhaps before the close of the present century, from a public avowal by congregated sovereigns that their subjects had grievances of magnitude, and that delay in redressing them was full of dynastic danger.
One can conceive no more complete diplomatic fiasco than the three great Powers of Europe giving a triumph to Gortschakoff. The mistake originally made was thinking that Russia was weak and in trouble, and would therefore yield to menace. Several months ago I took the liberty of suggesting that, although Russia was powerless for an aggressive war, she would be found as strong and formidable as ever in resisting any attack from without, and that foreign dictation would probably have the effect of uniting all the parties into which Russia was divided. I don’t mean to deny, however, that intervention of some kind was inevitable; but the difficulties attending it were either overlooked or not foreseen, and the mode of dealing with them has consequently been unskilful.
Continuing the Journal:–
_October 5th_.–To Aiupthill. On the 17th to the Grove; Odo Russell there. 24th, to Torry Hill, with Christine and Hopie. Met the Roger Leighs there; also the Heads and Sir Lawrence Peel. High jinks on Hopie’s twenty-first birthday.
_November 19th_.–To Shoeburyness, to see the trial of Sir William Armstrong’s 600-pounder gun.
My mother was exceedingly ill during the autumn, and it became apparent that her illness was mortal. She was attended with great assiduity by Dr. Fyfe. For this reason we remained within reach of London.
_From Lord Westbury_ [Footnote: At this time Lord Chancellor.]
_Basingstoke, November 28th_.–I shall be much obliged to you if, by the application of the whip to the printer, you can get him to strike off a few copies of the notes of my opinion on the appeals in the matter of the ‘Essays and Reviews’ by Tuesday afternoon, so that a copy may, on the evening of Tuesday, be sent to Lords Cranworth, Chelmsford, and Kingsdown. The notes are not long, but I am anxious that they should be, as soon as possible, in the hands of the three noble lords I have named. I hope we shall be able to give judgement about December 15th.
Lord Brougham’s next letter refers to one of the few unpleasant passages in Reeve’s life. In October 1863 the ‘Edinburgh Review’ had an article on J. G. Phillimore’s ‘Reign of George III.,’ in which the book was somewhat roughly handled. That the comment was honest is quite certain; that it was just would probably be the opinion of most historical students; but Mr. Phillimore thought that it was neither one nor the other, and being–as the ‘Saturday Review’ described him–one whose ‘normal position was that of a belligerent,’ he replied to the review by a studiously offensive and personal pamphlet, [Footnote: This sensitiveness to literary criticism was, perhaps, a family failing. Some forty years before, Phillimore’s uncle, Sir John Phillimore, was fined 100£. for bludgeoning James, the author of the _Naval History_, for some unflattering remarks on the discipline of the ‘Eurotas’ whilst under his command.] bearing the title ‘Reply to the Misrepresentations of the “Edinburgh Review.”‘ According to this, the article was a spiteful attack made by ‘Mr. Reeve’ himself; it was mainly noticeable for its ignorance, its malice, its time-serving toadyism of Lord Stanhope, and should be contrasted with another article in the same number of the ‘Review’ on ‘Austin on Jurisprudence,’ which was outrageously belauded because Austin was ‘Mr. Reeve’s’ uncle. In point of fact, the article on Phillimore was written by the present Judge O’Connor Morris, and that on Austin by John Stuart Mill, neither of whom was an intimate friend of the editor’s. Phillimore did not notice, or was not sufficiently acquainted with Reeve’s family history to appraise yet another article on ‘Tara: a Mahratta Tale,’ by Captain Meadows Taylor–Reeve’s cousin. If he had, he would certainly have made it the subject of some more scurrilities.
_Cannes, January 7th_.–I have only a moment before the post goes to write, and it may be too late another day. Pray allude to Phillimore’s pamphlet, and give some explanation on certain parts of it. I have not read the whole of it, but friends here who borrowed it of me have, and they tell me that some explanation is required. They are a good deal prejudiced, however, owing to your having praised Stanhope’s book, of which they have a very bad opinion. I myself rather agree with them, though not going to the same length. Of Phillimore, I only know that he did good service in the Commons for a public prosecutor, and was very shabbily supported by the friends of Law Amendment. But I had a very poor opinion of the book, though he is a very clever man, and the Yankees considered him the first man in the House of Commons.
Reeve’s letters for several months had been leading up to the next sad entry in the Journal. For a woman of seventy-five, a serious and prolonged illness could scarcely have any other issue.
