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diff --git a/539-h/539-h.htm b/539-h/539-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f53981 --- /dev/null +++ b/539-h/539-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5306 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>A. W. Kinglake, by W. Tuckwell</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook, A. W. Kinglake, by W. Tuckwell + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A. W. Kinglake + A Biographical and Literary Study + + +Author: W. Tuckwell + + + +Release Date: February 21, 2013 [eBook #539] +[This file was first posted on March 23, 1996] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A. W. KINGLAKE*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1902 Edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/fpb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Kinglake in the late Fifties" +title= +"Kinglake in the late Fifties" +src="images/fps.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<h1>A. W. KINGLAKE<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">A BIOGRAPHICAL AND</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">LITERARY STUDY</span></h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY</span><br +/> +REV. W. TUCKWELL</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">AUTHOR OF +“TONGUES IN TREES,” “WINCHESTER FIFTY</span><br +/> +<span class="GutSmall">YEARS AGO,” “REMINISCENCES OF +OXFORD,” ETC.</span></p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">ἁμέραι +δ᾿ +ἐπίλοιποι +μάρτυρες +σοφώτατρο</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p0b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Decorative graphic" +title= +"Decorative graphic" +src="images/p0s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON</p> +<p style="text-align: center">GEORGE BELL AND SONS,</p> +<p style="text-align: center">1902</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="pageiv"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. iv</span><span class="GutSmall">CHISWICK +PRESS: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, +LONDON.</span></p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<h2><a name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +v</span>PREFACE</h2> +<p>It is just eleven years since Kinglake passed away, and his +life has not yet been separately memorialized. A few years +more, and the personal side of him would be irrecoverable, though +by personality, no less than by authorship, he made his +contemporary mark. When a tomb has been closed for +centuries, the effaced lineaments of its tenant can be +re-coloured only by the idealizing hand of genius, as Scott drew +Claverhouse, and Carlyle drew Cromwell. But, to the +biographer of the lately dead, men have a right to say, as Saul +said to the Witch of Endor, “Call up Samuel!” +In your study of a life so recent as Kinglake’s, give us, +if you choose, some critical synopsis of his monumental writings, +some salvage from his ephemeral and scattered papers; trace so +much of his youthful training as shaped the development of his +character; depict, with wise restraint, his political and public +life: but also, and above all, re-clothe him “in his habit +as he lived,” as friends and <a name="pagevi"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. vi</span>associates knew him; recover his +traits of voice and manner, his conversational wit or wisdom, +epigram or paradox, his explosions of sarcasm and his +eccentricities of reserve, his words of winningness and acts of +kindness: and, since one half of his life was social, introduce +us to the companions who shared his lighter hour and evoked his +finer fancies; take us to the Athenæum +“Corner,” or to Holland House, and flash on us at +least a glimpse of the brilliant men and women who formed the +setting to his sparkle; “<i>dic in amicitiam coeant et +foedera jungant</i>.”</p> +<p>This I have endeavoured to do, with such aid as I could +command from his few remaining contemporaries. His letters +to his family were destroyed by his own desire; on those written +to Madame Novikoff no such embargo was laid, nor does she believe +that it was intended. I have used these sparingly, and all +extracts from them have been subjected to her censorship. +If the result is not Attic in salt, it is at any rate Roman in +brevity. I send it forth with John Bunyan’s homely +aspiration:</p> +<blockquote><p>And may its buyer have no cause to say,<br /> +His money is but lost or thrown away.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +vii</span>CONTENTS</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="GutSmall">CHAP.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="GutSmall">PAGE</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">I.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Early Years</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">II.</p> +</td> +<td><p>“<span class="smcap">Eothen</span>”</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page20">20</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">III.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Literary and Parliamentary +Life</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">IV.</p> +</td> +<td><p>“<span class="smcap">The Invasion of the +Crimea</span>”</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page56">56</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">V.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Madame Novikoff</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page90">90</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Later Days, and Death</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page111">111</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Index</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page149">149</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="pageix"></a><span class="pagenum">p. ix</span>LIST +OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Kinglake in the late +Fifties</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>Frontispiece</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Eliot Warburton</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page14">14</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Lord Raglan</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page40">40</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Madame Novikoff</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page92">92</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Kinglake in the Early +Seventies</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page128">128</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>CHAPTER +I<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">EARLY YEARS</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> fourth decade of the deceased +century dawned on a procession of Oriental pilgrims, variously +qualified or disqualified to hold the gorgeous East in fee, who, +with <i>bakshîsh</i> in their purses, a theory in their +brains, an unfilled diary-book in their portmanteaus, sought out +the Holy Land, the Sinai peninsula, the valley of the Nile, +sometimes even Armenia and the Monte Santo, and returned home to +emit their illustrated and mapped octavos. We have the type +delineated admiringly in Miss Yonge’s +“Heartsease,” <a name="citation1"></a><a +href="#footnote1" class="citation">[1]</a> bitterly in Miss +Skene’s “Use and Abuse,” facetiously in the +Clarence Bulbul of “Our Street.” “Hang +it! has not <a name="page2"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +2</span>everybody written an Eastern book? I should like to +meet anybody in society now who has not been up to the Second +Cataract. My Lord Castleroyal has done one—an honest +one; my Lord Youngent another—an amusing one; my Lord +Woolsey another—a pious one; there is the ‘Cutlet and +the Cabob’—a sentimental one; Timbuctoothen—a +humorous one.” Lord Carlisle’s honesty, Lord +Nugent’s fun, Lord Lindsay’s piety, failed to float +their books. Miss Martineau, clear, frank, unemotional +Curzon, fuddling the Levantine monks with rosoglio that he might +fleece them of their treasured hereditary manuscripts, even Eliot +Warburton’s power, colouring, play of fancy, have yielded +to the mobility of Time. Two alone out of the gallant +company maintain their vogue to-day: Stanley’s “Sinai +and Palestine,” as a Fifth Gospel, an inspired Scripture +Gazetteer; and “Eothen,” as a literary gem of purest +ray serene.</p> +<p>In 1898 a reprint of the first edition was given to the +public, prefaced by a brief eulogium of the book and a slight +notice of the author. It brought to the writer of the +“Introduction” not only kind and indulgent criticism, +but valuable corrections, fresh facts, <a name="page3"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 3</span>clues to further knowledge. +These last have been carefully followed out. The unwary +statement that Kinglake never spoke after his first failure in +the House has been atoned by a careful study of all his speeches +in and out of Parliament. His reviews in the +“Quarterly” and elsewhere have been noted; +impressions of his manner and appearance at different periods of +his life have been recovered from coæval acquaintances; his +friend Hayward’s Letters, the numerous allusions in Lord +Houghton’s Life, Mrs. Crosse’s lively chapters in +“Red Letter Days of my Life,” Lady Gregory’s +interesting recollections of the Athenæum Club in Blackwood +of December, 1895, the somewhat slender notice in the +“Dictionary of National Biography,” have all been +carefully digested. From these, and, as will be seen, from +other sources, the present Memoir has been compiled; an +endeavour—<i>sera tamen</i>—to lay before the +countless readers and admirers of his books a fairly adequate +appreciation, hitherto unattempted, of their author.</p> +<p>I have to acknowledge the great kindness of Canon William +Warburton, who examined his brother Eliot’s diaries on my +behalf, obtained information from Dean Boyle and Sir <a +name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 4</span>M. Grant Duff, +cleared up for me not a few obscure allusions in the +“Eothen” pages. My highly valued friend, Mrs. +Hamilton Kinglake, of Taunton, his sister-in-law, last surviving +relative of his own generation, has helped me with facts which no +one else could have recalled. To Mr. Estcott, his old +acquaintance and Somersetshire neighbour, I am indebted for +recollections manifold and interesting; but above all I tender +thanks to Madame Novikoff, his intimate associate and +correspondent during the last twenty years of his life, who has +supplemented her brilliant sketch of him in “La Nouvelle +Revue” of 1896 by oral and written information lavish in +quantity and of paramount biographical value. +Kinglake’s external life, his literary and political +career, his speeches, and the more fugitive productions of his +pen, were recoverable from public sources; but his personal and +private side, as it showed itself to the few close intimates who +still survive, must have remained to myself and others meagre, +superficial, disappointing, without Madame Novikoff’s +unreserved and sympathetic confidence.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Alexander William Kinglake was descended <a +name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 5</span>from an old +Scottish stock, the Kinlochs, who migrated to England with King +James, and whose name was Anglicized into Kinglake. Later +on we find them settled on a considerable estate of their own at +Saltmoor, near Borobridge, whence towards the close of the +eighteenth century two brothers, moving southward, made their +home in Taunton—Robert as a physician, William as a +solicitor and banker. Both were of high repute, both begat +famous sons. From Robert sprang the eminent Parliamentary +lawyer, Serjeant John Kinglake, at one time a contemporary with +Cockburn and Crowder on the Western Circuit, and William Chapman +Kinglake, who while at Trinity, Cambridge, won the Latin verse +prize, “Salix Babylonica,” the English verse prizes +on “Byzantium” and the “Taking of +Jerusalem,” in 1830 and 1832. Of William’s sons +the eldest was Alexander William, author of “Eothen,” +the youngest Hamilton, for many years one of the most +distinguished physicians in the West of England. +“Eothen,” as he came to be called, was born at +Taunton on the 5th August, 1809, at a house called “The +Lawn.” His father, a sturdy Whig, died at the age of +ninety through injuries received in the hustings crowd <a +name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 6</span>of a contested +election. His mother belonged to an old Somersetshire +family, the Woodfordes of Castle Cary. She, too, lived to a +great age; a slight, neat figure in dainty dress, full of antique +charm and grace. As a girl she had known Lady Hester +Stanhope, who lived with her grandmother, Lady Chatham, at Burton +Pynsent, her own father, Dr. Thomas Woodforde, being Lady +Chatham’s medical attendant. <a name="citation6"></a><a +href="#footnote6" class="citation">[6]</a> The future +prophetess of the Lebanon was then a wild girl, scouring the +countryside on bare-backed horses; she showed great kindness to +Mary Woodforde, afterwards Kinglake’s mother. It was +as his mother’s son that she received him long afterwards +at Djoun. To his mother Kinglake was passionately attached; +owed to her, as he tells us in “Eothen,” his home in +the <a name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 7</span>saddle +and his love for Homer. A tradition is preserved in the +family that on the day of her funeral, at a churchyard five miles +away, he was missed from the household group reassembled in the +mourning home; he was found to have ordered his horse, and +galloped back in the darkness to his mother’s grave. +Forty years later he writes to Alexander Knox: “The death +of a mother has an almost magical power of recalling the home of +one’s childhood, and the almost separate world that rests +upon affection.” Of his two sisters, one was well +read and agreeably talkative, noted by Thackeray as the cleverest +woman he had ever met; the other, Mrs. Acton, was a delightful +old <i>esprit fort</i>, as I knew her in the sixties, +“pagan, I regret to say,” but not a little resembling +her brother in the point and manner of her wit. The family +moved in his infancy to an old-fashioned handsome “Wilton +House,” adjoining closely to the town, but standing amid +spacious park-like grounds, and inhabited in after years by +Kinglake’s younger brother Hamilton, who succeeded his +uncle in the medical profession, and passed away, amid deep and +universal regret, in 1898. Here during the thirties Sydney +Smith was a frequent and a welcome visitor; <a +name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 8</span>it was in +answer to old Mrs. Kinglake that he uttered his audacious +<i>mot</i> on being asked if he would object, as a neighbouring +clergyman had done, to bury a Dissenter: “Not bury +Dissenters? I should like to be burying them all +day!”</p> +<p>Taunton was an innutrient foster-mother, <i>arida nutrix</i>, +for such young lions as the Kinglake brood. Two hundred +years before it had been a prosperous and famous place, its +woollen and kersey trades, with the population they supported, +ranking it as eighth in order among English towns. Its +inhabitants were then a gallant race, republican in politics, +Puritan in creed. Twice besieged by Goring and Lumford, it +had twice repelled the Royalists with loss. It was the +centre of Monmouth’s rebellion and of Jeffrey’s +vengeance; the suburb of Tangier, hard by its ancient castle, +still recalls the time when Colonel Kirke and his regiment of +“Lambs” were quartered in the town. But long +before the advent of the Kinglakes its glory had departed; its +manufactures had died out, its society become Philistine and +bourgeois—“little men who walk in narrow +ways”—while from pre-eminence in electoral venality +among English boroughs it <a name="page9"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 9</span>was saved only by the near proximity +of Bridgewater. A noted statesman who, at a later period, +represented it in Parliament, used to say that by only one family +besides Dr. Hamilton Kinglake’s could he be received with +any sense of social or intellectual equality.</p> +<p>Not much, however, of Kinglake’s time was given to his +native town: he was early sent to the Grammar School at Ottery +St. Mary’s, the “Clavering” of +“Pendennis,” whose Dr. Wapshot was George Coleridge, +brother of the poet. He was wont in after life to speak of +this time with bitterness; a delicate child, he was starved on +insufficient diet; and an eloquent passage in +“Eothen” depicts his intellectual fall from the +varied interests and expanding enthusiasm of liberal home +teaching to the regulation gerund-grinding and Procrustean +discipline of school. “The dismal change is ordained, +and then—thin meagre Latin with small shreds and patches of +Greek, is thrown like a pauper’s pall over all your early +lore; instead of sweet knowledge, vile, monkish, doggerel +grammars and graduses, dictionaries and lexicons, and horrible +odds and ends of dead languages are given you for your portion, +and down you fall, from Roman story to a three-inch scrap of +‘Scriptores <a name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +10</span>Romani,’—from Greek poetry, down, down to +the cold rations of ‘Poetæ Græci,’ cut up +by commentators, and served out by school-masters!”</p> +<p>At Eton—under Keate, as all readers of +“Eothen” know—he was contemporary with +Gladstone, Sir F. Hanmer, Lords Canning and Dalhousie, Selwyn, +Shadwell. He wrote in the “Etonian,” created +and edited by Mackworth Praed; and is mentioned in Praed’s +poem on Surly Hall as</p> +<blockquote><p>“Kinglake, dear to poetry,<br /> +And dear to all his friends.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Dr. Gatty remembers his “determined pale face”; +thinks that he made his mark on the river rather than in the +playing fields, being a good oar and swimmer. His great +friend at school was Savile, the “Methley” of his +travels, who became successively Lord Pollington and Earl of +Mexborough. The Homeric lore which Methley exhibited in the +Troad, is curiously illustrated by an Eton story, that in a +pugilistic encounter with Hoseason, afterwards an Indian Cavalry +officer, while the latter sate between the rounds upon his +second’s knee, Savile strutted about the ring, spouting +Homer.</p> +<p>Kinglake entered at Trinity, Cambridge, in <a +name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span>1828, among +an exceptionally brilliant set—Tennyson, Arthur Hallam, +John Sterling, Trench, Spedding, Spring Rice, Charles Buller, +Maurice, Monckton Milnes, J. M. Kemble, Brookfield, +Thompson. With none of them does he seem in his +undergraduate days to have been intimate. Probably then, as +afterwards, he shrank from <i>camaraderie</i>, shared +Byron’s distaste for “enthusymusy”; naturally +cynical and self-contained, was repelled by the spiritual +fervour, incessant logical collision, aggressive tilting at +abuses of those young “Apostles,” already</p> +<blockquote><p>“Yearning for the large excitement that the +coming years would yield,<br /> +Eager-hearted as a boy when first he leaves his father’s +field,”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>waxing ever daily, as Sterling exhorted, “in religion +and radicalism.” He saw life differently; more +practically, if more selfishly; to one rhapsodizing about the +“plain living and high thinking” of +Wordsworth’s sonnet, he answered: “You know that you +prefer dining with people who have good glass and china and +plenty of servants.” For Tennyson’s poetry he +even then felt admiration; quotes, nay, misquotes, in +“Eothen,” from the little <a name="page12"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 12</span>known “Timbuctoo”; <a +name="citation12a"></a><a href="#footnote12a" +class="citation">[12a]</a> and from “Locksley Hall”; +and supplied long afterwards an incident adopted by Tennyson in +“Enoch Arden,”</p> +<blockquote><p>“Once likewise in the ringing of his ears<br +/> +Though faintly, merrily—far and far away—<br /> +He heard the pealing of his parish bells,” <a +name="citation12b"></a><a href="#footnote12b" +class="citation">[12b]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 13</span>from +his own experience in the desert, when on a Sunday, amid +overpowering heat and stillness, he heard the Marlen bells of +Taunton peal for morning church. <a name="citation13"></a><a +href="#footnote13" class="citation">[13]</a></p> +<p>In whatever set he may have lived he made his mark at +Cambridge. Lord Houghton remembered him as an orator at the +Union; and speaking to Cambridge undergraduates fifty years +later, after enumerating the giants of his student days, +Macaulay, Praed, Buller, Sterling, Merivale, he goes on to say: +“there, too, were Kemble and Kinglake, the historian of our +earliest civilization and of our latest war; Kemble as +interesting an individual as ever was portrayed by the dramatic +genius of his own race; Kinglake, as bold a man-at-arms in +literature as ever confronted public opinion.” We +know, too, that not many years after leaving Cambridge he +received, and refused, a solicitation to stand as Liberal +representative of the University in Parliament. He was, in +fact, as far as any of his contemporaries from acquiescing in +social conventionalisms and shams. To the end of his life +he chafed at such restraint: “when pressed to stay in +country houses,” he writes in 1872, “I have had the +<a name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 14</span>frankness +to say that I have not discipline enough.” Repeatedly +he speaks with loathing of the “stale civilization,” +the “utter respectability,” of European life; <a +name="citation14a"></a><a href="#footnote14a" +class="citation">[14a]</a> longed with all his soul for the +excitement and stir of soldiership, from which his +shortsightedness debarred him; <a name="citation14b"></a><a +href="#footnote14b" class="citation">[14b]</a> rushed off again +and again into foreign travel; set out immediately on leaving +Cambridge, in 1834, for his first Eastern tour, “to fortify +himself for the business of life.” Methley joined him +at Hamburg, and they travelled by Berlin, Dresden, Prague, +Vienna, to Semlin, where his book begins. Lord +Pollington’s health broke down, and he remained to winter +at Corfu, while Kinglake pursued his way alone, returning to +England in October, 1835. <a name="citation14c"></a><a +href="#footnote14c" class="citation">[14c]</a> On his +return he read for the Chancery Bar along with his friend Eliot +Warburton, under Bryan <a name="page15"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 15</span>Procter, a Commissioner of Lunacy, +better known by his poet-name, Barry Cornwall; his acquaintance +with both husband and wife ripening into life-long +friendship. Mrs. Procter is the “Lady of +Bitterness,” cited in the “Eothen” +Preface. As Anne Skepper, before her marriage, she was much +admired by Carlyle; “a brisk witty prettyish clear eyed +sharp tongued young lady”; and was the intimate, among +many, especially of Thackeray and Browning. In epigrammatic +power she resembled Kinglake; but while his acrid sayings were +emitted with gentlest aspect and with softest speech; while, like +Byron’s Lambro:</p> +<blockquote><p> “he was +the mildest mannered man<br /> +That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat,<br /> +With such true breeding of a gentleman,<br /> +You never could divine his real thought,”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>her sarcasms rang out with a resonant clearness that enforced +and aggravated their severity. That two persons so strongly +resembling each other in capacity for rival exhibition, or for +mutual exasperation, should have maintained so firm a friendship, +often surprised their acquaintance; she explained it by saying +that she and Kinglake sharpened one another like two knives; +that, in the words of Petruchio,</p> +<blockquote><p><a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +16</span>“Where two raging fires meet together,<br /> +They do consume the thing that feeds their fury.