My mother’s illness was approaching its melancholy end. On January 8th I sat up all night at Brompton. On the 9th she was speechless. On Sunday, the 10th, at 3 P.M., she died. On the 16th she was buried in the Brompton Cemetery. Edward James Reeve read the service. Arthur Taylor, John, Richard, John Edward, and Fairfax Taylor, Sir A, Gordon, P. Worsley, W. Wallace, J. P. Simpson, R. Lane, Dr. Fyfe, and John Cox attended.
On the 17th I went to Essex Street Chapel, where Madge preached her funeral sermon. He had preached my father’s funeral sermon just fifty years before. My mother survived my father nearly fifty years. This is not the place to comment on her singular virtues!
We went to Boulogne on the 18th for the first period of mourning, and visited Amiens and Abbéville. Home on the 25th.
_To Mr. Dempster_
62 _Rutland Gate, January 11th_.–Your long kindness and friendship tell me how much I may rely on your sympathy. My dear mother expired yesterday afternoon, in perfect serenity. However long one may have anticipated such a stroke and, as I told you in July, I knew it was impending–one cannot realise it till it falls. As Gray said to Mason, ‘A man has but one mother;’ it is a blank that cannot be filled up. But I have the consolatory thought that my dear mother’s life was complete in its usefulness, its energy, its unquenchable zeal for the good of others, its Christian endurance of sorrow and of pain; and no one ever lived in this world more fitted to enter upon another. Christine was with her to the last.
_From the Duc d’Aumale_
_Orleans House_, 11 _Janvier_.–Hélas! cher Monsieur; je n’ai pas de consolation à vous offrir; je ne puis que vous assurer de ma profonde sympathie. Je juge de ce que vous devez souffrir par ce que je ressentirais à votre place. Mon coeur est avec le vôtre. H. D’ORLÉANS.
_From Lord Clarendon_
January 11th.
My Dear Reeve,–I heard to my great regret a little while ago that the day of your affliction was fast approaching, and I knew at once by your envelope this afternoon that the hour had come. I thank you for your kind thought of not allowing me to hear by public report an event that so deeply affects your happiness; and I know from my own sad experience how to feel for you in this trial–the loss of a mother’s never-failing love and sympathy, and of one’s own daily occupation, that real labour of love, in ministering to her comfort and soothing the ills of declining years. You have the consolation, and it is one to be grateful for, my dear Reeve, that your last impressions are of a calm and painless passage from this life, such as you would have most desired for her whom you have so loved and can never forget. Lady Clarendon and my daughters desire me to send you their kind regards and the expression of their sincerest sympathy.
Believe me, my dear Reeve,
Ever yours truly,
CLARENDON.
_To Madame de Tocqueville_
Boulogne-sur-mer, January 20th.
My dear Madame de Tocqueville,–One’s own sorrows bring back with increased vivacity the sorrows of others and the melancholy recollections of other years, for at each successive blow a great gap is made in life, and one feels that another record of the past is closed. We have come to this place for a few days to regain a little health and spirits after the long and anxious year we have passed by my dear mother’s sick bed. All our cares have unhappily been vain, and about ten days ago she breathed her last. I cannot express how great a loss this is to me, or how deeply I feel it. Your dear and ever-lamented husband was one of those who appreciated the exquisite simplicity and energy of my mother’s character, and the words he let fall from time to time about her are very precious to me.
To any one who now reads the book, [Footnote: See _ante_, vol. ii. p. 66.] and considers the later course of the lives of its authors, it is difficult to conceive the excitement which was raised about the case referred to in the next note from the Journal. The remembrance of it seems to throw a doubt on the reality or immutability of ‘first principles.’
_February 8th_.–Judgement was given by the Judicial Committee on the great ecclesiastical cause of ‘Essays and Reviews.’ It was drawn with great care by Lord Westbury, who read it all over with me before it was submitted to the committee.
_From Lord Brougham_
_Cannes, February 13th_.–I received your melancholy letter [Footnote: Announcing the death of his mother.] some time ago, but I did not answer it because I felt that your excuse for not taking notice of Phillimore’s attack was too good, and I had no comfort to offer you. I suffered most severely myself by the same loss, and I have not, after above twenty years, learnt to forget it. Your letter brought it back strongly to my mind, as it also did the memory of my excellent friend your father.
I find my opinion, and those I cited in support of it, is confirmed by the articles in the journals–such as the ‘Saturday Review’ [Footnote: February 6th, 1864.]–which, though attacking Phillimore in some particulars, yet show that some answer to him, or explanation of matters which he represents, was wanted. But I dare say his attacks will be forgotten, and you may be right in doing nothing that can help to keep them in people’s recollection. [Footnote: Reeve, who was always averse from any controversy of this nature, took no public notice of the pamphlet, and Phillimore died early the next year.]
I have just got your new number and not read a page of it, as the ‘Quarterly’ came with it, and I was anxious to read the review of our friend your neighbour’s book, [Footnote: _The Life of Marcus Tullius Cicero_.] which is learnedly and most justly praised, and the value of the praise not impaired, like that of the ‘Saturday Review,’ [Footnote: February 6th, 1864.] by praising Houghton’s (Dick Milnes’) poems in another article.
The Journal has:–
_February 20th_.–Went to Farnborough. The Longmans just installed in their new house.
To Ampthill at Easter. On April 1st to Paris, with Christine and the Dempsters. I had the gout all the time.
_April 3rd_.–Races at Vincennes. Embassy ball on the 5th. Persignys and Morny there. Breakfast at Vaux with Marochettis on the 6th. Met Sigismond Krasinski’s son Ladislas at his mother’s.
_From Lord Clarendon_
_G. C., April 6th_.–As five years of freedom had augmented my inveterate dislike of office, you may suppose that I made a gallant resistance–quite _à la Danoise_; but at last I could not help taking an oar with old friends in a boat which they believed to be sinking, and in which they fancied I might be of some use. If the Government had been as clear of some of the worst shoals a fortnight ago as it is now, nothing would have induced me to say ‘Yes.’
I hope that Stansfeld’s exit and Palmerston’s speech, and, more important still, the feeling throughout the country upon the Mazzini affair, will mend our relations with France by showing Frenchmen of all classes and colours that the alliance is here estimated at its real value; indeed, nothing will go well in Europe if England and France are supposed to be pulling different ways; and if they had been acting together, instead of being _en froid_ six months ago, the Dano-German difficulty would never have attained its present developement. Some soreness was natural at our not agreeing to the congress; but too much has been made of the tone of J. R.’s answer, and offence ought not to be taken where none was intended, but quite the reverse, as I can certify from the conversations I had at the time with the writer….
It was this letter which suggested to Reeve to propose to Lord Clarendon the advisability of coming over to Paris himself ‘to see the Emperor and endeavour to settle joint action on the Danish question.’ He wrote also to the same effect to Lord Granville.
_From Lord Granville_
London, April 9th.
My dear Reeve,–Many thanks for your note, and for the suggestion it contains. I [had] already had some talk with Clarendon and Russell on the subject. The first thought that it was too late now, and urged some minor objections, but in my opinion he is wrong, and I hope the matter will be arranged. Yours sincerely,
GRANVILLE.
_From Lord Clarendon_
_London, April 9th._–Your letter is very important. It has been settled at the Cabinet that I shall go over on Tuesday. It is particularly troublesome and inconvenient to me; but I shan’t mind that, if any good is to be done and that the friendly motive of my going is appreciated.
_From M. Fould_
Dimanche [April 10th].
Mon cher Monsieuer,–Je me suis empressé de transmettre à l’empereur la nouvelle que vous voulez bien me donner et qui me fait grand plaisir.
Mille compliments bien désirés,
ACHILLE FOULD.
The visit led to no result, as the French refused to act. The Journal continues:–
_April 20th_.–Interesting day at Versailles with Feuillet de Conches and Soulié; took the Dempsters and Hamiltons of Dalziel.
My father’s old friend Dr. de Roches died at Geneva on April 18th. On the 23rd, Christine and I went to Geneva on a visit to the Binets. Saw Mme. de Roches, who also died a few days afterwards. Returned by Lausanne and Neufchatel to Paris, and home on May 1st.
_From Lord Brougham_
_Paris, May 15th_.–I have been reading the new number of the ‘E. R.,’ and have been greatly interested in it. The review [Footnote: Sc. of Renan’s _Life of Jesus_.] is most ably and learnedly done, though in one or two places a little obscure. But the subject was most difficult to handle, and I think no one can complain of Renan being unfairly treated; indeed he is lavishly praised, though he is rejected–but rejected most candidly.