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p14b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Eliot Warburton. From a water-colour drawing in the possession +of Canon Warburton" +title= +"Eliot Warburton. From a water-colour drawing in the possession +of Canon Warburton" +src="images/p14s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>Crabb Robinson, stung by her in a tender place, his boastful +iterative monologues on Weimar and on Goethe, said that of all +men Procter ought to escape purgatory after death, having tasted +its fulness here through living so many years with Mrs. Procter; +“the husbands of the talkative have great reward +hereafter,” said Rudyard Kipling’s Lama. And I +have been told by those who knew the pair that there was truth as +well as irritation in the taunt. “A graceful Preface +to ‘Eothen,’” wrote to me a now famous lady who +as a girl had known Mrs. Procter well, “made friendly +company yesterday to a lonely meal, and brought back memories of +Mr. Kinglake’s kind spoiling of a raw young woman, and of +the wit, the egregious vanity, the coarseness, the kindness, of +that hard old worldling our Lady of Bitterness.” In +the presence of one man, Tennyson, she laid aside her +shrewishness: “talking with Alfred Tennyson lifts me out of +the earth earthy; a visit to Farringford is like a retreat to the +religious.” A celebrity in London for fifty years, +she died, witty and vigorous to the last, in 1888. +“You and I and Mr. Kinglake,” she says to Lord +Houghton, <a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +17</span>“are all that are left of the goodly band that +used to come to St. John’s Wood; Eliot Warburton, Motley, +Adelaide, Count de Verg, Chorley, Sir Edwin Landseer, my +husband.” “I never could write a book,” +she tells him in another letter, “and one strong reason for +not doing so was the idea of some few seeing how poor it +was. Venables was one of the few; I need not say that you +were one, and Kinglake.”</p> +<p>Kinglake was called to the Chancery Bar, and practised +apparently with no great success. He believed that his +reputation as a writer stood in his way. When, in 1845, +poor Hood’s friends were helping him by gratuitous articles +in his magazine, “Hood’s Own,” Kinglake wrote +to Monckton Milnes refusing to contribute. He will send +£10 to buy an article from some competent writer, but will +not himself write. “It would be seriously injurious +to me if the author of ‘Eothen’ were +<i>affichéd</i> as contributing to a magazine. My +frailty in publishing a book has, I fear, already hurt me in my +profession, and a small sin of this kind would bring on me still +deeper disgrace with the solicitors.”</p> +<p>Twice at least in these early years he travelled. +“Mr. Kinglake,” writes Mrs. Procter <a +name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 18</span>in 1843, +“is in Switzerland, reading Rousseau.” And in +the following year we hear of him in Algeria, accompanying St. +Arnaud in his campaign against the Arabs. The mingled +interest and horror inspired in him by this extra-ordinary man +finds expression in his “Invasion of the Crimea” (ii. +157). A few, a very few survivors, still remember his +appearance and manners in the forties. The eminent husband +of a lady, now passed away, who in her lifetime gave Sunday +dinners at which Kinglake was always present, speaks of him as +<i>sensitive</i>, quiet in the presence of noisy people, of +Brookfield and the overpowering Bernal Osborne; liking their +company, but never saying anything worthy of remembrance. A +popular old statesman, still active in the House of Commons, +recalls meeting him at Palmerston, Lord Harrington’s seat, +where was assembled a party in honour of Madame Guiccioli and her +second husband, the Marquis de Boissy, and tells me that he +attached himself to ladies, not to gentlemen, nor ever joined in +general tattle. Like many other famous men, he passed +through a period of shyness, which yielded to women’s +tactfulness only. From the first they appreciated him; +“if you were as gentle as your friend Kinglake,” <a +name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 19</span>writes Mrs. +Norton reproachfully to Hayward in the sulks. Another +coæval of those days calls him handsome—an epithet I +should hardly apply to him later—slight, not tall, sharp +featured, with dark hair well tended, always modishly dressed +after the fashion of the thirties, the fashion of Bulwer’s +exquisites, or of H. K. Browne’s “Nicholas +Nickleby” illustrations; leaving on all who saw him an +impression of great personal distinction, yet with an air of +youthful <i>abandon</i> which never quite left him: “He was +pale, small, and delicate in appearance,” says Mrs. +Simpson, Nassau Senior’s daughter, who knew him to the end +of his life; while Mrs. Andrew Crosse, his friend in the Crimean +decade, cites his finely chiselled features and intellectual +brow, “a complexion bloodless with the pallor not of +ill-health, but of an old Greek bust.”</p> +<h2><a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +20</span>CHAPTER II<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">“EOTHEN”</span></h2> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Eothen</span>” appeared in +1844. Twice, Kinglake tells us, he had essayed the story of +his travels, twice abandoned it under a sense of strong +disinclination to write. A third attempt was induced by an +entreaty from his friend Eliot Warburton, himself projecting an +Eastern tour; and to Warburton in a characteristic preface the +narrative is addressed. The book, when finished, went the +round of the London market without finding a publisher. It +was offered to John Murray, who cited his refusal of it as the +great blunder of his professional life, consoling himself with +the thought that his father had equally lacked foresight thirty +years before in declining the “Rejected Addresses”; +he secured the copyright later on. It was published in the +end by a personal friend, Ollivier, of Pall Mall, Kinglake paying +£50 to cover risk of loss; even worse terms than were +obtained by <a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +21</span>Warburton two years afterwards from Colburn, who owned +in the fifties to having cleared £6,000 by “The +Crescent and the Cross.” The volume was an octavo of +418 pages; the curious folding-plate which forms the frontispiece +was drawn and coloured by the author, and was compared by the +critics to a tea-tray. In front is Moostapha the Tatar; the +two foremost figures in the rear stand for accomplished Mysseri, +whom Kinglake was delighted to recognize long afterwards as a +flourishing hotel keeper in Constantinople, and Steel, the +Yorkshire servant, in his striped pantry jacket, “looking +out for gentlemen’s seats.” Behind are +“Methley,” Lord Pollington, in a broad-brimmed hat, +and the booted leg of Kinglake, who modestly hid his figure by a +tree, but exposed his foot, of which he was very proud. Of +the other characters, “Our Lady of Bitterness” was +Mrs. Procter, “Carrigaholt” was Henry Stuart Burton +of Carrigaholt, County Clare. Here and there are allusions, +obvious at the time, now needing a scholiast, which have not in +any of the reprints been explained. In their ride through +the Balkans they talked of old Eton days. “We bullied +Keate, and scoffed at Larrey Miller and Okes; we rode along +loudly laughing, <a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +22</span>and talked to the grave Servian forest as though it were +the Brocas clump.” <a name="citation22"></a><a +href="#footnote22" class="citation">[22]</a> Keate requires +no interpreter; Okes was an Eton tutor, afterwards Provost of +King’s. Larrey or Laurie Miller was an old tailor in +Keate’s Lane who used to sit on his open shop-board, facing +the street, a mark for the compliments of passing boys; as +frolicsome youngsters in the days of Addison and Steele, as High +School lads in the days of Walter Scott, were accustomed to +“smoke the cobler.” The Brocas was a meadow +sacred to badger-baiting and cat-hunts. The badgers were +kept by a certain Jemmy Flowers, who charged sixpence for each +“draw”; Puss was turned out of a bag and chased by +dogs, her chance being to reach and climb a group of trees near +the river, known as the “Brocas Clump.” Of the +quotations, “a Yorkshireman hippodamoio” (p. 35) is, +I am told, an <i>obiter dictum</i> of Sir Francis Doyle. +“Striving to attain,” etc. (p. 33), is taken not +quite correctly from Tennyson’s +“Timbuctoo.” Our crew were “a solemn +company” (p. 57) is probably a reminiscence of “we +were a gallant company” in “The Siege of +Corinth.” For “‘the own armchair’ +of our Lyrist’s ‘Sweet Lady <a +name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +23</span>Anne’” (p. 161) see the poem, “My own +armchair” in Barry Cornwall’s “English +Lyrics.” “Proud Marie of Anjou” (p. 96) +and “single-sin —” (p. 121), are +unintelligible; a friend once asked Kinglake to explain the +former, but received for answer, “Oh! that is a private +thing.” It may, however, have been a pet name for +little Marie de Viry, Procter’s niece, and the +<i>chère amie</i> of his verse, whom Eothen must have met +often at his friend’s house. The St. Simonians of p. +83 were the disciples of Comte de St. Simon, a Parisian reformer +in the latter part of the eighteenth century, who endeavoured to +establish a social republic based on capacity and labour. +Père Enfantin was his disciple. The “mystic +mother” was a female Messiah, expected to become the parent +of a new Saviour. “Sir Robert once said a good +thing” (p. 93), refers possibly to Sir Robert Peel, not +famous for epigram, whose one good thing is said to have been +bestowed upon a friend before Croker’s portrait in the +Academy. “Wonderful likeness,” said the friend, +“it gives the very quiver of the mouth.” +“Yes,” said Sir Robert, “and the arrow coming +out of it.” Or it may mean Sir Robert Inglis, +Peel’s successor at Oxford, more noted for <a +name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 24</span>his genial +kindness and for the perpetual bouquet in his buttonhole at a +date when such ornaments were not worn, than for capacity to +conceive and say good things. In some mischievous lines +describing the Oxford election where Inglis supplanted Peel, +Macaulay wrote</p> +<blockquote><p>“And then said all the Doctors sitting in +the Divinity School,<br /> +Not this man, but Sir Robert’—now Sir Robert was a +fool.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But in the fifth and later editions Kinglake altered it to +“Sir John.”</p> +<p>By a curious oversight in the first two editions (p. 41) +<i>Jove</i> was made to gaze on Troy from Samothrace; it was +rightly altered to Neptune in the third; and “eagle eye of +Jove” in the following sentence was replaced by +“dread Commoter of our globe.” The phrase +“a natural Chiffney-bit” (p. 109), I have found +unintelligible to-day through lapse of time even to professional +equestrians and stable-keepers. Samuel Chiffney, a famous +rider and trainer, was born in 1753, and won the Derby on +Skyscraper in 1789. He managed the Prince of Wales’s +stud, was the subject of discreditable insinuations, and was +called before the Jockey <a name="page25"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 25</span>Club. Nothing was proved +against him, but in consequence of the <i>fracas</i> the Prince +severed his connection with the Club and sold his horses. +Chiffney invented a bit named after him; a curb with two +snaffles, which gave a stronger bearing on the sides of a +horse’s mouth. His rule in racing was to keep a slack +rein and to ride a waiting race, not calling on his horse till +near the end. His son Samuel, who followed him, observed +the same plan; from its frequent success the term “Chiffney +rush” became proverbial. In his ride through the +desert (p. 169) Kinglake speaks of his “native +bells—the innocent bells of Marlen, that never before sent +forth their music beyond the Blaygon hills.” Marlen +bells is the local name for the fine peal of St. Mary Magdalen, +Taunton. The Blaygon, more commonly called the Blagdon +Hills, run parallel with the Quantocks, and between them lies the +fertile Vale of Taunton Deane. “Damascus,” he +says, on p. 245, “was safer than Oxford”; and adds a +note on Mr. Everett’s degree which requires +correction. It is true that an attempt was made to +<i>non-placet</i> Mr. Everett’s honorary degree in the +Oxford Theatre in 1843 on the ground of his being a Unitarian; +not true that it succeeded. <a name="page26"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 26</span>It was a conspiracy by the young +lions of the Newmania, who had organized a formidable opposition +to the degree, and would have created a painful scene even if +defeated. But the Proctor of that year, Jelf, happened to +be the most-hated official of the century; and the furious groans +of undergraduate displeasure at his presence, continuing unabated +for three-quarters of an hour, compelled Wynter, the +Vice-Chancellor, to break up the Assembly, without recitation of +the prizes, but not without conferring the degrees in dumb show: +unconscious Mr. Everett smilingly took his place in red gown +among the Doctors, the Vice-Chancellor asserting afterwards, what +was true in the letter though not in the spirit, that he did not +hear the <i>non-placets</i>. So while Everett was obnoxious +to the Puseyites, Jelf was obnoxious to the undergraduates; the +cannonade of the angry youngsters drowned the odium of the +theological malcontents; in the words of Bombastes:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Another lion gave another roar,<br /> +And the first lion thought the last a bore.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The popularity of “Eothen” is a paradox: it +fascinates by violating all the rules which <a +name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 27</span>convention +assigns to viatic narrative. It traverses the most +affecting regions of the world, and describes no one of them: the +Troad—and we get only his childish raptures over +Pope’s “Homer’s Iliad”; +Stamboul—and he recounts the murderous services rendered by +the Golden Horn to the Assassin whose <i>serail</i>, palace, +council chamber, it washes; Cairo—but the Plague shuts out +all other thoughts; Jerusalem—but Pilgrims have vulgarized +the Holy Sepulchre into a Bartholomew Fair. He gives us +everywhere, not history, antiquities, geography, description, +statistics, but only <i>Kinglake</i>, only his own sensations, +thoughts, experiences. We are told not what the desert +looks like, but what journeying in the desert feels like. +From morn till eve you sit aloft upon your voyaging camel; the +risen sun, still lenient on your left, mounts vertical and +dominant; you shroud head and face in silk, your skin glows, +shoulders ache, Arabs moan, and still moves on the sighing camel +with his disjointed awkward dual swing, till the sun once more +descending touches you on the right, your veil is thrown aside, +your tent is pitched, books, maps, cloaks, toilet luxuries, +litter your spread-out rugs, you feast on scorching <a +name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 28</span>toast and +“fragrant” <a name="citation28"></a><a +href="#footnote28" class="citation">[28]</a> tea, sleep sound and +long; then again the tent is drawn, the comforts packed, +civilization retires from the spot she had for a single night +annexed, and the Genius of the Desert stalks in.</p> +<p>Herein, in these subjective chatty confidences, is part of the +spell he lays upon us: while we read we are <i>in</i> the East: +other books, as Warburton says, tell us <i>about</i> the East, +this is the East itself. And yet in his company we are +always <i>Englishmen</i> in the East: behind Servian, Egyptian, +Syrian, desert realities, is a background of English scenery, +faint and unobtrusive yet persistent and horizoning. In the +Danubian forest we talk of past school-days. The Balkan +plain suggests an English park, its trees planted as if to shut +out “some infernal fellow creature in the shape of a +new-made squire”; Jordan recalls the Thames; the Galilean +Lake, Windermere; the Via Dolorosa, Bond Street; the fresh toast +of the desert bivouac, an Eton breakfast; the hungry questing +jackals are the place-hunters of Bridgewater and Taunton; the +Damascus gardens, a neglected English <a name="page29"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 29</span>manor from which the +“family” has been long abroad; in the fierce, dry +desert air are heard the “Marlen” bells of home, +calling to morning prayer the prim congregation in far-off St. +Mary’s parish. And a not less potent factor in the +charm is the magician’s self who wields it, shown through +each passing environment of the narrative; the shy, haughty, +imperious Solitary, “a sort of Byron in the desert,” +of cultured mind and eloquent speech, headstrong and not always +amiable, hiding sentiment with cynicism, yet therefore +irresistible all the more when he condescends to endear himself +by his confidence. He meets the Plague and its terrors like +a gentleman, but shows us, through the vicarious torments of the +cowering Levantine that it was courage and coolness, not +insensibility, which bore him through it. A foe to +marriage, compassionating Carrigaholt as doomed to travel +“Vetturini-wise,” pitying the Dead Sea goatherd for +his ugly wife, revelling in the meek surrender of the three young +men whom he sees “led to the altar” in Suez, he is +still the frank, susceptible, gallant bachelor, observantly and +critically studious of female charms: of the magnificent yet +formidable Smyrniotes, eyes, brow, nostrils, throat, sweetly <a +name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 30</span>turned lips, +alarming in their latent capacity for fierceness, pride, passion, +power: of the Moslem women in Nablous, “so handsome that +they could not keep up their yashmaks:” of Cypriote +witchery in hair, shoulder-slope, tempestuous fold of robe. +He opines as he contemplates the plain, clumsy Arab wives that +the fine things we feel and say of women apply only to the +good-looking and the graceful: his memory wanders off ever and +again to the muslin sleeves and bodices and “sweet +chemisettes” in distant England. In hands sensual and +vulgar the allusions might have been coarse, the dilatings +unseemly; but the “taste which is the feminine of +genius,” the self-respecting gentleman-like instinct, +innocent at once and playful, keeps the voluptuary out of sight, +teaches, as Imogen taught Iachimo, “the wide difference +‘twixt amorous and villainous.” Add to all +these elements of fascination the unbroken luxuriance of style; +the easy flow of casual epigram or negligent simile;—Greek +holy days not kept holy but “kept stupid”; the mule +who “forgot that his rider was a saint and remembered that +he was a tailor”; the pilgrims “transacting their +salvation” at the Holy Sepulchre; the frightened, <a +name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 31</span>wavering +guard at Satalieh, not shrinking back or running away, but +“looking as if the pack were being shuffled,” each +man desirous to change places with his neighbour; the white +man’s unresisting hand “passed round like a claret +jug” by the hospitable Arabs; the travellers dripping from +a Balkan storm compared to “men turned back by the Humane +Society as being incurably drowned.” Sometimes he +breaks into a canter, as in the first experience of a Moslem +city, the rapturous escape from respectability and civilization; +the apostrophe to the Stamboul sea; the glimpse of the Mysian +Olympus; the burial of the poor dead Greek; the Janus view of +Orient and Occident from the Lebanon watershed; the pathetic +terror of Bedouins and camels on entering a walled city; until, +once more in the saddle, and winding through the Taurus defiles, +he saddens us by a first discordant note, the note of sorrow that +the entrancing tale is at an end.</p> +<p>Old times return to me as I handle the familiar pages. +To the schoolboy six and fifty years ago arrives from home a +birthday gift, the bright green volume, with its showy paintings +of the impaled robbers and the Jordan passage; its bulky Tatar, +towering high above <a name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +32</span>his scraggy steed, impressed in shining gold upon its +cover. Read, borrowed, handed round, it is devoured and +discussed with fifth form critical presumption, the adventurous +audacity arresting, the literary charm not analyzed but felt, the +vivid personality of the old Etonian winged with public school +freemasonry. Scarcely in the acquired insight of all the +intervening years could those who enjoyed it then more keenly +appreciate it to-day. Transcendent gift of genius! to +gladden equally with selfsame words the reluctant inexperience of +boyhood and the fastidious judgment of maturity. Delightful +self-accountant reverence of author-craft! which wields full +knowledge of a shaddock-tainted world, yet presents no licence to +the prurient lad, reveals no trail to the suspicious +moralist.</p> +<h2><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +33</span>CHAPTER III<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">LITERARY AND PARLIAMENTARY +LIFE</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Kinglake</span> returned from Algiers in +1844 to find himself famous both in the literary and social +world; for his book had gone through three editions and was the +universal theme. Lockhart opened to him the +“Quarterly.” “Who is Eothen?” wrote +Macvey Napier, editor of the “Edinburgh,” to Hayward: +“I know he is a lawyer and highly respectable; but I should +like to know a little more of his personal history: he is very +clever but very peculiar.” Thackeray, later on, +expresses affectionate gratitude for his presence at the +“Lectures on English Humourists”:—“it +goes to a man’s heart to find amongst his friends such men +as Kinglake and Venables, Higgins, Rawlinson, Carlyle, Ashburton +and Hallam, Milman, Macaulay, Wilberforce, looking on +kindly.” He dines out in all directions, himself +giving dinners at Long’s Hotel. “Did you ever +meet <a name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +34</span>Kinglake at my rooms?” writes Monckton Milnes to +MacCarthy: “he has had immense success. I now rather +wish I had written his book, <i>which I could have done—at +least nearly</i>.” We are reminded of Charles +Lamb—“here’s Wordsworth says he could have +written Hamlet, <i>if he had had a mind</i>.” +“A delightful Voltairean volume,” Milnes elsewhere +calls it.