I have also read the first article, [Footnote: _Diaries of a Lady of Quality._] on Miss Wynn’s book. I am convinced that the facts must be taken with large allowance; some of them are to my personal knowledge erroneously given–from no intention to deceive, but from hasty belief. But there is one story which on the face of it is not only untrue, but impossible; which she appears to have had from a Mrs. Kemble, and to have swallowed whole. How could any being believe in Lord Loughborough’s telling such a tale? Mrs. K. may have, from ignorance, supposed that a prisoner on trial for his life can be examined by the prosecutor’s counsel; but can anyone suppose that such a story as Davison’s murder of his old companion could have happened, and no one even heard of it, or of his being hanged, as he must have been, on his own confession? I knew intimately those friends of Miss Baillie who are said to have been present, and I never heard a word of it from them–probably because they regarded the story as ridiculous.
_From the Comte de Paris_
Claremont, le 23 mai.
Mon cher Monsieur Reeve,–N’ayant pas eu le plaisir de vous rencontrer depuis mon retour d’Espagne, j’ai passé samedi chez vous pour vous parler d’une affaire que j’aurais préféré traiter de vive voix. Ne vous ayant pas trouvé, il me faut aujourd’hui avoir recours à la plume, car le temps presse. Je voulais vous dire que mon mariage avec ma cousine Isabelle sera décidément célébré lundi prochain, le 30 mai. Je n’ai pas _issued_ d’invitations pour assister à cette cérémonie, mais il y a certaines personnes dont la présence serait pour moi une grande satisfaction à cause des anciennes relations qui ont existé entre elles et ma famille. Je n’ai pas besoin de vous dire que vous êtes de ce nombre, mon cher Monsieur Reeve, et surtout après la lettre si aimable que vous m’avez écrite à propos de mon mariage je ne puis me refuser le plaisir de vous avertir de sa célébration, afin que, si vous le pouvez, vous veniez y assister. Si j’avais pu vous en parler de vive voix, je vous aurais mieux dit que je n’ai adressé à personne d’invitation formelle, qu’en vous faisant cette proposition je ne veux vous imposer aucune gêne, mais que par cela même votre présence n’aurait que plus de prix à mes yeux.
Vous m’excuserez de n’avoir cherché ce matin qu’à vous expliquer ma pensée aussi brièvement que possible. En ce temps-ci tous mes moments sont comptés.
La cérémonie aura lieu à la chapelle catholique de Kingston à 10-1/2h. a.m. Le train qui part de Waterloo Station à 9h.40 pour Surbiton arrive à temps.
Votre bien affectionné,
LOUIS PHILIPPE D’ORLÉANS.
As to which the Journal says:–
_May 23rd_–The Raymonds and Mlle. Lebreton came.
_24th_.–Dined with Raymond at Claremont. Great royal dinner; fifty-two persons; was presented to the Infanta Isabella.
_30th_.–Marriage of the Comte de Paris. Banquet at Claremont. Ball at the Duc de Chartres’–Ham House. I drove Chartres from Claremont to the ball.
_June 7th_.–The centenary dinner of The Club; twenty-five members present; Milman in the chair. Lord Brougham was there. I sat between the Bishop of London (Tait) and Eastlake.
There was at this time much sentimental sympathy with Denmark in her unequal struggle against the combined forces of Prussia and Austria; but as France, Russia, and Sweden, which, equally with England, were parties to the treaty of 1852, refused to give Denmark any active support, the practical feeling was that English interests were not involved to such an extent as to render it advisable to assert them by force of arms.
_From Lord Clarendon_
_G. C., June 24th_.–As far as I can make out there is no real war feeling in the country, though a great disposition in the H. of C. to turn out the Government, whether it decides upon being pacific or bellicose; and I expect that a vote of censure, or want of confidence, will be successful. If you hear anything reliable on the subject, pray let me know.
_June 26th_.–The island-occupation plan is very well devised, and if our cat was jumping that way, it would be worthy of very serious consideration; but it won’t do to embark single-handed in such operations…. The peace feeling at home becomes stronger every day, except for mere party purposes, and I don’t believe that sending the fleet to the Baltic even would meet with support, as we are under no obligation to do so; though if German operations were to extend beyond the peninsula, and Copenhagen was menaced, a different policy must, of course, be adopted.
The Journal goes on:–
_July 20th_.–The Duc d’Aumale’s ball to the Prince of Wales; beautiful night.
_21st_.–To Ongar, to see my uncle, Edward Reeve.
_24th_.–Went to Aix by Rotterdam, with W. Wallace; met the James Watneys at Aix. Back by Ostend, August 3rd.
_August 9th_.–Joined Christine and Hopie at Perth, and proceeded to Skibo. Marochetti and Seaforth there. Shot with Marochetti. On the 25th left