</p> +<p>“Eothen” was reviewed in the +“Quarterly” by Eliot Warburton. “Other +books,” he says, “contain facts and statistics about +the East; this book gives the East itself in vital actual +reality. Its style is conversational; or the soliloquy +rather of a man convincing and amusing himself as he proceeds, +without reverence for others’ faith, or lenity towards +others’ prejudices. It is a real book, not a sham; it +equals Anastasius, rivals ‘Vathek;’ its terseness, +vigour, bold imagery, recall the grand style of Fuller and of +South, to which the author adds a spirit, freshness, delicacy, +all his own.” Kinglake, in turn, reviewed “The +Crescent and the Cross” in an article called “The +French Lake.” From a cordial notice of the book he +passes to a history of French ambition in the Levant. It +was Bonaparte’s fixed idea to become an Oriental +conqueror—a <a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +35</span>second Alexander: Egypt in his grasp, he would pass on +to India. He sought alliance against the English with +Tippoo Saib, and spent whole days stretched upon maps of +Asia. He was baffled, first at Aboukir, then at Acre; but +the partition of Turkey at Tilsit showed that he had not +abandoned his design. To have refrained from seizing Egypt +after his withdrawal was a political blunder on the part of +England.</p> +<p>By far the most charming of Kinglake’s articles was a +paper on the “Rights of Women,” in the +“Quarterly Review” of December, 1844. Grouping +together Monckton Milnes’s “Palm Leaves,” Mrs. +Poole’s “Sketch of Egyptian Harems,” Mrs. +Ellis’s “Women and Wives of England,” he +produced a playful, lightly touched, yet sincerely constructed +sketch of woman’s characteristics, seductions, attainments; +the extent and secret of her fascination and her deeper +influence; her defects, foibles, misconceptions. He was +greatly vexed to learn that his criticism of “Palm +Leaves” was considered hostile, and begged Warburton to +explain. His praise, he said, had been looked upon as +irony, his bantering taken to express bitterness. Warburton +added his own <a name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +36</span>conviction that the notice was tributary to +Milnes’s fame, and Milnes accepted the explanation. +But the chief interest of this paper lies in the beautiful +passage which ends it. “The world must go on its own +way, for all that we can say against it. Beauty, though it +beams over the organization of a doll, will have its hour of +empire; the most torpid heiress will easily get herself married; +but the wife whose sweet nature can kindle worthy delights is she +that brings to her hearth a joyous, hopeful, ardent spirit, and +that subtle power whose sources we can hardly trace, but which +yet so irradiates a home that all who come near are filled and +inspired by a deep sense of womanly presence. We best learn +the unsuspected might of a being like this when we try the weight +of that sadness which hangs like lead upon the room, the gallery, +the stairs, where once her footstep sounded, and now is heard no +more. It is not less the energy than the grace and +gentleness of this character that works the enchantment. +Books can instruct, and books can exalt and purify; beauty of +face and beauty of form will come with bright pictures and +statues, and for the government of a household hired menials will +suffice; but fondness and <a name="page37"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 37</span>hate, daring hopes, lively fears, the +lust of glory and the scorn of base deeds, sweet charity, +faithfulness, pride, and, chief over all, the impetuous will, +lending might and power to feeling:—these are the rib of +the man, and from these, deep veiled in the mystery of her very +loveliness, his true companion sprang. A being thus ardent +will often go wrong in her strenuous course; will often alarm, +sometimes provoke; will now and then work mischief and even +perhaps grievous harm; but she will be our own Eve after all; the +sweet-speaking tempter whom heaven created to be the joy and the +trouble of this pleasing anxious existence; to shame us away from +the hiding-places of a slothful neutrality, and lead us abroad in +the world, men militant here on earth, enduring quiet, content +with strife, and looking for peace hereafter.” <a +name="citation37"></a><a href="#footnote37" +class="citation">[37]</a> Beautiful words indeed! how came +the author of a tribute so caressingly appreciative, so +eloquently sincere, to remain himself outside the gates of +Paradise? how could the pen which in the Crimean chapter on the +Holy Shrines traced so exquisitely the delicate fancifulness of +purest sexual love, perpetrate that elaborate sneer over the +bachelor obsequies of <a name="page38"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 38</span>Carrigaholt—“the lowly +grave, that is the end of man’s romantic hopes, has closed +over all his rich fancies and all his high aspirations: he is +utterly married.” <a name="citation38a"></a><a +href="#footnote38a" class="citation">[38a]</a></p> +<blockquote><p>“Gai, gai, mariez vous,<br /> + Mettez vous dans la misère!<br /> +Gai, gai, mariez vous,<br /> + Mettez vous la corde au cou!” <a +name="citation38b"></a><a href="#footnote38b" +class="citation">[38b]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>There is generally a good reason for prolonged celibacy, a +reason which the bachelor as generally does not betray: Kinglake +remained single, by his own account, because he had observed that +women always prefer other men to their own husbands. Yet, +although unmarried, perhaps because unmarried, he heartily +admired many clever women; formed with them sedate but genuine +friendships, the <i>l’amour sans ailes</i>, sometimes +called “Platonic” by persons who have not read Plato; +found in their illogical clear-sightedness, in their +ἀγχίνοια, to use the +master’s own untranslatable phrase, a titillating stimulus +which he missed in men. He thought that the Church should +ordain priestesses as well as priests, the former to be the +Egerias of men, as the latter are the Pontiffs of women. +And Lady Gregory <a name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +39</span>tells us, that when attacked by gout, he wished for the +solace of a lady doctor, and wrote to one asking if gout were +beyond her scope. She answered: “Dear Sir,—Gout +is not beyond my scope, but men are.”</p> +<p>In 1854 he accompanied Lord Raglan to the Crimea. +“I had heard,” writes John Kenyon, “of +Kinglake’s chivalrous goings on. We were saying +yesterday that though he might write a book, he was among the +last men to go that he might write a book. He is wild about +matters military, if so calm a man is ever wild.” He +had hoped to go in an official position as non-combatant, but +this was refused by the authorities. His friend, Lord +Raglan, whose acquaintance he had made while hunting with the +Duke of Beaufort’s hounds, took him as his private +guest. Arrested for a time at Malta by an attack of fever, +he joined our army before hostilities began, rode with Lord +Raglan’s staff at the Alma fight, likening the novel +sensation to the excitement of fox-hunting; and accompanied the +chief in his visit of tenderness to the wounded when the fight +was over. Throughout the campaign the two were much +together, as we shall notice more fully later on. There are +often slight but unmistakable <a name="page40"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 40</span>signs of Kinglake’s presence as +spectator and auditor of Lord Raglan’s deeds and words; <a +name="citation40"></a><a href="#footnote40" +class="citation">[40]</a> his affection and reverence for the +great general animate the whole; in outward composure and latent +strength the two men resembled each other closely. The book +is, in fact, a history of Lord Raglan’s share in the +campaign; begun in 1856 at the request of Lady Raglan, the +narrative ends when the “Caradoc” with the +general’s body on board steams out of the bay, +“Farewell” flying at her masthead, the Russian +batteries, with generous recognition, ceasing to fire till the +ship was out of sight. “Lord Raglan is dead,” +said Kinglake as vol. viii. was sent to press, “and my work +is finished.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p40b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Lord Raglan" +title= +"Lord Raglan" +src="images/p40s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>Ten years were to elapse before the opening volumes should +appear; and meanwhile he entered parliament for the borough of +Bridgewater, which had rejected him in 1852. His colleague +was Colonel Charles J. Kemyss Tynte, member of a family which +local influence and lavish expenditure had secured in <a +name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 41</span>the +representation of the town for nearly forty years. +Catechized as to his political creed, he answered: “I call +myself an advanced Liberal; but I decline to go into parliament +as the pledged adherent of Lord Palmerston or any other +Liberal.” He adds, in response to a further question: +“I am believed to be the author of +‘Eothen.’” He broke down in his maiden +speech; but recovered himself in a later effort, and spoke, not +unfrequently, on subjects then important, now forgotten; on the +outrage of the “Charles et George”; the capture of +the Sardinian “Cagliari” by the Neapolitans on the +high seas; our attitude towards the Paris Congress of 1857; while +in 1858 he led the revolt against Lord Palmerston’s +proposal to amend the Conspiracy Laws in deference to Louis +Napoleon; in 1860 vigorously denounced the annexation of Savoy +and Nice; and in 1864 moved the amendment to Mr. Disraeli’s +motion in the debate on the Address, which was carried by 313 to +295. His feeble voice and unimpressive manner prevented him +from becoming a power in the House; but his speeches when read +are full, fluent, and graceful; the late Sir Robert Peel’s +remarkable harangue against the French <a name="page42"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 42</span>Emperor in the course of an earlier +debate was taken, as he is said to have owned, mainly from a +speech by Kinglake, delivered so indistinctly that the reporters +failed to catch it, but audible to Sir Robert who sate close +beside him.</p> +<p>With his constituents he was more at ease and more +effective. His seat for Bridgewater was challenged at a +general election by Henry Padwick, a hanger-on to Disraeli and a +well-known bookmaker on the turf, who, with an Irish Colonel +Westbrook, tried to cajole the electors and their wives by +extravagant compliments to the town, its neighbourhood, its +denizens; a place celebrated, as Captain Costigan said of +Chatteris, “for its antiquitee, its hospitalitee, the +beautee of its women, the manly fidelitee, generositee, and +jovialitee of its men.” Kinglake met them on their +own ground. In his flowery speeches the romance of Sinai +and Palestine faded before the glories of the little +Somersetshire town. What was the Jordan by comparison with +the Parrett? Could Libanus or Anti-Libanus vie with the +Mendip and the Quantock Hills? The view surveyed by +Monmouth from St. Mary’s Tower on the Eve of Sedgemoor +transcended all the <a name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +43</span>panoramas which the Holy Land or Asia Minor could +present! But his more serious orations were worthy of his +higher fame. In the panic of 1858, when the address of the +French colonels to the Emperor, beseeching to be led against +England, had created serious alarm on this side the Channel, he +went down to Bridgewater to enlighten the West of England. +“Why,” he asked, “do we fear invasion? +The population of France is peaceful, the ‘turnip-soup +Jacques Bonhomme’ is peaceful, the soldiers of the line are +peaceful. Why are we anxious? Because there sits in +his chamber at the Tuileries a solitary moody man. He is +deeply interested in the science and the art of war; he told me +once that he was contemplating a history of all the great battles +ever fought. He holds absolute control over vast resources +both in men and money; he has shown that he can attack +successfully at a few weeks’ notice the greatest European +military power: gout or indigestion may at any moment convert him +into an enemy of ourselves. Until France returns to +parliamentary government this danger is imminent and +continual. Our safety lies in our fleet, and in that +alone. If for twenty-four hours only the Channel were +denuded of our <a name="page44"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +44</span>ships in time of war with France, they would hurl upon +our shores a force we could not meet. Such denudation must +be made impossible; our fleet so augmented and strengthened as to +provide impregnably at all times for home defence no less than +for foreign necessities. Our danger, I repeat, lies in no +hostility on the part of the French army, in no ferocity on the +part of the French people, in no <i>present</i> unfriendliness on +the part of the French Emperor: it arises from the fact that a +revolutionary government exists in France, which has armed one +man, under the name of Emperor—Dictator rather, I should +say—with a power so colossal, that until such power is +moderated, as all power ought to be, no neighbour can be entirely +safe.” This speech was reproduced in “The +Times.” Montalembert read it with admiration. +“Who,” he asked Sir M. E. Grant Duff, “who is +Mr. Kinglake?” “He is the author of +‘Eothen.’” “And what is +‘Eothen?’ I never heard of it.”</p> +<p>He found great enjoyment in parliamentary life, but was in +1868 unseated on petition for bribery on the part of his +agents. Blue-books are not ordinarily light reading; but +the Report of the Commissioners appointed to inquire <a +name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 45</span>into the +alleged corrupt practices at Bridgewater is not only a model of +terse and vigorous composition, but to persons with a sense of +humour, inclined to view human irregularities and inconsistencies +in a sportive rather than an indignant light, it is a sustained +and diverting comedy. Of the constituency, both before and +after the Reform Bill, three-fourths, the Commissioners artlessly +inform us, sought and received bribes; of the remainder, all but +a few individuals negotiated and gave the bribes. So in +every election, both sides bribed avowedly; if a luckless Purity +Candidate appeared, he was promptly informed that “Mr. +Most” would win the seat: highest bribes decided each +election, further bribes averted petitions. When once a +desperate riot took place and the ringleaders were tried at +Quarter Sessions, the jury were bribed to acquit, in the teeth of +the Chairman’s summing up. At last, in 1868, the +defeated candidate petitioned; blue-book literature was enriched +by a remarkable report, and the borough was disfranchised. +Of course Kinglake had only himself to thank; if a gentleman +chooses to sit for a venal borough, and to intrust his interests +to a questionable agent, he must, in the words of Mrs. Gamp, <a +name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>“take +the consequences of sech a sitiwation.” The +consequences to him were loss of his present seat, and permanent +exclusion from Parliament.</p> +<p>He was keenly mortified by his ostracism, speaking of himself +ever after as “a political corpse.” +Thenceforward he gave his whole energy to literary work, to +occasional reviews, mainly to his “Invasion of the +Crimea.” In the “Edinburgh” I think he +never wrote, cordially disliking its then editor. A fine +notice in “Blackwood” of Madame de Lafayette’s +life was from his pen. Surveying the Revolutionary Terror, +he points out that Robespierre’s opponents were in numbers +overwhelmingly strong, but lacked cohesion and leaders; while the +Mountain, dominated by a single will, was legally armed with +power to kill, and went on killing. The Church played into +Robespierre’s hands by enforcing Patience and Resignation +as the highest Christian virtues, confusing the idea of +submission to Heaven with the idea of submission to a +scoundrel. Had Hampden been a Papist he would have paid +ship-money. He wrote also in “The Owl,” a +brilliant little magazine edited by his friend Laurence Oliphant; +a “Society <a name="page47"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +47</span>Journal,” conducted by a set of clever well-to-do +young bachelors living in London, addressed like the “Pall +Mall Gazette,” in “Pendennis,” “to the +higher circles of society, written by gentlemen for +gentlemen.” When the expenses of production were +paid, the balance was spent on a whitebait dinner at Greenwich, +and on offerings of flowers and jewellery to the lady guests +invited. It came to an end, leaving no successor equally +brilliant, high-toned, wholesome; its collected numbers figure +sometimes at a formidable price in sales and catalogues. <a +name="citation47"></a><a href="#footnote47" +class="citation">[47]</a></p> +<p><a name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 48</span>The +first two volumes of his “Crimea” had appeared in +1863. They were awaited with eager expectation. An +elaborate history of the war had been written by a Baron de +Bazancourt, condemned as unfair and unreliable by English +statesmen, and severely handled in our reviews. So the wish +was felt everywhere for some record less ephemeral, which should +render the tale historically, and counteract Bazancourt’s +misstatements. “I hear,” wrote the Duke of +Newcastle, “that Kinglake has undertaken the task. He +has a noble opportunity of producing a text-book for future +history, but to accomplish this it must be <i>stoically</i> +impartial.”</p> +<p>The beauty of their style, the merciless portraiture of the +Second Empire, the unparalleled diorama of the Alma fight, +combined to gain for these first four-and-twenty chapters an +immediate vogue as emphatic and as widely spread as that which +saluted the opening of Macaulay’s +“History.” None of the later volumes, though +highly prized as battle narratives, quite came up to these. +The political and military conclusions drawn provoked no small +bitterness; his cousin, Mrs. Serjeant Kinglake, used to say that +she met sometimes <a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +49</span>with almost affronting coldness in society at the time, +under the impression that she was A. W. Kinglake’s +wife. Russians were, perhaps unfairly, dissatisfied. +Todleben, who knew and loved Kinglake well, pronounced the book a +charming romance, not a history of the war. Individuals +were aggrieved by its notice of themselves or of their regiments; +statesmen chafed under the scientific analysis of their +characters, or at the publication of official letters which they +had intended but not required to be looked upon as confidential, +and which the recipients had in all innocence communicated to the +historian. Palmerstonians, accepting with their chief the +Man of December, were furious at the exposure of his +basenesses. Lucas in “The Times” pronounced the +work perverse and mischievous; the “Westminster +Review” branded it as reactionary. “The +Quarterly,” in an article ascribed to A. H. Layard, +condemned its style as laboured and artificial; as palling from +the sustained pomp and glitter of the language; as wearisome from +the constant strain after minute dissection; declaring it further +to be “in every sense of the word a mischievous +book.” “Blackwood,” less unfriendly, +surrendered itself to the beauty of <a name="page50"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 50</span>the writing; “satire so +studied, so polished, so remorseless, and withal so diabolically +entertaining, that we know not where in modern literature to seek +such another philippic.”</p> +<p>Reeve, editor of the “Edinburgh,” wished Lord +Clarendon to attack the book; he refused, but offered help, and +the resulting article was due to the collaboration of the +pair. It caused a prolonged coolness between Reeve and +Kinglake, who at last ended the quarrel by a characteristic +letter: “I observed yesterday that my malice, founded +perhaps upon a couple of words, and now of three years’ +duration, had not engendered corresponding anger in you; and if +my impression was a right one, I trust we may meet for the future +on our old terms.”</p> +<p>On the other hand, the “Saturday Review,” then at +the height of its repute and influence, vindicated in a powerful +article Kinglake’s truth and fairness; and a pamphlet by +Hayward, called “Mr. Kinglake and the Quarterlies,” +amused society by its furious onslaught upon the hostile +periodicals, laid bare their animus, and exposed their +misstatements. “If you rise in this tone,” he +began, in words of Lord Ellenborough when Attorney-General, +“I can speak as loudly and emphatically: I shall <a +name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 51</span>prosecute the +case with all the liberality of a gentleman, but no tone or +manner shall put me down.” And the dissentient voices +were drowned in the general chorus of admiration. German +eulogy was extravagant; French Republicanism was overjoyed; +Englishmen, at home and abroad, read eagerly for the first time +in close and vivid sequence events which, when spread over thirty +months of daily newspapers, few had the patience to follow, none +the qualifications to condense. Macaulay tells us that soon +after the appearance of his own first volumes, a Mr. Crump from +America offered him five hundred dollars if he would introduce +the name of Crump into his history. An English gentleman +and lady, from one of our most distant colonies, wrote to +Kinglake a jointly signed pathetic letter, intreating him to cite +in his pages the name of their only son, who had fallen in the +Crimea. He at once consented, and asked for +particulars—manner, time, place—of the young +man’s death. The parents replied that they need not +trouble him with details; these should be left to the +historian’s kind inventiveness: whatever he might please to +say in embellishment of their young hero’s end they would +gratefully accept.</p> +<p><a name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 52</span>Unlike +most authors, from Molière down to Dickens, he never read +aloud to friends any portion of the unpublished manuscript; +never, except to closest intimates, spoke of the book, or +tolerated inquiry about it from others. When asked as to +the progress of a volume he had in hand, he used to say, +“That is really a matter on which it is quite out of my +power even to inform myself”; and I remember how once at a +well-selected dinner-party in the country, whither he came in +good spirits and inclined to talk his best, a second-hand +criticism on his book by a conceited parson, the official and +incongruous element in the group, stiffened him into persistent +silence. All England laughed, when Blackwood’s +“Memoirs” saw the light, over his polite repulse of +the kindly officious publisher, who wished, after his fashion, to +criticise and finger and suggest. “I am almost +alarmed, as it were, at the notion of receiving +suggestions. I feel that hints from you might be so +valuable and so important, it might be madness to ask you +beforehand to abstain from giving me any; but I am anxious for +you to know what the dangers in the way of long delay might be, +the result of even a few slight and possibly most useful +suggestions. . . . You will <a name="page53"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 53</span>perhaps (after what I have said) +think it best not to set my mind running in a new path, lest I +should take to re-writing.” Note, by the way, the +slovenliness of this epistle, as coming from so great a master of +style; that defect characterizes all his correspondence. He +wrote for the Press “with all his singing robes about +him”; his letters were unrevised and brief. Mrs. +Simpson, in her pleasant “Memories,” ascribes to him +the <i>éloquence du billet</i> in a supreme degree. +I must confess that of more than five hundred letters from his +pen which I have seen only six cover more than a single sheet of +note-paper, all are alike careless and unstudied in style, though +often in matter characteristic and informing. “I am +not by nature,” he would say, “a letter-writer, and +habitually think of the uncertainty as to who may be the reader +of anything that I write. It is my fate, as a writer of +history, to have before me letters never intended for my eyes, +and this has aggravated my foible, and makes me a wretched +correspondent. I should like very much to write letters +gracefully and easily, but I can’t, because it is contrary +to my nature.” “I have got,” he writes so +early as 1873, “to shrink from the use of the pen; to ask +me to write <a name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +54</span>letters is like asking a lame man to walk; it is not, as +horse-dealers say, ‘the nature of the beast.’ +When others <i>talk</i> to me charmingly, my answers are short, +faltering, incoherent sentences; so it is with my +writing.” “You,” he says to another lady +correspondent, “have the pleasant faculty of easy, pleasant +letter-writing, in which I am wholly deficient.”</p> +<p>In fact, the claims of his Crimean book, which compelled him +latterly to refuse all other literary work, gave little time for +correspondence. Its successive revisions formed his daily +task until illness struck him down. Sacks of Crimean notes, +labelled through some fantastic whim with female Christian +names—the Helen bag, the Adelaide bag, etc.—were +ranged round his room. His working library was very small +in bulk, his habit being to cut out from any book the pages which +would be serviceable, and to fling the rest away. So, we +are told, the first Napoleon, binding volumes for his travelling +library, shore their margins to the quick, and removed all +prefaces, title-pages, and other superfluous leaves. So, +too, Edward Fitzgerald used to tear out of his books all that in +his judgment fell below their authors’ highest standard, +retaining for his own delectation <a name="page55"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 55</span>only the quintessential +remnants. Vols. III. and IV. appeared in 1868, V. in 1875, +VI. in 1880, VII. and VIII. in 1887; while a Cabinet Edition of +the whole in nine volumes was issued continuously from 1870 to +1887. Our attempt to appreciate the book shall be reserved +for another chapter.</p> +<h2><a name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +56</span>CHAPTER IV<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">“THE INVASION OF THE +CRIMEA”</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Was</span> the history of the Crimean War +worth writing? Not as a magnified newspaper +report,—that had been already done—but as a permanent +work of art from the pen of a great literary expert? Very +many of us, I think, after the lapse of fifty years, feel +compelled to say that it was not. The struggle represented +no great principles, begot no far-reaching consequences. It +was not inspired by the “holy glee” with which in +Wordsworth’s sonnet Liberty fights against a tyrant, but by +the faltering boldness, the drifting, purposeless unresolve of +statesmen who did not desire it, and by the irrational violence +of a Press which did not understand it. It was not a +necessary war; its avowed object would have been attained within +a few weeks or months by bloodless European concert. It was +not a glorious war; crippled by an incompatible alliance and <a +name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 57</span>governed by +the Evil Genius who had initiated it for personal and sordid +ends, it brought discredit on baffled generals in the field, on +Crown, Cabinet, populace, at home. It was not a fruitful +war; the detailed results purchased by its squandered life and +treasure lapsed in swift succession during twenty sequent years, +until the last sheet of the treaty which secured them was +contemptuously torn up by Gortschakoff in 1870. But a right +sense of historical proportion is in no time the heritage of the +many, and is least of all attainable while the memory of a +campaign is fresh. On Englishmen who welcomed home their +army in 1855, the strife from which shattered but victorious it +had returned, loomed as epoch-making and colossal, as claiming +therefore permanent record from some eloquent artist of attested +descriptive power. Soon the report gained ground that the +destined chronicler was Kinglake, and all men hailed the +selection; yet the sceptic who in looking back to-day decries the +greatness of the campaign may perhaps no less hesitate to approve +the fitness of its chosen annalist. His fame was due to the +perfection of a single book; he ranked as a potentate in +<i>style</i>. But literary perfection, whether in prose <a +name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 58</span>or poetry, is +a fragile quality, an <i>afflatus</i> irregular, independent, +unamenable to orders; the official tributes of a Laureate we +compliment at their best with the northern farmer’s verdict +on the pulpit performances of his parson:</p> +<blockquote><p>“An’ I niver knaw’d wot a +meän’d but I thow’t a ’ad summut to +saäy,<br /> +And I thowt a said wot a owt to ’a said an’ I comed +awaäy.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Set to compile a biography from thirty years of +“Moniteurs,” the author of Waverley, like Lord +Chesterfield’s diamond pencil, produced one miracle of +dulness; it might well be feared that Kinglake’s volatile +pen, when linked with forceful feeling and bound to rigid +task-work, might lose the charm of casual epigram, easy +luxuriance, playful egotism, vagrant allusion, which established +“Eothen” as a classic. On the other hand, he +had been for twenty years conversant with Eastern history, +geography, politics; was, more than most professional soldiers, +an adept in military science; had sate in the centre of the +campaign as its general’s guest and comrade; was intrusted, +above all, by Lady Raglan with the entire collection of her +husband’s papers: her wish, implied though not expressed, +that they should be utilized for the <a name="page59"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 59</span>vindication of the great +field-marshal’s fame, he accepted as a sacred charge; her +confidence not only governed his decision to become the historian +of the war, but imparted a personal character to the +narrative.</p> +<p>In order, therefore, rightly to appreciate “The Invasion +of the Crimea,” we must look upon it as a great prose epic; +its argument, machinery, actors, episodes, subordinate to a +predominant ever present hero. In its fine preamble Lord +Raglan sits enthroned high above generals, armies, spectators, +conflicts; on the quality of his mind the fate of two great hosts +and the fame of two great nations hang. He checks St. +Arnaud’s wild ambition; overrules the waverings of the +Allies; against his own judgment, but in dutiful obedience to +home instruction carries out the descent upon the Old Fort +coast. The successful achievement of the perilous flank +march is ascribed to the undivided command which, during +forty-eight hours, accident had conferred upon him. From +his presence in council French and English come away convinced +and strengthened; his calm in action imparts itself to anxious +generals and panic-stricken aides-de-camp. Through Alma +fight, from the high knoll to which happy <a +name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>audacity had +carried him he rides the whirlwind and directs the storm. +In the terrible crisis which sees the Russians breaking over the +crest of Inkerman, in the ill-fated attack on the Great Redan +where Lacy Yea is killed, his apparent freedom from anxiety +infects all around him and achieves redemption from disaster. <a +name="citation60"></a><a href="#footnote60" +class="citation">[60]</a> We see him in his moments of +vexation and discomfiture; dissembling pain and anger under the +stress of the French alliance, galled by Cathcart’s +disobedience, by the loss of the Light Brigade, by Lord +Panmure’s insulting, querulous, unfounded blame. We +read his last despatch, framed with wonted grace and clearness; +then—on the same day—we see the outworn frame break +down, and follow mournfully two days later the afflicting details +of his death. As the generals and admirals of the allied +forces stand round the dead hero’s form, as the palled +bier, draped in the flag of England, is carried from headquarters +to the port, as the “Caradoc,” steaming away with her +honoured freight, flies <a name="page61"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 61</span>out her “Farewell” +signal, the narrative abruptly ends. The months of the +siege which still remained might be left to other hands or lapse +untold. Troy had still to be taken when Hector died; but +with his funeral dirge the Iliad closed, the blind bard’s +task was over:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Such honours Ilion to her hero paid,<br /> +And peaceful slept the mighty Hector’s shade.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>If the framework of the narrative is epic, its treatment is +frequently dramatic. The “Usage of Europe” in +the opening pages is not so much a record as a personification of +unwritten Law: the Great Eltchi tramps the stage with a majesty +sometimes bordering on fustian. Dramatic is the story of +the sleeping Cabinet. “It was evening—a summer +evening”—one thinks of a world-famous passage in the +“De Corona”—when the Duke of Newcastle carried +to Richmond Lodge the fateful despatch committing England to the +war. “Before the reading of the Paper had long +continued, all the members of the Cabinet except a small minority +were overcome with sleep”; the few who remained awake were +in a quiet, assenting frame of mind, and the despatch +“received from the Cabinet the kind of approval which is <a +name="page62"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 62</span>awarded to an +unobjectionable Sermon.” Not less dramatic is +Nolan’s death; the unearthly shriek of the slain corpse +erect in saddle with sword arm high in air, as the dead horseman +rode still seated through the 13th Light Dragoons; the +“Minden Yell” of the 20th driving down upon the +Iäkoutsk battalion; the sustained and scathing satire on the +Nôtre Dame Te Deum for the Boulevard massacre. A +simple dialogue, a commonplace necessary act, is staged sometimes +for effect. “Then Lord Stratford apprised the Sultan +that he had a private communication to make to him. The +pale Sultan listened.” . . . “Whose was the mind +which had freshly come to bear upon this part of the fight? +Sir Colin Campbell was sitting in his saddle, the veteran was +watching his time.” . . . “The Emperor Nicholas was +alone in his accustomed writing-room. He took no counsel; +he rang a bell. Presently an officer of his staff stood +before him. To him he gave his order for the occupation of +the Principalities.” This overpasses drama—it +is melodrama.</p> +<p>To the personal element which pervades the volumes great part +of their charm is due. The writer never obtrudes himself, +but leaves his <a name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +63</span>presence to be discerned by the touches which attest an +eye-witness. Through his observant nearness we watch the +Chief’s demeanour and hear his words; see him “turn +scarlet with shame and anger” when the brutal Zouaves carry +outrage into the friendly Crimean village, witness his personal +succour of the wounded Russian after Inkerman, hear his arch +acceptance of the French courtesy, so careful always to yield the +post of danger to the English; his “Go quietly” to +the excited aide-de-camp; <a name="citation63"></a><a +href="#footnote63" class="citation">[63]</a> his good-humoured +reception of the scared and breathless messenger from +D’Aurelle’s brigade; the “five words” +spoken to Airey commanding the long delayed advance across the +Alma; the “tranquil low voice” which gave the order +rescuing the staff from its unforeseen encounter with the Russian +rear. He records Codrington’s leap on his grey Arab +into the breast-work of the Great Redoubt; Lacy Yea’s +passionate <a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +64</span>energy in forcing his clustered regiment to open out; +Miller’s stentorian “Rally” in reforming the +Scots Greys after the Balaclava charge; Clarke losing his helmet +in the same charge, and creating amongst the Russians, as he +plunged in bareheaded amongst their ranks, the belief that he was +sheltered by some Satanic charm. He notes on the Alma the +singular pause of sound maintained by both armies just before the +cannonade began; the first death—of an artilleryman riding +before his gun—a new sight to nine-tenths of those who +witnessed it; <a name="citation64"></a><a href="#footnote64" +class="citation">[64]</a> the weird scream of exploding shells as +they rent the air around. He crossed the Alma close behind +Lord Raglan, cantering after him to the summit of a conspicuous +hillock in the heart of the enemy’s position, whence the +mere sight of plumed English officers scared the Russian +generals, and, followed soon by guns and troops, governed the +issue of the fight. The general’s manner was <a +name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>“the +manner of a man enlivened by the progress of a great undertaking +without being robbed of his leisure. He spoke to me, I +remember, about his horse. He seemed like a man who had a +clue of his own and knew his way through the battle.” +When the last gun was fired Kinglake followed the Chief back, +witnessed the wild burst of cheering accorded to him by the whole +British army, a manifestation, Lord Burghersh tells us, which +greatly distressed his modesty—and dined alone with him in +his tent on the evening of the eventful day.</p> +<p>If Lord Raglan was the Hector of the Crimean Iliad, its +Agamemnon was Lord Stratford: “king of men,” as +Stanley called him in his funeral sermon at Westminster; king of +distrustful home Cabinets, nominally his masters, of scheming +European embassies, of insulting Russian opponents, of +presumptuous French generals, of false and fleeting Pashas (<i>Le +Sultan</i>, <i>c’est Lord Stratford</i>, said St. Arnaud), +of all men, whatever their degree, who entered his ambassadorial +presence. Ascendency was native to the man; while yet in +his teens we find Etonian and Cambridge friends writing to him +deferentially as to a critic and superior. At <a +name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 66</span>four and +twenty he became Minister to a Court manageable only by +high-handed authority and menace. He owned, and for the +most part controlled, a violent temper; it broke bounds +sometimes, to our great amusement as we read to-day, to the +occasional discomfiture of <i>attachés</i> or of +dependents, <a name="citation66"></a><a href="#footnote66" +class="citation">[66]</a> to the abject terror of Turkish +Sublimities who had outworn his patience. But he knew when +to be angry; he could pulverize by fiery outbreaks the Reis +Effendi and his master, Abdu-l-Mejid; but as Plenipotentiary to +the United States he could “quench the terror of his beak, +the lightning of his eye,” disarming by his formal courtesy +and winning by his obvious sincerity the suspicious and irritable +John Quincy Adams. When <a name="page67"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 67</span>Menschikoff once insulted him, seeing +that a quarrel at that moment would be fatal to his purpose, he +pretended to be deaf, and left the Russian in the belief that his +rude speech had not been heard. Enthroned for the sixth +time in Constantinople, at the dangerous epoch of 1853, he could +point to an unequalled diplomatic record in the past; to the +Treaty of Bucharest, to reunion of the Helvetic Confederacy +shattered by Napoleon’s fall, to the Convention which +ratified Greek independence, to the rescue from Austrian +malignity of the Hungarian refugees.</p> +<p>His conduct of the negotiations preceding the Crimean War is +justly called the cornerstone of his career: at this moment of +his greatness Kinglake encounters and describes him: through the +brilliant chapters in his opening volume, as more fully later on +through Mr. Lane Poole’s admirable biography, the Great +Eltchi is known to English readers. He moves across the +stage with a majesty sometimes bordering on what Iago calls +bombast circumstance; drums and trumpets herald his every +entrance; now pacing the shady gardens of the Bosphorus, now +foiling, “in his grand quiet way,” the Czar’s +ferocious Christianity, or torturing <a name="page68"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 68</span>his baffled ambassador by scornful +concession of the points which he formally demanded but did not +really want; or crushing with “thin, tight, merciless lips +and grand overhanging Canning brow” the presumptuous French +commander who had dared to enter his presence with a plot for +undermining England’s influence in the partnership of the +campaign. Was he, we ask as we end the fascinating +description, was he, what Bright and the Peace Party proclaimed +him to be, the cause of the Crimean War? The Czar’s +personal dislike to him—a caprice which has never been +explained <a name="citation68"></a><a href="#footnote68" +class="citation">[68]</a>—exasperated no doubt to the mind +of Nicholas the repulse of Menschikoff’s demands; but that +the precipitation of the prince and his master had put the +Russian Court absolutely in the wrong is universally +admitted. It has been urged against him that his +recommendation of the famous Vienna Note to the Porte was +official merely, and allowed the watchful Turks to assume his +personal approbation of their refusal. It may be so; his +biographer <a name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +69</span>does not admit so much: but it is obvious that the Turks +were out of hand, and that no pressure from Lord Stratford could +have persuaded them to accept the Note. Further, the +“Russian Analysis of the Note,” escaping shortly +afterwards from the bag of diplomatic secrecy, revealed to our +Cabinet the necessity of those amendments to the Note on which +the Porte had insisted. And lastly, the passage of the +Dardanelles by our fleet, which more than any overt act made war +inevitable, was ordered by the Government at home against Lord +Stratford’s counsel. Between panic-stricken statesmen +and vacillating ambassadors, Lord Clarendon on one side, M. de la +Cour on the other, the Eltchi stands like Tennyson’s +promontory of rock,</p> +<blockquote><p>“Tempest-buffeted, +citadel-crowned.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Napoleon at St. Helena attributed much of his success in the +field to the fact that he was not hampered by governments at +home. Every modern commander, down certainly to the present +moment, must have envied him. Kinglake’s mordant pen +depicts with felicity and compression the men of Downing Street, +who without military experience or definite political <a +name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 70</span>aim, +thwarted, criticised, over-ruled, tormented, their much-enduring +General. We have Aberdeen, deficient in mental clearness +and propelling force, by his horror of war bringing war to pass; +Gladstone, of too subtle intellect and too lively conscience, +“a good man in the worst sense of the term”; +Palmerston, above both in keenness of instinct and in strength of +will, meaning war from the first, and biding his time to insure +it; Newcastle, sanguine to the verge of rashness, loyally +adherent to Lord Raglan while governed by his own judgment, +distrustful under stress of popular clamour; Panmure, ungenerous, +rough-tongued, violent, churlish, yet not +malevolent—“a rhinoceros rather than a +tiger”—hurried by subservience to the newspaper Press +into injustice which he afterwards recognized, yet did but +sullenly repair. We see finally that dominant Press itself, +personified in the all-powerful Delane, a potentate with +convictions at once flexible and vehement; forceful without spite +and merciless without malignity; writing no articles, but +evoking, shaping, revising all. The French commanders were +not hampered by the muzzled Paris Press, which had long since +ceased to utter any but dictated sentiments; they suffered <a +name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 71</span>even more +disastrously from the imperious interference of the +Tuileries. Canrobert’s inaction, mutability, sudden +alarms, flagrant breaches of faith, were inexplicable until long +afterwards, when the fall of the Empire disclosed the secret +instructions—disloyal to his allies and ruinous to the +campaign—by which Louis Napoleon shackled his unhappy +General. In Canrobert’s successor, Pelissier, he met +his match. For the first time a strong man headed the +French army. Short of stature, bull-necked and massive in +build, with grey hair, long dark moustache, keen fiery eyes, his +coarse rough speech masking tested brain power and high +intellectual culture, he brought new life to the benumbed French +army, new hope to Lord Raglan. The duel between the +resolute general and the enraged Emperor is narrated with a touch +comedy. All that Lord Raglan desired, all that the Emperor +forbade, Pelissier was stubbornly determined to accomplish; the +siege should be pressed at once, the city taken at any cost, the +expedition to Kertch resumed. Once only, under torment of +the Emperor’s reproaches and the Minister at War’s +remonstrances, his resolution and his nerve gave way; eight days +of failing judgment issued in the <a name="page72"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 72</span>Karabelnaya defeat, the severest +repulse which the two armies had sustained; but the paralysis +passed away, he showed himself once more eager to act in concert +with the English general;—when the long-borne strain of +disappointment and anxiety sapped at last Lord Raglan’s +vital forces, and the hard fierce Frenchman stood for upwards of +an hour beside his dead colleague’s bedside, “crying +like a child.”</p> +<p>The lieutenants of Lord Raglan in the Crimea have long since +passed away, but in artistic epical presentment they retain their +place around him. Airey, his right hand from the first +disembarkation at Kalamita Bay, strong-willed, decisive, ardent, +thrusting away suspense and doubt, untying every knot, is +vindicated by his Chief against the Duke of Newcastle’s +wordy inculpation in the severest despatch perhaps ever penned to +his official superior by a soldier in the field. Colin +Campbell, with glowing face, grey kindling eye, light, stubborn, +crisping hair, leads his Highland brigade tip the hill against +the Vladimir columns, till “with the sorrowful wail which +bursts from the brave Russian infantry when they have to suffer +loss,” eight battalions of the enemy fall back in +retreat. Lord Lucan, tall, lithe, slender, his face +glittering <a name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +73</span>and panther-like in moments of strenuous action, wins +our hearts as he won Kinglake’s, in spite of the mis-aimed +cleverness and presumptuous self-confidence which always +criticised and sometimes disobeyed the orders of his Chief. +General Pennefather, “the grand old boy,” his +exulting radiant face flashing everywhere through the smoke, his +resonant innocuous oaths roaring cheerily down the line, sustains +all day the handful of our troops against the tenfold masses of +the enemy. Generous and eloquent are the notices of +Korniloff and Todleben, the great sailor and the great engineer, +the soul and the brain of the Sebastopol defence. The first +fell in the siege, the second lived to write its history, to +become a valued friend of Kinglake, to explore and interpret in +his company long afterwards the scenes of struggle; his book and +his personal guidance gave to the historian what would otherwise +have been unattainable, a clear knowledge of the conflict as +viewed from within the town.</p> +<p>The pitched battlefields of the campaign were three, Alma, +Balaclava, Inkerman. The Alma chapter is the most graphic, +for there the fight was concentrated, offering to a spectator by +Lord Raglan’s side a <i>coup d’œil</i> of the +entire <a name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +74</span>action. The French were by bad generalship +virtually wiped out; for Bosquet crossed the river too far to the +right, Canrobert was afraid to move without artillery, Prince +Napoleon and St. Arnaud’s reserves were jammed together in +the bottom of the valley. We see, as though on the spot, +the advance, irregular and unsupported, of Codrington’s +brigade, their dash into the Great Redoubt and subsequent +disorderly retreat; the enemy checked by the two guns from Lord +Raglan’s knoll and by the steadiness of the Royal +Fusiliers; the repulse of the Scots Fusiliers and the peril which +hung over the event; then the superb advance of Guards and +Highlanders up the hill, thin red line against massive columns, +which determined finally the action.</p> +<p>The interest of the Balaclava fight centres in the two +historic cavalry charges. Here again, from his position on +the hill above, Kinglake witnessed both; the first, clear in +smokeless air, the second lost in the volleying clouds which +filled the valley of death. He saw the enormous mass of +Russian cavalry, 3,500 sabres, flooding like an avalanche down +the hill with a momentum which Scarlett’s tiny squadron +could not for a moment have resisted; <a name="page75"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 75</span>their unexplained halt, the three +hundred seizing the opportunity to strike, digging individually +into the Russian ranks, the scarlet streaks visibly cleaving the +dense grey columns. Inwedged and surrounded, in their +passionate blood frenzy, with ceaseless play of whirling sword, +with impetus of human and equestrian weight and strength, the red +atoms hewed their way to the Russian rear, turned, worked back, +emerged, reformed; while the 4th and 5th Dragoons, the Royals, +the 1st Inniskillings, dashed upon the amazed column right, left, +front, till the close-locked mass headed slowly up the hill, +ranks loosened, horsemen turned and galloped off, a beaten +straggling herd. Eight minutes elapsed from the time when +Scarlett gave the word to charge, until the moment when the +Russians broke: we turn from the fifty describing pages, +breathless as though we had ridden in the melley; if the episode +has no historical parallel, the narrative is no less +unique. Our greatest contemporary poet tried to celebrate +it; his lines are tame and unexciting beside Kinglake’s +passionate pulsing rhapsody. Its effect upon the Russian +mind was lasting; out of all their vast array hardly a single +squadron was ever after able to keep its ground <a +name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>against the +approach of English cavalry; while but for Cathcart’s +obstinacy and Lucan’s temper it would have issued in the +immediate recapture of the Causeway Heights.</p> +<p>The Charge of the Light Brigade, on the other hand, while it +stirred the imagination of the poet, shocked the military +conscience of the historian. He saw in it with agony, as +Lord Raglan saw, as the French spectators saw, no act of heroic +sacrifice, but a needless, fruitless massacre. “You +have lost the Light Brigade,” was his commander’s +salutation to Lord Lucan. “<i>C’est magnifique</i>, +<i>mais ce n’est pas la guerre</i>,” was the +oft-quoted reproof of Bosquet. The “someone’s +blunder,” the sullen perversity in misconception which +destroyed the flower of our cavalry, has faded from men’s +memories; the splendour of the deed remains. It is well to +recover salvage from the irrevocable, to voice and to prolong the +deep human interest attaching to death encountered at the call of +duty; that is the poet’s task, and brilliantly it has been +discharged. Its other side, the pæan of sorrow for a +self-destructive exploit, the dirge on lives wantonly thrown +away, the deep blame attaching to the untractableness which sent +them to their doom, was the task of the historian, and <a +name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>that too has +been faithfully and lastingly accomplished.</p> +<p>Inkerman was the most complicated of the battles; the chapters +which record it are correspondingly taxing to the reader. +More than once or twice they must be scanned, with close study of +their lucid maps, before the intricate sequences are fairly and +distinctively grasped; the sixth book of Thucydides, a standing +terror to young Greek students, is light and easy reading +compared with the bulky sixth volume of Kinglake. The hero +of the day was Pennefather; he maintained on Mount Inkerman a +combat of pickets reinforced from time to time, while around him +through nine hours successive attacks of thousands were met by +hundreds. The disparity of numbers was appalling. At +daybreak 40,000 Russian troops advanced against 3,000 English and +were repulsed. Three hours later 19,000 fresh troops came +on, passed through a gap in our lines, which Cathcart’s +disobedience, atoned for presently by his death, had left +unoccupied, and seized the heights behind us; they too were +dispossessed, but our numbers were dwindling and our strength +diminishing. The Home Ridge, key of our position, was next +invaded by <a name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +78</span>6,000 Russians; the 7th St. Leger, linked with a few +Zouaves and with 200 men of our 77th Regiment, French and English +for once joyously intermingled, hurled them back. It was +the crisis of the fight; Canrobert’s interposition would +have determined it; but he sullenly refused to move. +Finally, led by two or three daring young officers, 300 of our +wearied troops charged the Russian battery which had tormented us +all day; their artillerymen, already flinching under the galling +fire of two 18-pounders, brought up by Lord Raglan’s +foresight early in the morning, hastily withdrew their guns, and +the battle was won. It was a day of Homeric rushes; +Burnaby, with only twenty men to support him, rescuing the +Grenadier Guards’ colours; the onset of the 20th with their +“Minden Yell”; Colonel Daubeny with two dozen +followers cleaving the Russian trunk column at the barrier; +Waddy’s dash at the retreating artillery train, foiled only +by the presence and the readiness of Todleben. One marvels +in reading how the English held their own; their victory against +so tremendous odds is ascribed by the historian to three +conditions; the hampering of the enemy by his crowded masses; the +slaughter amongst his <a name="page79"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 79</span>officers early in the fight, which +deprived their men of leadership; above all, the dense mist which +obscured from him the fewness of his opponents. If +Canrobert with his fresh troops had followed in pursuit, the +Russian’s retreat must have been turned into a rout and his +artillery captured; if on the following day he had assaulted the +Flagstaff Bastion, Sebastopol, Todleben owned, must have +fallen. He would do neither; his hesitancy and apparent +feebleness have already been explained; but to it, and to the +sinister influence which held his hand, were due the subsequent +miseries of the Crimean winter.</p> +<p>But the epic muse exacted from Kinglake, as from Virgil long +before, the portrayal not only of generals and of battles, but of +two great monarchs, each in his own day conspicuously and +absolutely prominent—the Czar Nicholas and the Emperor +Napoleon:</p> + +<blockquote><p> “dicam +horrida belia,<br /> +Dicam acies, actosque animis in funera <span +class="smcap">reges</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>His handling of them is characteristic. Few men living +then could have approached either without a certain awe, their +“genius” rebuked,—like Mark Antony’s, in +the presence of Cæsars so <a name="page80"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 80</span>imposing and so mighty; +Kinglake’s attitude towards both is the attitude of cold +analysis.</p> +<p>In the opening of the fifties the Czar Nicholas was the most +powerful man then living in the world. He ruled over sixty +million subjects whose loyalty bordered on worship: he had in +arms a million soldiers, brave and highly trained. In the +troubles of 1848 he had stood scornful and secure amid the +overthrow of surrounding thrones; and the entire impact of his +vast and well-organized Empire was subject to his single will; +whatever he chose to do he did. Of stern and unrelenting +nature, of active and widely ranging capacity for business, of +gigantic stature and commanding presence, he inspired almost +universal terror; and yet his friendliness had when he pleased a +glow and frankness irresistible in its charm. Readers of +Queen Victoria’s early life will recall the alarm she felt +at his sudden proposal to visit Windsor in 1844, the fascination +which his presence exercised on her when he became her +guest. He professed to embody his standard of conduct in +the English word “gentleman”; his ideal of human +grandeur was the character of the Duke of Wellington. It +was an evil destiny that betrayed this high-minded man <a +name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 81</span>into crooked +ways; that made England sacrifice the stateliest among her +ancient friends to an ignoble and crime-stained adventurer; that +poured out blood and treasure for no public advantage and with no +permanent result; that first humiliated, then slew with broken +heart the man who had been so great, and who is still regarded by +surviving Russians who knew his inner life and had seen him in +his gentle mood with passionate reverence and affection.</p> +<p>Kinglake’s description of “Prince Louis +Bonaparte,” of his character, his accomplices, his policy, +his crimes, is perhaps unequalled in historical literature; I +know not where else to look for a vivisection so scientific and +so merciless of a great potentate in the height of his +power. With scrutiny polite, impartial, guarded, he lays +bare the springs of a conscienceless nature and the secrets of a +crime-driven career; while for the combination of precise +simplicity with exhaustive synopsis, the masquerading of moral +indignation in the guise of mocking laughter, the loathing of a +gentleman for a scoundrel set to the measure not of indignation +but of contempt, we must go back to the refined insolence, the +ὕβρις +πεπαιδευμένη, +of Voltaire. He had well known Prince Napoleon <a +name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 82</span>in his London +days, had been attracted by him as a curiosity—“a +balloon man who had twice fallen from the skies and yet was still +alive”—had divined the mental power veiled habitually +by his blank, opaque, wooden looks, had listened to his ambitious +talk and gathered up the utterances of his thoughtful, +long-pondering mind, had quarrelled with him finally and +lastingly over rivalry in the good graces of a woman. <a +name="citation82"></a><a href="#footnote82" +class="citation">[82]</a> He saw in him a fourfold student; +of the art of war, of the mind of the first Napoleon, of the +French people’s character, of the science by which law may +lend itself to stratagem and become a weapon of deceit.</p> +<p>The intellect of this strange being was subject to an +uncertainty of judgment, issuing in ambiguity of enterprise, and +giving an impression <a name="page83"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 83</span>of well-kept secrecy, due often to +the fact that divided by mental conflict he had no secret to +tell. He understood truth, but under the pressure of strong +motive would invariably deceive. He sometimes, out of +curiosity, would listen to the voice of conscience, and could +imitate neatly on occasion the scrupulous language of a man of +honour; but the consideration that one of two courses was honest, +and the other not, never entered into his motives for +action. He was bold in forming plots, and skilful in +conducting them; but in the hour of trial and under the confront +of physical danger he was paralysed by constitutional +timidity. His great aim in life was to be +conspicuous—<i>digito monstrarier</i>—coupled with a +theatric mania which made scenic effects and surprises essential +to the eminence he craved.</p> +<p>Handling this key to his character, Kinglake pursues him into +his December treason, contrasts the consummate cleverness of his +schemes with the faltering cowardice which shrank, like +Macbeth’s ambition, from “the illness should attend +them,” and which, but for the stronger nerve of those +behind him, would have caused his collapse, at Paris as at +Strasburg and Boulogne, in contact with the shock of +action. It is difficult <a name="page84"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 84</span>now to realize the commotion caused +by this fourteenth chapter of Kinglake’s book. The +Emperor was at the summit of his power, fresh from Austrian +conquest, viewed with alarm by England, whose rulers feared his +strength and were distrustful of his friendship. Our Crown, +our government, our society, had condoned his usurpation; he had +kissed the Queen’s cheek, bent her ministers to his will, +ridden through her capital a triumphant and applauded +guest. And now men read not only a cynical dissection of +his character and disclosure of his early foibles, but the +hideous details of his deceit and treachery, the phases of +cold-blooded massacre and lawless deportation by which he emptied +France of all who hesitated to enrol themselves as his +accomplices or his tools. Forty years have passed since the +terrible indictment was put forth; down to its minutest +allegation it has been proved literally true; the arch criminal +has fallen from his estate to die in disgrace, disease, +exile. When we talk to-day with cultivated Frenchmen of +that half-forgotten epoch, and of the book which bared its +horrors, we are met by their response of ardent gratitude to the +man who joined to passionate hatred of iniquity surpassing +capacity <a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +85</span>for denouncing it; their avowal that with all its +frequent exposure of their military shortcomings and depreciation +of their national character, no English chronicle of the century +stands higher in their esteem than the history of the war in the +Crimea.</p> +<p>The close of the book is grim and tragic in the main, the stir +of gallant fights exchanged for the dreary course of siege, +intrenchment, mine and countermine. We have the awful +winter on the heights, the November hurricane, the foiled +bombardments, the cruel blunder of the Karabelnaya assault, the +bitter natural discontent at home, the weak subservience of our +government to misdirected clamour, the touching help-fraught +advent of the Lady Nurses: then, just as better prospects dawn, +the Chief’s collapse and death. From the morrow of +Inkerman to the end, through no fault of his, the +historian’s chariot wheels drag. More and more one +sees how from the nature of the task, except for the flush of +contemporary interest then, except by military students now, it +is not a work to be popularly read; the exhausted interest of its +subject swamps the genius of its narrator. Scattered +through its more serious matter are gems with the old +“Eothen” sparkle, <a name="page86"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 86</span>of periphrasis, aphorism, felicitous +phrase and pregnant epithet. Such is the fine analogy +between the worship of holy shrines and the lover’s homage +to the spot which his mistress’s feet have trod; such +France’s tolerance of the Elysée brethren compared +to the Arab laying his verminous burnous upon an ant-hill; the +apt quotation from the Psalms to illustrate the on-coming of the +Guards; the demeanour of horses in action; the course of a flying +cannon-ball; the two ponderous troopers at the Horse Guards; Tom +Tower and his Croats landing stores for our soldiers from the +“Erminia.” Or again, we have the light clear +touches of a single line; “the decisiveness and consistency +of despotism”—“the fractional and volatile +interests in trading adventure which go by the name of +Shares”—“the unlabelled, undocketed state of +mind which shall enable a man to encounter the +Unknown”—“the qualifying words which correct +the imprudences and derange the grammatical structure of a +Queen’s Speech”: but these are islets in the sea of +narrative, not, as in “Eothen,” woof-threads which +cross the warp.</p> +<p>To compare an idyll with an epic, it may be said, is like +comparing a cameo with a Grecian <a name="page87"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 87</span>temple: be it so; but the temple +falls in ruins, the cameo is preserved in cabinets; and it is +possible that a century hence the Crimean history will be +forgotten, while “Eothen” is read and enjoyed. +The best judges at the time pronounced that as a lasting monument +of literary force the work was over refined: +“Kinglake,” said Sir George Cornewall Lewis, +“tries to write better than he can write”; quoting, +perhaps unconsciously, the epigram of a French art critic a +hundred years before—<i>Il cherche toujours a faire mieux +qu’il ne fait</i>. <a name="citation87"></a><a +href="#footnote87" class="citation">[87]</a> He lavished on +it far more pains than on “Eothen”: the proof sheets +were a black sea of erasures, intercalations, blots; the original +chaotic manuscript pages had to be disentangled by a calligraphic +Taunton bookseller before they could be sent to press. This +fastidiousness in part gained its purpose; won temporary success; +gave to his style the glitter, rapidity, point, effectiveness, of +a pungent editorial; went home, stormed, convinced, vindicated, +damaged, triumphed: but it missed by excessive polish the +reposeful, unlaboured, classic grace essential to the highest +art. Over-scrupulous manipulation <a +name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 88</span>of words is +liable to the “defect of its qualities”; as with +unskilful goldsmiths of whom old Latin writers tell us, the file +goes too deep, trimming away more of the first fine minting than +we can afford to lose. Ruskin has explained to us how the +decadence of Gothic architecture commenced through care bestowed +on window tracery for itself instead of as an avenue or vehicle +for the admission of light. Read “words” for +tracery, “thought” for light, and we see how +inspiration avenges itself so soon as diction is made paramount; +artifice, which demands and misses watchful self-concealment, +passes into mannerism; we have lost the incalculable charm of +spontaneity. Comparison of “Eothen” with the +“Crimea” will I think exemplify this truth. The +first, to use Matthew Arnold’s imagery, is Attic, the last +has declined to the Corinthian; it remains a great, an amazingly +great production; great in its pictorial force, its omnipresent +survey, verbal eloquence, firm grasp, marshalled delineation of +multitudinous and entangled matter; but it is not unique amongst +martial records as “Eothen” is unique amongst books +of travel: it is through “Eothen” that its author has +soared into a classic, and bids fair to hold his <a +name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 89</span>place. +And, apart from the merit of style, great campaigns lose interest +in a third, if not in a second generation; their historical +consequence effaced through lapse of years; their policy seen to +have been nugatory or mischievous; their chronicles, swallowed +greedily at the birth like Saturn’s progeny, returning to +vex their parent; relegated finally to an honourable exile in the +library upper shelves, where they hold a place eyed curiously, +not invaded:</p> + +<blockquote><p> “devoured<br +/> +As fast as they are made, forgot as soon<br /> +As done. . . . To have done, is to hang<br /> +Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail,<br /> +In monumental mockery.”</p> +</blockquote> +<h2><a name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +90</span>CHAPTER V<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">MADAME NOVIKOFF</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Cabinet Edition of “The +Invasion of the Crimea” appeared in 1877, shortly after the +Servian struggle for independence, which aroused in England +universal interest and sympathy. Kinglake had heard from +the lips of a valued lady friend the tragic death-tale of her +brother Nicholas Kiréeff, who fell fighting as a volunteer +on the side of the gallant Servian against the Turk: and, much +moved by the recital, offered to honour the memory of the dead +hero in the Preface to his forthcoming edition. He kept his +word; made sympathetic reference to M. Kiréeff in the +opening of his Preface; but passed in pursuance of his original +design to a hostile impeachment of Russia, its people, its +church, its ruler. This was an error of judgment and of +feeling; and the lady, reading the manuscript, indignantly +desired him to burn the whole rather than commit the outrage <a +name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 91</span>of +associating her brother’s name with an attack on causes and +personages dear to him as to herself. Kinglake listened in +silence, then tendered to her a <i>crayon rouge</i>, begging her +to efface all that pained her. She did so; and, diminished +by three-fourths of its matter, the Preface appears in Vol. I. of +the Cabinet Edition. The erasure was no slight sacrifice to +an author of Kinglake’s literary sensitiveness, mutilating +as it did the integrity of a carefully schemed composition, and +leaving visible the scar. He sets forth the strongly +sentimental and romantic side of Russian temperament. Love +of the Holy Shrines begat the war of 1853, racial ardour the war +of 1876. The first was directed by a single will, the +second by national enthusiasm; yet the mind of Nicholas was no +less tossed by a breathless strife of opposing desires and moods +than was Russia at large by the struggle between Panslavism and +statesmanship. Kinglake paints vividly the imposing figure +of the young Kiréeff, his stature, beauty, bravery, the +white robe he wore incarnadined by death-wounds, his body +captured by the hateful foes. He goes on to tell how myth +rose like an exhalation round his memory: how legends of “a +giant piling up hecatombs by a <a name="page92"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 92</span>mighty slaughter” reverberated +through mansion and cottage, town and village, cathedral and +church; until thousands of volunteers rushed to arms that they +might go where young Kiréeff had gone. +Alexander’s hand was forced, and the war began, which but +for England’s intervention would have cleared Europe of the +Turk. We have the text, but not the sermon; the Preface +ends abruptly with an almost clumsy peroration.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p92b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Madame Novikoff" +title= +"Madame Novikoff" +src="images/p92s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>The lady who inspired both the eulogy and the curtailment was +Madame Novikoff, more widely known perhaps as O. K., with whom +Kinglake maintained during the last twenty years of life an +intimate and mutual friendship. Madame Olga Novikoff, +<i>née</i> Kiréeff, is a Russian lady of +aristocratic rank both by parentage and marriage. In a +lengthened sojourn at Vienna with her brother-in-law, the Russian +ambassador, she learned the current business of diplomacy. +An eager religious propagandist, she formed alliance with the +“Old Catholics” on the Continent, and with many among +the High Church English clergy; becoming, together with her +brother Alexander, a member of the <i>Réunion +Nationale</i>, a society for the union of Christendom. Her +interest in <a name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +93</span>education has led her to devote extensive help to school +and church building and endowment on her son’s +estate. God-daughter to the Czar Nicholas, she is a devoted +Imperialist, nor less in sympathy, as were all her family, with +Russian patriotism: after the death of her brother in Servia on +July 6/18, 1876, she became a still more ardent Slavophile. +The three articles of her creed are, she says, those of her +country, Orthodoxy, Autocracy, Nationalism. Her political +aspirations have been guided, and guided right, by her tact and +goodness of heart. Her life’s aim has been to bring +about a cordial understanding between England and her native +land; there is little doubt that her influence with leading +Liberal politicians, and her vigorous allocutions in the Press, +had much to do with the enthusiasm manifested by England for the +liberation of the Danubian States. Readers of the Princess +Lieven’s letters to Earl Grey will recall the part played +by that able ambassadress in keeping this country neutral through +the crisis of 1828–9; to her Madame Novikoff has been +likened, and probably with truth, by the Turkish Press both +English and Continental. She was accused in 1876 of playing +on the <a name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +94</span>religious side of Mr. Gladstone’s character to +secure his interest in the Danubians as members of the Greek +Church, while with unecclesiastical people she was said to be +equally skilful on the political side, converting at the same +time Anglophobe Russia by her letters in the “Moscow +Gazette.” Mr. Gladstone’s leanings to +Montenegro were attributed angrily in the English +“Standard” to Madame Novikoff: “A serious +statesman should know better than to catch contagion from the +petulant enthusiasm of a Russian Apostle.” The +contagion was in any case caught, and to some purpose; letter +after letter had been sent by the lady to the great statesman, +then in temporary retirement, without reply, until the last of +these, “a bitter cry of a sister for a sacrificed +brother,” brought a feeling answer from Mrs. Gladstone, +saying that her husband was deeply moved by the appeal, and was +writing on the subject. In a few days appeared his famous +pamphlet, “Bulgarian Horrors and the Question of the +East.”</p> +<p>Carlyle advised that Madame Novikoff’s scattered papers +should be worked into a volume; they appeared under the title +“Is Russia Wrong?” with a preface by Froude, <a +name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 95</span>the moderate +and ultra-prudent tone of which infuriated Hayward and Kinglake, +as not being sufficiently appreciative. Hayward declared +some woman had biassed him; Kinglake was of opinion that by +studying the <i>ètat</i> of Queen Elizabeth Froude had +“gone and turned himself into an old maid.”</p> +<p>Froude’s Preface to her next work, “Russia and +England, a Protest and an Appeal,” by O. K., 1880, was +worded in a very different tone and satisfied all her +friends. The book was also reviewed with highest praise by +Gladstone in “The Nineteenth Century.” Learning +that an assault upon it was contemplated in “The +Quarterly,” Kinglake offered to supply the editor, Dr. +Smith, with materials which might be so used as to neutralize a +<i>personal</i> attack upon O. K. Smith entreated him to +compose the whole article himself. “I could promise +you,” he writes, “that the authorship should be kept +a profound secret;” but this Kinglake seems to have thought +undesirable. The article appeared in April, 1880, under the +title of “The Slavonic Menace to Europe.” It +opens with a panegyric on the authoress: “She has mastered +our language with conspicuous success; she expostulates as easily +as she reproaches, and she <a name="page96"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 96</span>exhibits as much facility in barbing +shafts of satire as in framing specious excuses for daring acts +of diplomacy.” It insists on the high esteem felt for +her by both the Russian and Austrian governments, telling with +much humour an anecdote of Count Beust, the Prime Minister of +Austria during her residence in Vienna. The Count, after +meeting her at a dinner party at the Turkish Embassy, composed a +set of verses in her honour, and gave them to her, but she forgot +to mention them to her brother-in-law. The Prime Minister, +encountering the latter, asked his opinion of the verses; and the +ambassador was greatly amazed at knowing nothing of the matter. +<a name="citation96"></a><a href="#footnote96" +class="citation">[96]</a> From amenities towards the +authoress, the article passes abruptly to hostile criticism of +the book; declares it to be proscribed in Russia as mischievous, +and to have precipitated a general war by keeping up English +interest in <a name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +97</span>Servian rebellion. It sneers in doubtful taste at +the lady’s learning:</p> + +<blockquote><p> “sit +non doctissima conjux,<br /> +Sit nox cum somno, sit sine lite dies;”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>denounces the Slavs as incapable of being welded into a +nation, urging that their independence must destroy +Austria-Hungary, a consummation desired by Madame Novikoff, with +her feline contempt for “poor dear Austria,” but +which all must unite to prevent if they would avert a European +war.</p> +<p>How could one clear harp, men asked themselves as they read, +have produced so diverse tones? The riddle is solved when +we learn that the first part only was from Kinglake’s pen: +having vindicated his friend’s ability and good faith, her +right to speak and to be heard attentively, he left the survey of +her views, with which he probably disagreed, to the originally +assigned reviewer. The article, Madame Novikoff tells us in +the “Nouvelle Revue,” was received <i>avec une +stupefaction unanime</i>. It formed the general talk for +many days, was attributed to Lord Salisbury, was supposed to have +been inspired by Prince Gortschakoff. The name standing +against it in Messrs. Murray’s books, as they <a +name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 98</span>kindly inform +me, is that of a writer still alive, and better known now than +then, but they never heard that Kinglake had a hand in it; the +editor would seem to have kept his secret even from the +publishers. Kinglake sent the article in proof to the lady; +hoped that the facts he had imparted and the interpolations he +had inserted would please her; he could have made the attack on +Russia more pointed had he written it; she would think the +leniency shows a fault on the right side; he did not know the +writer of this latter part. He begged her to acquaint her +friends in Moscow what an important and majestic organ is +“The Quarterly,” how weighty therefore its laudation +of herself. She recalls his bringing her soon afterwards an +article on her, written, he said, in an adoring tone by Laveleye +in the “Revue des Deux Mondes,” and directing her to +a paper in “Fraser,” by Miss Pauline Irby, a +passionate lover of the “Slav ragamuffins,” and a +worshipper of Madame Novikoff. He quotes with delight +Chenery’s approbation of her “Life of +Skobeleff”; he spoke of you “with a gleam of +kindliness in his eyes which really and truly I had never +observed before.” “The Times” quotes her +as the “eloquent <a name="page99"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 99</span>authoress of ‘Russia and +England’”; “fancy that from your enemy! you are +getting even ‘The Times’ into your net.” +A later article on O. K. contains some praise, but more +abuse. Hayward is angry with it; Kinglake thinks it more +friendly than could have been expected “to <i>you</i>, a +friend of <i>me</i>, their old open enemy: the sugar-plums were +meant for you, the sprinklings of soot for me.”</p> +<p>Besides “Russia and England” Madame Novikoff is +the author of “Friends or Foes?—is Russia +wrong?” and of a “Life of Skobeleff,” the hero +of Plevna and of Geok Tepé. From her natural +endowments and her long familiarity with Courts, she has acquired +a capacity for combining, controlling, entertaining social +“circles” which recalls <i>les salons +d’autrefois</i>, the drawing-rooms of an Ancelot, a Le +Brun, a Récamier. Residing in several European +capitals, she surrounds herself in each with persons +intellectually eminent; in England, where she has long spent her +winters, Gladstone, Carlyle and Froude, Charles Villiers, Bernal +Osborne, Sir Robert Morier, Lord Houghton, and many more of the +same high type, formed her court and owned her influence.</p> +<p>Kinglake first met her at Lady Holland’s in <a +name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 100</span>1870, and +mutual liking ripened rapidly into close friendship. During +her residences in England few days passed in which he did not +present himself at her drawing-room in Claridge’s Hotel: +when absent in Russia or on the Continent, she received from him +weekly letters, though he used to complain that writing to a lady +through the <i>poste restante</i> was like trying to kiss a nun +through a double grating. These letters, all faithfully +preserved, I have been privileged to see; they remind me, in +their mixture of personal with narrative charm, of Swift’s +“Letters to Stella”; except that Swift’s are +often coarse and sometimes prurient, while Kinglake’s +chivalrous admiration for his friend, though veiled occasionally +by graceful banter, is always respectful and refined. They +even imitate occasionally the “little language” of +the great satirist; if Swift was Presto, Kinglake is “Poor +dear me”; if Stella was M. D., Madame Novikoff is “My +dear Miss.” This last endearment was due to an +incident at a London dinner table. A story told by Hayward, +seasoned as usual with <i>gros sel</i>, amused the more +sophisticated English ladies present, but covered her with +blushes. Kinglake perceived it, and said to her afterwards, +“I thought <a name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +101</span>you were a hardened married woman; I am glad that you +are not; I shall henceforth call you <i>Miss</i>.” +Sometimes he rushes into verse. In answer to some pretended +rebuff received from her at Ryde he writes</p> +<blockquote><p>“There was a young lady of Ryde, so awfully +puffed up by pride,<br /> + She felt grander by far than the Son of the Czar,<br +/> +And when he said, ‘Dear, come and walk on the pier,<br /> + Oh please come and walk by my side;’<br /> +The answer he got, was ‘Much better not,’ from that +awful young lady of Ryde.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Oftenest, the letters are serious in their admiring +compliments; they speak of her superb organization of health and +life and strength and joyousness, the delightful sunshine of her +presence, her decision and strength of will, her great qualities +and great opportunities: “away from you the world seems a +blank.” He is glad that his Great Eltchi has been +made known to her; the old statesman will be impressed, he feels +sure, by her “intense life, graciousness and grace, +intellect carefully masked, musical faculty in talk, with that +heavenly power of coming to an end.” He sends +playfully affectionate messages from other members of the +<i>Gerontaion</i>, as he calls it, the group of aged admirers who +<a name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 102</span>formed +her inner court; echoing their laments over the universality of +her patronage. “Hayward can pardon your having an +ambassador or two at your <i>feet</i>, but to find the way to +your <i>heart</i> obstructed by a crowd of astronomers, +Russ-expansionists, metaphysicians, theologians, translators, +historians, poets;—this is more than he can endure. +The crowd reduces him, as Ampère said to Mme. +Récamier, to the qualified blessing of being only <i>chez +vous</i>, from the delight of being <i>avec +vous</i>.” He hails and notifies additions to the +list of her admirers; quotes enthusiastic praise of her from +Stansfeld and Charles Villiers, warm appreciation from Morier, +Sir Robert Peel, Violet Fane. He rallies her on her +victims, jests at Froude’s lover-like +<i>galanterie</i>—“Poor St. Anthony! how he hovered +round the flame”;—at the devotion of that gay +Lothario, Tyndall, whose approaching marriage will, he thinks, +clip his wings for flirtation. “It seems that at the +Royal Institution, or whatever the place is called, young women +look up to the Lecturers as priests of Science, and go to them +after the lecture in what churchmen would call the vestry, and +express charming little doubts about electricity, and pretty +gentle disquietudes about the solar <a name="page103"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 103</span>system: and then the Professors have +to give explanations;—and then, somehow, at the end of a +few weeks, they find they have provided themselves with chaperons +for life.” So he pursues the list of devotees; her +son will tell her that Cæsar summarized his conquests in +this country by saying <i>Veni</i>, <i>Vidi</i>, <i>Vici</i>; but +to her it is given to say, <i>Veni</i>, <i>Videbar</i>, +<i>Vici</i>.</p> +<p>On two subjects, theology and politics, Madame Novikoff was, +as we have seen, passionately in earnest. Himself at once +an amateur casuist and a consistent Nothingarian, whose dictum +was that “Important if true” should be written over +the doors of churches, he followed her religious arguments much +as Lord Steyne listened to the contests between Father Mole and +the Reverend Mr. Trail. He expresses his surprise in all +seriousness that the Pharisees, a thoughtful and cultured set of +men, who alone among the Jews believed in a future state, should +have been the very men to whom our Saviour was habitually +antagonistic. He refers more lightly and frequently to +“those charming talks of ours about our Churches”; he +thinks they both know how to <i>effleurer</i> the surface of +theology without <a name="page104"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +104</span>getting drowned in it. Of existing Churches he +preferred the English, as “the most harmless going”; +disliked the Latin Church, especially when intriguing in the +East, as persecuting and as schismatic, and therefore as no +Church at all. Roman Catholics, he said, have a special +horror of being called “schismatic,” and that is, of +course, a good reason for so calling them. He would not +permit the use of the word “orthodox,” because, like +a parson in the pulpit, it is always begging the question. +He refused historical reverence to the Athanasian Creed, and was +delighted when Stanley’s review in “The Times” +of Mr. Ffoulkes’ learned book showed it to have been +written by order of Charles the Great in 800 <span +class="GutSmall">A.D.</span> as what Thorold Rogers used to call +“an election squib.” In the +“Filioque” controversy, once dear to Liddon and to +Gladstone, now, I suppose, obsolete for the English mind, but +which relates to the chief dividing tenet of East from West, he +showed an interest humorous rather than reverent; took pains to +acquaint himself with the views held on it by Döllinger and +the old Catholics; noted with amusement the perplexity of London +ladies as to the meaning of the word when quoted in the much-read +“Quarterly” article, declaring their <a +name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 105</span>belief to +be that it was a clergyman’s baby born out of wedlock.</p> +<p>Madame Novikoff’s political influence, which he +recognized to the full, he treated in the same mocking +spirit. She is at Berlin, received by Bismarck; he hopes +that though the great man may not eradicate her Slavophile +heresies, he may manifest the weakness of embroiling nations on +mere ethnological grounds. “Are even nearer +relationships so delightful? would you walk across the street for +a third or fourth cousin? then why for a millionth +cousin?” Madame Novikoff kindly sends to me an +“Imaginary Conversation” between herself and +Gortschakoff, constructed by Kinglake during her stay in St. +Petersburg in 1879.</p> +<p>“<i>G.</i> Well—you really have done good +service to your country and your Czar by dividing and confusing +these absurd English, and getting us out of the scrape we were in +in that—Balkan Peninsula.</p> +<p>“<i>Miss O.</i> Well, certainly I did my best; but +I fear I have ruined the political reputation of my English +partizans, for in order to make them ‘beloved of the +Slave,’ I of course had to make them, poor souls! go +against their own country; <a name="page106"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 106</span>and their country, stupid as it is, +has now I fear found them out.</p> +<p>“<i>G.</i> <i>Tant pis pour eux</i>! +<i>Entre nous</i>, if I had been Gladstone, I should have +preferred the love of my own country to the love of +these—Slaves of yours. But, tell me, how did you get +hold of Gladstone?</p> +<p>“<i>Miss O.</i> <i>Rien de plus simple</i>! +Four or five years ago I asked what was his weak point, and was +told that he had two, ‘Effervescence,’ and +‘Theology.’ With that knowledge I found it all +child’s play to manage him. I just sent him to +Munich, and there boiled him up in a weak decoction of +‘Filioque,’ then kept him ready for use, and +impatiently awaited the moment when our plans for getting up the +‘Bulgarian atrocities’ should be mature. I say +‘impatiently,’ for, Heavens, how slow you all were! +at least so it strikes a woman. The arrangement of the +‘atrocities’ was begun by our people in 1871, and yet +till 1876, though I had Gladstone ready in 1875, nothing really +was done! I assure you, Prince, it is a trying thing to a +woman to be kept waiting for promised atrocities such an +unconscionable time.</p> +<p>“<i>G.</i> That brother-in-law of yours was partly +the cause of our slowness. He was always <a +name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 107</span>wanting to +have the orders for fire and blood in neat formal despatches, +signed by me, and copied by clerks. However, I hope you are +satisfied now, with the butcheries and the flames, and the +—?</p> +<p>“<i>Miss O.</i> <i>Pour le moment</i>!”</p> +<p>She is absent during the sudden dissolution of Parliament in +1874. “London woke yesterday morning and found that +your friend Gladstone had made a +<i>coup-d’état</i>. He has dissolved +Parliament at a moment when no human being expected it, and my +impression is that he has made a good hit, and that the renovated +Parliament will give him a great majority.” The impression +was wildly wrong; and he found a cause for the Conservative +majority in Gladstone’s tame foreign policy, and especially +in the pusillanimity his government showed when insulted by +Gortschakoff. He always does justice to her influence with +Gladstone; his great majority at the polls in 1880 is <i>her</i> +victory and <i>her</i> triumph; but his Turkophobia is no less +her creation: “England is stricken with incapacity because +you have stirred up the seething caldron that boils under +Gladstone’s skull, putting in diabolical charms and poisons +of theology to overturn the structure of English <a +name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +108</span>polity:” she will be able, he thinks, to tell her +government that Gladstone is doing his best to break up the +British Empire.</p> +<p>He quotes with approbation the newspaper comparison of her to +the Princess Lieven. She disparages the famous +ambassadress; he sets her right. Let her read the +“Correspondence,” by his friend Mr. Guy Le Strange, +and she will see how large a part the Princess played in keeping +England quiet during the war of 1828–29. She did not +convert her austere admirer, Lord Grey, to approval of the +Russian designs, nor overcome the uneasiness with which the Duke +of Wellington regarded her intrigues; but the Foreign Minister, +Lord Aberdeen, was apparently a fool in her hands; and, whoever +had the merit, the neutrality of England continued. That +was, he repeats more than once, a most critical time for Russia; +it was an object almost of life and death to the Czar to keep +England dawdling in a state of actual though not avowed +neutrality. It is, he argued, a matter of fact, that +precisely this result was attained, and “I shall be slow to +believe that Madame de Lieven did not deserve a great share of +the glory (as you would think it) of making England act weakly +under such <a name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +109</span>circumstances; more especially since we know that the +Duke did not like the great lady, and may be supposed to have +distinctly traced his painful embarrassment to her +power.” So the letters go, interspersed with news, +with criticisms of notable persons, with comments enlightening or +cynical on passing political events: with personal matters only +now and then; as when he notes the loss of his two sisters; +dwells with unwonted feeling on the death of his eldest nephew by +consumption; condoles with her on her husband’s illness; +gives council, wise or playful, as to the education of her +son. “I am glad to hear that he is good at Greek, +Latin, and Mathematics, for that shows his cleverness; glad also +to hear that he is occasionally naughty, for that shows his +force. I advise you to claim and exercise as much control +as possible, because I am certain that a woman—especially +so gifted a one as you—knows more, or rather feels more, +about the right way of bringing up a boy than any mere +man.”</p> +<p>Unbrokenly the correspondence continues: the intimacy added +charm, interest, fragrance to his life, brought out in him all +that was genial, playful, humorous. He fights the +admonitions <a name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +110</span>of coming weakness; goes to Sidmouth with a sore +throat, but takes his papers and his books. It is, he says, +a deserted little sea-coast place. “Mrs. Grundy has a +small house there, but she does not know me by sight. If +Madame Novikoff were to come, the astonished little town, dazzled +first by her, would find itself invaded by theologians, bishops, +ambassadors of deceased emperors, and an +ex-Prime-Minister.” But as time goes on he speaks +more often of his suffering throat; of gout, increasing deafness, +only half a voice: his last letter is written in July, 1890, to +condole with his friend upon her husband’s death. In +October his nurse takes the pen; Madame Novikoff comes back +hurriedly from Scotland to find him in his last illness. +“It is very nice,” he told his nurse, “to see +dear Madame Novikoff again, but I am going down hill fast, and +cannot hope to be well enough to see much of her.” +This is in November, 1890; on New Year’s Eve came the +inexorable, “Terminator of delights and Separator of +friends.”</p> +<h2><a name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +111</span>CHAPTER VI<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">LATER DAYS, AND DEATH</span></h2> +<p><span class="smcap">For</span> twenty years Kinglake lived in +Hyde Park Place, in bright cheerful rooms looking in one +direction across the Park, but on another side into a +churchyard. The churchyard, Lady Gregory tells us, gave him +pause on first seeing the rooms. “I should not like +to live here, I should be afraid of ghosts.” +“Oh no, sir, there is always a policeman round the +corner.” <a name="citation111"></a><a href="#footnote111" +class="citation">[111]</a> “Pleaceman X.” has +not, perhaps, before been revered as the Shade-compelling son of +Maia:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Tu pias lætis animas reponis<br /> +Sedibus, <i>virgaque levem coerces</i><br /> +<i>Aurea turbam</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Here he worked through the morning; the afternoon took him to +the “Travellers,” where his friends, Sir Henry +Bunbury and Mr. Chenery, usually expected him; then at eight <a +name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +112</span>o’clock, if not, as Shylock says, bid forth, he +went to dine at the Athenæum. His dinner seat was in +the left-hand corner of the coffee-room, where, in the thirties, +Theodore Hook had been wont to sit, gathering near him so many +listeners to his talk, that at Hook’s death in 1841 the +receipts for the club dinners fell off to a large amount. +Here, in the “Corner,” as they called it, round +Kinglake would be Hayward, Drummond Wolff, Massey, Oliphant, +Edward Twisleton, Strzelecki, Storks, Venables, Wyke, Bunbury, +Gregory, American Ticknor, and a few more; Sir W. Stirling +Maxwell, when in Scotland, sending hampers of pheasants to the +company. “Hurried to the Athenæum for +dinner,” says Ticknor in 1857, “and there found +Kinglake and Sir Henry Rawlinson, to whom were soon added Hayward +and Stirling. We pushed our tables together and had a jolly +dinner. . . . To the Athenæum; and having dined pleasantly +with Merivale, Kinglake, and Stirling, I hurried off to the +House.” In later years, when his voice grew low and +his hearing difficult, he preferred that the diners should +resolve themselves into little groups, assigning to himself a +<i>tête-à-tête</i>, with whom at his ease he +could unfold himself.</p> +<p><a name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 113</span>No +man ever fought more gallantly the encroachments of old +age—<i>on sut être jeune jusque dans ses vieux +jours</i>. At seventy-four years old, staying with a friend +at Brighton, he insisted on riding over to Rottingdean, where Sir +Frederick Pollock was staying. “I mastered,” he +said, in answer to remonstrances, “I mastered the +peculiarities of the Brighton screw before you were born, and +have never forgotten them.” Vaulting into his saddle +he rode off, returning with a schoolboy’s delight at the +brisk trot he had found practicable when once clear of the +King’s Road. Long after his hearing had failed, his +sight become grievously weakened, and his limbs not always +trustworthy, he would never allow a cab to be summoned for him +after dinner, always walking to his lodgings. But he had to +give up by and by his daily canter in Rotten Row, and more +reluctantly still his continental travel. Foreign railways +were closed to him by the <i>Salle d’Attente</i>; he could +not stand incarceration in the waiting-rooms.</p> +<p>The last time he crossed the Channel was at the close of the +Franco-Prussian war, on a visit to his old friend M. Thiers, then +President. It was a dinner to deputies of the Extreme Left, +and Kinglake was the only Englishman; “so,” he <a +name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 114</span>said, +“among the servants there was a sort of reasoning process +as to my identity, ending in the conclusion, ‘<i>il doit +être Sir Dilke</i>.’” Soon the inference +was treated as a fact; and in due sequence came newspaper +paragraphs declaring that the British Ambassador had gravely +remonstrated with the President for inviting Sir Charles Dilke to +his table. Then followed articles defending the course +taken by the President, and so for some time the ball was kept +up. The remonstrance of the Ambassador was a myth, Lord +Lyons was a friend of Sir Charles; but the latter was suspect at +the time both in England and France; in England for his speeches +and motion on the Civil List; in France, because, with Frederic +Harrison, he had helped to get some of the French Communists away +from France; and the French Government was watching him with +spies. In Sir Charles’s motion Kinglake took much +interest, refusing to join in the cry against it as +disloyal. Sir Charles, he said, spoke no word against the +Queen; and only brought the matter before the House because +challenged to repeat in Parliament the statements he had made in +the country. As a matter of policy he thought it mistaken: +“Move in such a matter <a name="page115"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 115</span>openly, and party discipline compels +your defeat; bring pressure to bear on a Cabinet, some of its +members are on your side, and you may gain your +point.” Sir Charles’s speech was calmly +argumentative, and to many minds convincing; it provoked a +passionate reply from Gladstone; and when Mr. Auberon Herbert +following declared himself a Republican, a tumult arose such as +in those pre-Milesian days had rarely been witnessed in the +House. But the wisdom of Kinglake’s counsel is +sustained by the fact that many years afterwards, as a result of +more private discussion, Mr. Gladstone pronounced his conversion +to the two bases of the motion, publicity, and the giving of the +State allowance to the head of the family rather than, person by +person, to the children and grandchildren of the Sovereign. +Action pointing in this direction was taken in 1889 and 1901 on +the advice of Tory ministers.</p> +<p>Amongst Frenchmen of the highest class, intellectually and +socially, he had many valued friends, keeping his name on the +“Cosmopolitan” long after he had ceased to visit it, +since “one never knows when the distinguished foreigner may +come upon one, and of such the <a name="page116"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 116</span>Cosmo is the London +Paradise.” But he used to say that in the other world +a good Frenchman becomes an Englishman, a bad Englishman becomes +a Frenchman. He saw in the typical Gaul a compound of the +tiger and the monkey; noted their want of individuality, their +tendency to go in flocks, their susceptibility to panic and to +ferocity, to the terror that makes a man kill people, and +“the terror that makes him lie down and beg.” +We remember, too, his dissection of St. Arnaud, as before all +things a type of his nation; “he impersonated with singular +exactness the idea which our forefathers had in their minds when +they spoke of what they called ‘a Frenchman;’ for +although (by cowing the rich and by filling the poor with envy), +the great French Revolution had thrown a lasting gloom on the +national character, it left this one man untouched. He was +bold, gay, reckless, vain; but beneath the mere glitter of the +surface there was a great capacity for administrative business, +and a more than common willingness to take away human +life.”</p> +<p>“I relish,” Kinglake said in 1871, “the +spectacle of Bismarck teaching the A B C of Liberal politics to +the hapless French. His <a name="page117"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 117</span>last <i>mot</i>, they tell me, is +this. Speaking of the extent to which the French Emperor +had destroyed his own reputation and put an end to the worship of +the old Napoleon, he said: ‘He has killed himself and +buried his uncle.’” Again, in 1874, noting the +<i>contre coup</i> upon France resulting from the Bismarck and +Arnim despatches, he said: “What puzzles the poor dear +French is to see that truth and intrepid frankness consist with +sound policy and consummate wisdom. How funny it would be, +if the French some day, as a novelty, or what they would call a +<i>caprice</i>, were to try the effect of truth; “though +not naturally honest,” as Autolycus says, “were to +become so by chance.”</p> +<p>He thought M. Gallifet <i>dans sa logique</i> in liking the +Germans and hating Bismarck; for the Germans, in having their own +way, would break up into as many fragments as the best Frenchman +could desire, and Bismarck is the real suppressor of +France. Throughout the Franco-Prussian war he sided +strongly with the Prussians, refusing to dine in houses where the +prevailing sympathy with France would make him unwelcome as its +declared opponent; but he felt “as a nightmare” the +attack on prostrate Paris, “as a blow” the +capitulation <a name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +118</span>of Metz; denouncing Gambetta and his colleagues as +meeting their disasters only with slanderous shrieks, +“possessed by the spirit of that awful Popish +woman.” Bismarck as a statesman he consistently +admired, and deplored his dismissal. I see, he said, all +the peril implied by Bismarck’s exit, and the advent of his +ambitious young Emperor. It is a transition from the known +to the unknown, from wisdom, perhaps, to folly.</p> +<p>His Crimean volumes continued to appear; in 1875, 1880, +finally in 1887; while the Cabinet Edition was published in +1887–8. This last contained three new Prefaces; in +Vol. I. as we have seen, the memorial of Nicholas Kiréeff; +in Vol. II. the latter half of the original Preface to Vol. I., +cancelled thence at Madame Novikoff’s request, though now +carefully modified so as to avoid anything which might irritate +Russia at a moment when troubles seemed to be clearing +away. In his Preface to Vol. VII. he had three objects, to +set right the position of Sir E. Hamley, who had been neglected +in the despatches; to demolish his friend Lord Bury, who had +“questioned my omniscience” in the “Edinburgh +Review”; and to exonerate England at large from absurd +self-congratulations about <a name="page119"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 119</span>the “little Egypt +affair,” the blame of such exaggeration resting with those +whom he called State Showmen.</p> +<p>Silent to acquaintances about the progress of his work, he was +communicative to his few intimates, though never reading aloud +extracts or allowing them to be seen. In 1872 he would +speak pathetically of his “Crimean muddle,” +perplexed, as he well might be, by the intricacies of +Inkerman. Asked if he will not introduce a Te Deum on the +fall of Louis Napoleon, he answered that to write without the +stimulus of combat would be a task beyond his energy; “when +I took the trouble to compose that fourteenth chapter, the +wretched Emperor and his gang were at the height of their power +in Europe and the world; but now!” He was insatiate as to +fresh facts: utilized his acquaintance with Todleben, whom he had +first met on his visit to England in 1864; sought out Prince +Ourusoff at a later time, and inserted particulars gleaned from +him in Vol. IX., Chapter V.</p> +<p>In 1875 he told Madame Novikoff that his task was done so far +as Inkerman was concerned, and was proud to think that he had +rescued from oblivion the heroism of the Russian troops in what +he calls the “Third Period” <a +name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 120</span>of the +great fight, ignored as it was by all Russian historians of the +war. He made fruitless inquiries after a paper said to have +been left behind him by Skobeleff, explaining that “India +is a cherry to be eaten by Russia, but in two bites”; it +was contrary to the general’s recorded utterances and +probably apocryphal. Russophobe as regarded Turkey, he +sneered at England’s sentimental support of nationalities +as “Platonic”: a capital epithet he called it, and +envied the Frenchman who applied it to us, declaring that it had +turned all the women against us. He was moved by receiving +Korniloff’s portrait with a kind message from the dead +hero’s family, seeing in the features a confirmation of the +ideal which he had formed in his own mind and had tried to convey +to others. Readers of his book will recall the fine tribute +to Korniloff’s powers, and the description of his death, in +Chapters VI. and XIII. of Vol. IV. (Cabinet Edition).</p> +<p>Many of his comments on current events are preserved in the +notes or in the memories of his friends. Sometimes these +were characteristically cynical. He ridiculed the newspaper +parade of national sympathy with the Prince of Wales’s +illness: “We are represented as all members of <a +name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 121</span>the royal +family, and all in family hysterics.” Dizzy’s +orientalization of Queen Victoria into an Empress angered him, as +it angered many more. The last Empress Regnant, he said, +was Catherine II. and it seems to be thought that by advising the +Queen to take that great monarch’s title, we shall exercise +a wholesome influence on the morals of our women. He would +quote Byron’s</p> + +<blockquote><p> “Russia’s +mighty Empress<br /> +Behaved no better than a common sempstress;”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“there was an old-fashioned sacredness, which, however +foolish intrinsically, was still useful, in our title of +‘The Queen’; nor do we see the policy of adding a +<i>Suprême de Volaille</i> to the bread and wine of our +Sacrament.”</p> +<p>He chuckled over the indignation of the <i>haute +volée</i>, when on the visit to England of President +Grant’s daughter in 1872, Americans in London sent out +cards of invitation headed “To meet Miss Grant,” as +at a profane imitation of a practice hitherto confined to +royalties; laughing not at the legitimate American mimicry of +European consequence, but at the silly formalists in Society who +fumed over the imagined presumption. Consulted by an +invalid as to the <a name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +122</span>charm of Ostend for a seaside residence, he limited it +to persons of gregarious habits; “the people are all driven +down to the beach like a flock of sheep in the morning, and in +the evening they are all driven back to their folds.” +He reported a feeble drama written by his ancient idol, Lord +Stratford de Redcliffe; “it is a painful thing to see a man +of his quality and of his age unduly detained in the world; when +the Emperor Nicholas died, the Eltchi lost his <i>raison +d’être</i>.” He disparaged the wild fit +of morality undergone by the “Pall Mall Gazette” +during the scandalous “Maiden Tribute” revelation, +pronouncing its protegées to be “clever little +devils.” He was greatly startled by +Gortschakoff’s famous circular, annulling the Black Sea +clause in the Treaty of Paris, and much relieved by +Bismarck’s dexterous interposition, which saved the +susceptibility of Europe, and especially of England, by yielding +as a favour to the demand of Russia what no one was in a position +to refuse; but he maintained, and Lord Stratford agreed with him, +that Gortschakoff’s precipitate act was governed by +circumstances never revealed to mankind. He learned, too, +that it caused the Chancellor to be +<i>déconsideré</i> in high Russian circles; he was +called <a name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +123</span>“<i>un Narcisse qui se mire dans son +encrier</i>.” Kinglake used to say that in conceding +the right of the Sultan to exclude any war-flag from the +Bosphorus and the Dardanelles, Russia was treating Turkey as a +bag-fox, to be gently hunted occasionally, but not mangled or +killed; and he felt keenly the ridicule resting on the allies, +who were compelled to surrender the neutralization purchased at +the cost of so much blood and treasure. He watched with +much amusement the restoration of Turkish self-confidence. +“Turkey believes that he is no longer a sick man, and is +turning all his doctors out of the house, to the immense +astonishment of the English doctor, so conscious of his own +rectitude that he cannot understand being sent off with the +quacks. You know in our beautiful Liturgy we have a prayer +for the Turks; it looks as if our supplications had become +successful.” His interest in Turkey never +flagged. “I am in a great fright,” he said in +1877, “about my dear Turks, because Russia gives virtual +command of the army before Plevna to Todleben, a really great +<i>homme de guerre</i>.”</p> +<p>Russophobia was at that time so strong in London that Madame +Novikoff hesitated to visit England, and he himself feared that +she <a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +124</span>might find it uncomfortable. Her alarm, however, +was ridiculed by Hayward, “most faithful of the +Russianisers, ready to do battle for Russia at any moment, +declaring her to be quite virtuous, with no fault but that of +being <i>incomprise</i>.” But he groaned over the +humiliation of England under Russia’s bold stroke, noting +frequently a decay of English character which he ascribed to +chronic causes. The Englishman taken separately, he said, +seems much the same as he used to be; but there is a softening of +the aggregate brain which affects Englishmen when acting +together. He hailed the great Liberal victory of 1880, and +watched with interest, as one behind the scenes, the negotiations +which led to Lord Hartington’s withdrawal and Mr. +Gladstone’s resumption of power; for in these his friend +Hayward was an active go-between, removing by his tact and +frankness “hitches” which might otherwise have been +disastrous. He thought W. E. Forster’s attack on Mr. +Gladstone’s Irish policy in 1882 ill-managed for his own +position, his famous speech not sufficiently +“clenching.” Had he separated from his chief on +broader grounds, refusing complicity with a Minister who +consented to parley with the imprisoned Irishmen, <a +name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 125</span>he would, +Kinglake thought, have occupied a highly commanding +position. At present his difference from his colleagues was +one only of degree.</p> +<p>He was once beguiled, amongst friends very intimate, into +telling a dream. He dreamed that he was attending an +anatomical lecture—which, as a fact, he had never +done—and that his own body, from which he found himself +entirely separated, was the dissected subject on which the +lecturer discoursed. The body lay on a table beside the +lecturer, but he himself, his entity, was at the other end of the +room, on the furthest or highest of a set of benches raised one +above the other as at a theatre. He imagined himself in a +vague way to be disagreeing with the lecturer; but the strongest +impression on his mind was annoyance at being so badly placed, so +far from the professor and from his own body that he could not +see or hear without an effort. The dream, he pointed out, +showed this curious fact, that without any conscious design or +effort of the will a man may conceive himself to be in perfect +possession of his identity, whilst separated from his own body by +a distance of several feet. “The highest +concept,” said Jowett, “which man forms of himself is +as <a name="page126"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +126</span>detached from the body.” +(“Life,” ii. 241.) The lecture-room which he +imagined was one of the lower school-rooms at Eton, with which he +had been familiar in early days.</p> +<p>After Hayward’s death in 1884, his own habits began to +change. He still dined at the Athenæum +“corner,” but increasing deafness began to make +society irksome, and, his solitary meal ended, he spent his +evenings reading in the Library. By-and-by that too became +impossible. His voice grew weak, throat and tongue were +threatened with disease. In 1888 he went to Brighton with a +nurse, returned to rooms on Richmond Hill, then to Bayswater +Terrace. An operation was performed and he seemed to +recover, but relapsed. Old friends tended him: Madame +Novikoff, Mr. Froude and Mr. Lecky, Madame de Quaire and Mrs. +Brookfield, Lord Mexborough his ancient fellow-traveller, Mrs. +Craven, Sir William and Lady Gregory, with a few more, cheered +him by their visits so long as he was able to bear them; and his +brother and sister, Dr. and Mrs. Hamilton Kinglake, were with him +at the end. Patient to the last, kind and gentle to all +about him, he passed away quietly on New Year’s Day, +1891:</p> + +<blockquote><p> <a +name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +127</span>“being merry-hearted,<br /> +Shook hands with flesh and blood, and so departed.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>His remains were cremated at Woking, after a special service +at Christchurch, Lancaster Gate, attended by Dr. and Mrs. +Kinglake with their son Captain Kinglake, the Duke of Bedford, +Mr. and Mrs. Lecky, Mrs. W. H. Brookfield and her son +Charles.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>No good portrait of him has been published. That +prefixed to Blackwood’s “Eothen” of 1896 was +furnished by Dr. Kinglake, who, however, looked upon it as +unsatisfactory. The “Not an M.P.” of +“Vanity Fair,” 1872, is a grotesque caricature. +The photograph here reproduced (p. 128), by far the best likeness +extant, he gave to Madame Novikoff in 1870, receiving hers in +return, but pronouncing the transaction “an exchange +between the personified months of May and November.” +The face gives expression to the shy aloofness which, amongst +strangers, was characteristic of him through life. He had +even a horror of hearing his name pealed out by servants, and +came early to parties that the proclamation might be achieved +before as few auditors as possible. Visiting the newly +married husband of his <a name="page128"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 128</span>friend Adelaide Kemble, and being +the first guest to arrive, he encountered in Mr. Sartoris a host +as contentedly undemonstrative as himself. Bows passed, a +seat by the fire was indicated, he sat down, and the pair +contemplated one another for ten minutes in absolute silence, +till the lady of the house came in, like the prince in “The +Sleeping Beauty,” though not by the same process, to break +the charm. He gave up calling at a house where he was +warmly appreciated, because father, mother, daughter, bombarded +him with questions. “I never came away without +feeling sure that I had in some way perjured myself.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p128b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Kinglake in the early Seventies" +title= +"Kinglake in the early Seventies" +src="images/p128s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>On his shyness waited swiftly ensuing boredom; if his +neighbour at table were garrulous or <i>banale</i>, his face at +once betrayed conversational prostration; a lady who often +watched him used to say that his pulse ought to be felt after the +first course; and that if it showed languor he should be moved to +the side of some other partner. “He had great +charm,” writes to me another old friend, “in a quiet +winning way, but was ‘dark’ with rough and noisy +people.” So it came to pass that his manner was +threefold; icy and repellent with those who set his nerves on +edge; good-humoured, receptive, intermittently responsive <a +name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 129</span>in general +and congenial company; while, at ease with friends trusted and +beloved, the lines of the face became gracious, indulgent, +affectionate, the <i>sourire des yeux</i> often inexpressibly +winning and tender. “Kinglake,” says Eliot +Warburton in his unpublished diary, “talked to us to-day +about his travels; pessimistic and cynical to the rest of the +world, he is always gentle and kind to us.” To this +dear friend he was ever faithful, wearing to the day of his death +an octagonal gold ring engraved “Eliot. Jan: +1852.” He would never play the <i>raconteur</i> in +general company, for he had a great horror of repeating himself, +and, latterly, of being looked upon as a bore by younger men; but +he loved to pour out reminiscences of the past to an audience of +one or two at most: “Let an old man gather his +recollections and glance at them under the right angle, and his +life is full of pantomime transformation scenes.” The +chief characteristic of his wit was its unexpectedness; sometimes +acrid, sometimes humorous, his sayings came forth, like Topham +Beauclerk’s in Dr. Johnson’s day, like +Talleyrand’s in our own, poignant without effort. His +calm, gentle voice, contrasted with his startling caustic +utterance, reminded people of Prosper <a name="page130"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 130</span>Mérimée: terse +epigram, felicitous <i>apropos</i>, whimsical presentment of the +topic under discussion, emitted in a low tone, and without the +slightest change of muscle:</p> +<blockquote><p>“All the charm of all the Muses<br /> +Often flowering in a lonely word.” <a +name="citation130"></a><a href="#footnote130" +class="citation">[130]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Questions he would suavely and often wittily parry or repel: +to an unhistorical lady asking if he remembered Madame Du Barry, +he said, “my memory is very imperfect as to the particulars +of my life during the reign of Lous XV. and the Regency; but I +know a lady who has a teapot which belonged, she says, to Madame +Du Barry.” Madame Novikoff, however, records his +discomfiture at the query of a certain Lady E—, who, when +all London was ringing with his first Crimean volumes, asked him +if he were not an admirer of Louis Napoleon. “<i>Le +pauvre Kinglake, décontenancé</i>, <i>repondit tout +bas intimidé comme un enfant qu’on met dates le +coin</i>: <i>Oui—non—pas +précisément</i>.”</p> +<p>He had no knowledge of or liking for music. Present once +by some mischance at a <i>matinée </i><a +name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +131</span><i>musicale</i>, he was asked by the hostess what kind +of music he preferred. His preference, he owned, was for +the drum. One thinks of the “Bourgeois +Gentilhomme,” “<i>la trompette marine est un +instrument qui me plait, el qui est harmonieux</i>”; we are +reminded, too, of Dean Stanley, who, absolutely tone-deaf, and +hurrying away whenever music was performed, once from an +adjoining room in his father’s house heard Jenny Lind sing +“I know that my Redeemer liveth.” He went to +her shyly, and told her that she had given him an idea of what +people mean by music. Once before, he said in all +seriousness, the same feeling had come over him, when before the +palace at Vienna he had heard a tattoo rendered by four hundred +drummers.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Kinglake used to regret the disuse of duelling, as having +impaired the higher tone of good breeding current in his younger +days, and even blamed the Duke of Wellington for proscribing it +in the army. He had himself on one occasion sent a cartel, +and stood waiting for his adversary, like Sir Richard Strachan at +Walcheren, eight days on the French coast; but the adversary +never came. Hayward once referred to him, <a +name="page132"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 132</span>as a +counsellor, and if necessary a second, a quarrel with Lord +R—. Lord R—’s friend called on him, a +Norfolk squire, “broad-faced and breathing port +wine,” after the fashion of uncle Phillips in “Pride +and Prejudice,” who began in a boisterous voice, “I +am one of those, Mr. Kinglake, who believe R— to be a +gentleman.” In his iciest tones and stoniest manner +Kinglake answered: “That, Sir, I am quite willing to +assume.” The effect, he used to say, as he told and +acted the scene, was magical; “I had frozen him sober, and +we settled everything without a fight.” Of all his +friends Hayward was probably the closest; an association of +discrepancies in character, manner, temperament, not +complementary, but opposed and hostile; irreconcilable, one would +say, but for the knowledge that in love and friendship paradox +reigns supreme. Hayward was arrogant, overbearing, loud, +insistent, full of strange oaths and often unpardonably coarse; +“our dominant friend,” Kinglake called him; +“odious” is the epithet I have heard commonly +bestowed upon him by less affectionate acquaintances. +Kinglake was reserved, shy, reticent, with the high breeding, +grand manner, quiet urbanity, <i>grata protervitas</i>, of a +waning epoch; <a name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +133</span>restraint, concentration, tact of omission, dictating +alike his silence and his speech; his well-weighed words +“crystallizing into epigrams as they touched the +air.” <a name="citation133"></a><a href="#footnote133" +class="citation">[133]</a> When Hayward’s last +illness came upon him in 1884, Kinglake nursed him tenderly; +spending the morning in his friend’s lodgings at 8, St. +James’s Street, the house which Byron occupied in his early +London days; and bringing on the latest bulletin to the +club. The patient rambled towards the end; “we ought +to be getting ready to catch the train that we may go to my +sister’s at Lyme.” Kinglake quieted his sick friend +by an assurance that the servants, whom he would not wish to +hurry, were packing. “On no account hurry the +servants, but still let us be off.” The last thought +which he articulated while dying was, “I don’t +exactly know what it is, but I feel it is something +grand.” “Hayward is dead,” Kinglake wrote +to a common friend; “the devotion shown to him by all sorts +and conditions of men, and, what is better, of women, was +unbounded. Gladstone found time to be with him, and to +engage him in a conversation of <a name="page134"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 134</span>singular interest, of which he has +made a memorandum.”</p> +<p>Another of Kinglake’s life-long familiars was Charles +Skirrow, Taxing Master in Chancery, with his accomplished wife, +from whose memorable fish dinners at Greenwich he was seldom +absent, adapting himself no less readily to their theatrical +friends—the Bancrofts, Burnand, Toole, Irving—than to +the literary set with which he was more habitually at home. +He was religiously loyal to his friends, speaking of them with +generous admiration, eagerly defending them when attacked. +He lauded Butler Johnstone as the most gifted of the young men in +the House of Commons; would not allow Bernal Osborne to be called +untrue; “he offends people if you like, but he is never +false or hollow.” A clever <i>sobriquet</i> fathered +on him, burlesquing the monosyllabic names of a well-known +diarist and official, he repelled indignantly. “He is +my friend, and had I been guilty of the <i>jeu</i>, I should have +broken two of my commandments; that which forbids my joking at a +friend’s expense, and that which forbids my fashioning a +play upon words.” He entreated Madame Novikoff to +visit and cheer Charles Lever, dying at Trieste; deeply lamented +<a name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 135</span>Sir H. +Bulwer’s death: “I used to think his a beautiful +intellect, and he was wonderfully <i>simpatico</i> to +me.” But he was shy of condoling with bereaved +mourners, believing words used on such occasions to be utterly +untrue. He loved to include husband and wife in the same +meed of admiration, as in the case of Dean Stanley and Lady +Augusta, or of Sir Robert and Lady Emily Peel. Peel, he +said, has the <i>radiant</i> quality not easy to describe; Lady +Emily is always beauteous, bright, attractive. Lord +Stanhope he praised as a historian, paying him the equivocal +compliment that his books were much better than his +conversation. So, too, he qualified his admiration of Lady +Ashburton, dwelling on her beauty, silver voice, ready enthusiasm +apt to disperse itself by flying at too many objects.</p> +<p>He was wont to speak admiringly of Lord Acton, relating how, a +Roman Catholic, yet respecting enlightenment and devoted to +books, he once set up and edited a “Quarterly +Review,” with a notion of reconciling the Light and the +Dark as well as he could; but the “Prince of Darkness, the +Pope,” interposed, and ordered him to stop the +“Review.” He was compelled to obey; not, he +told people, on any religious <a name="page136"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 136</span>ground, but because relations and +others would have made his life a bore to him if he had been +contumacious against the Holy Father.</p> +<p>Kinglake was strongly attracted by W. E. Forster, a +“rough diamond,” spoken of at one time as a possible +Prime Minister. Beginning life, he said, as a Quaker, with +narrow opinions, his vigour of character and brain-power shook +them off. Powerful, robust, and perfectly honest, yet his +honesty inflicted on him a doubleness of view which caused him to +be described as engaging his two hands in two different +pursuits. His estimate of Sir R. Morier would have +gladdened Jowett’s heart; he loved him as a private friend; +eulogized his public qualities; rejoiced over his appointment as +Ambassador at St. Petersburg, seeing in him a diplomatist with +not only a keen intellect and large views, but vibrating with the +warmth, animation, friendliness, that are charmingly +<i>un</i>-diplomatic. Of Carlyle, his life-long, though not +always congenial intimate, he used to speak as having great +graphic power, but being essentially a humourist; a man who, with +those he could trust, never pretended to be in earnest, but used +to roar with glorious laughter over the fun of his own jeremiads; +“so far from <a name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +137</span>being a prophet he is a bad Scotch joker, and knows +himself to be a wind-bag.” He blamed Froude’s +revelations of Carlyle in “The Reminiscences,” as +injurious and offensive. Froude himself he often likened to +Carlyle; the thoughts of both, he said, ran in the same +direction, but of the two, Froude was by far the more +intellectual man.</p> +<p>Staunch friend to the few, polite, though never effusive, to +the many, he also nourished strong antipathies. The +appearance in Madame Novikoff’s rooms of a certain Scotch +bishop invariably drove him out of them, “Peter Paul, +Bishop of Claridge’s,” he called him. To Von +Beust (the Austrian Chancellor), who spoke English in a rapid +half-intelligible falsetto, he gave the name of <i>Mirliton</i> +(penny trumpet). His allusions to Mirliton and to the +Bishop frequently mystified Madame Novikoff’s guests. +For he loved to talk in cypher. Canon Warburton, kindly +searching on my behalf his brother Eliot’s journals, tells +me that he and Kinglake, meeting almost daily, lived in a cryptic +world of jokes, confidences, colloquialisms, inexplicable to all +but their two selves.</p> +<p>He cordially disliked “The Times” newspaper, +alleging instances of the unfairness with <a +name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 138</span>which its +columns had been used to spite and injure persons who had +offended it, chuckling over Hayward’s compact +anathema,—“‘The Times,’ which as usual of +late supplied its lack of argument and proof by assumption, +misrepresentation, and personality.” He thought that +its attacks upon himself had helped his popularity. +“One of the main causes,” he said in 1875, “of +the interest which people here were good enough to take in my +book was the fight between ‘The Times’ and me. +In 1863 it raged, in 1867 it was renewed with great violence, and +now I suppose the flame kindles once more, though probably with +diminished strength. In 1863 the storm of opinion generally +waxed fierce against me, but now, as I hear, ‘The +Times’ is alone, journals of all politics being loud in my +praise. But I never look at any comment on my volumes till +long afterwards, and I never in my life wrote to a +newspaper.” Once, when Chenery, the editor, came to +join the table at the Athenæum where he and Mr. Cartwright +were dining, Kinglake rose, and removed to another part of the +room. “The Times” had inserted a statement that +Madame Novikoff was ordered to leave England, and he thus +publicly resented <a name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +139</span>it. “So unlike me,” he said, relating +the story, “but somehow a savagery as of youth came over me +in my ancient days; it was like being twenty years old +again.” It came out, however, that “our +indiscreet friend Froude” had written something which +justified the paragraph, and Kinglake sent his <i>amende</i> to +Chenery, with whom ordinarily he was on most friendly terms.</p> +<p>He disliked Irishmen “in the lump,” saying that +human nature is the same everywhere except in Ireland. +Parnell he personally admired, though hating Home Rule; and +stigmatized as gross hypocrisy the desertion of him by Liberals +after the divorce trial. He was wont to speak irreverently +of Lord Beaconsfield, whom he had known well at Lady +Blessington’s in early days. He would have found +himself in accord with Huxley, who used to thank God, his friend +Mr. Fiske tells us, that he had never bowed the knee either to +Louis Napoleon or Benjamin Disraeli. He poured scorn on the +Treaty of Berlin. <a name="page140"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 140</span>Russia, he said, defeating the Turks +in war, has defeated Beaconsfield in diplomacy. If +Englishmen understood such things they would see that the +Congress was a comedy; anyone who will satisfy himself as to what +Russia was really anxious to obtain, and then look at the +Salisbury-Schouvaloff treaty, will see that, thanks to +Beaconsfield’s imbecility, Schouvaloff obtained one of the +most signal diplomatic triumphs that was ever won. <a +name="citation140"></a><a href="#footnote140" +class="citation">[140]</a> A <a name="page141"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 141</span>sound <i>entente</i> between Russia +and England he thought both possible and desirable; but conceived +<a name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 142</span>it to be +rendered difficult by the want of steadiness and capacity which, +for international <a name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +143</span>purposes, were the real faults of Lord Beaconsfield and +Lord Salisbury. He repeated with much amusement the current +anecdote of Lord Beaconsfield’s conquest of Mrs. +Gladstone. Meeting her in society, he was said to have +inquired with tenderness after Mr. Gladstone’s health, and +then after receiving the loving <a name="page144"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 144</span>wife’s report of her William, +to have rejoined in his most dulcet tones, “Ah! take care +of him, for he is very <i>very</i> precious.” He +always attributed Dizzy’s popularity to the feeling of +Englishmen that he had “shown them sport,” an +instinct, he thought, supreme in all departments of the English +mind.</p> +<p>Towards his old schoolfellow Gladstone he never felt quite +cordially, believing, rightly or wrongly, that the great +statesman nourished enmity towards himself. He called him, +as has been said, “a good man in the worst sense of the +term, conscientious with a diseased conscience.” He +watched with much amusement, as illustrating the moral twist in +Gladstone’s temperament, the “Colliery +explosion,” as it was called, when Sir R. Collier, the +Attorney-General, was appointed to a Puisne Judgeship, which he +held only for a day or two, in order to qualify him for a seat on +a new Court of Appeal; together with a very similar trick, by +which Ewelme Rectory, tenable only by an Oxonian, was given to a +Cambridge man. The responsibility was divided between +Gladstone and Lord Hatherley the Chancellor, with the mutual idea +apparently that each of the two became thereby individually <a +name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +145</span>innocent. But Sir F. Pollock, in his amusing +“Reminiscences,” recalls the amicable halving of a +wicked word between the Abbess of Andouillet and the Novice +Margarita in “Tristram Shandy.” It answered in +neither case. “‘They do not understand +us,’ cried Margarita. ‘<i>But the Devil +does</i>,’ said the Abbess of Andouillet.” The +Collier scandal narrowly escaped by two votes in the Lords, +twenty-seven in the Commons, a Parliamentary vote of censure, and +gave unquestionably a downward push to the Gladstone +Administration. Mr. Gladstone, on the other hand, cordially +admired Kinglake’s speeches, saying that few of those he +had heard in Parliament could bear so well as his the test of +publication.</p> +<p>To the great Prime Minister’s absolute fearlessness he +did full justice, as one of the finest features in his character; +and loved to quote an epigram by Lord Houghton, to whom Gladstone +had complained in a moment of weariness that he led the life of a +dog. “Yes,” said Houghton, “but of a St. +Bernard dog, ever busied in saving life.” He loved to +contrast the twofold biographical paradox in the careers of the +two famous rivals, Gladstone and Disraeli; the dreaming Tory +mystic, incarnation <a name="page146"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 146</span>of Oxford exclusiveness and Puseyite +reserve, passing into the Radical iconoclast; the Jew clerk in a +city lawyer’s office, “bad specimen of an inferior +dandy,” coming to rule the proudest aristocracy and lead +the most fastidious assembly in the world.</p> +<p>He was not above broad farce when the fancy seized him. +At the time when a certain kind of nonsense verse was popular, +he, with Sir Noel Paton and others, added not a few facetious +sonnets to Edward Lear’s book, which lay on Madame +Novikoff’s table. His authorship is betrayed by the +introduction of familiar Somersetshire names, Taunton, +Wellington, Curry Rivel, Creech, Trull, Wilton:</p> +<blockquote><p>“There was a young lady of Wilton,<br /> + Who read all the poems of Milton:<br /> +And, when she had done,<br /> +She said, ‘What bad fun!’<br /> + This prosaic young lady of Wilton.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>There were many more, but this will perhaps suffice; <i>ex +ungue leonem</i>. They were addressed to the “Fair +Lady of Claridge’s,” Madame Novikoff’s hotel +when in London, and were signed “Peter Paul, Bishop of +Claridge’s.”</p> +<blockquote><p>“There is a fair lady at +Claridge’s,<br /> +Whose smile is more charming to me,<br /> +<a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 147</span>Than the +rapture of ninety-nine marriages<br /> + Could possibly, possibly, be;—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>is the final dedicatory stanza. It is the gracious +fooling of a philosopher who understood his company. +“There are folks,” says Mr. Counsellor Pleydell, +“before whom a man should take care how he plays the fool, +because they have either too much malice or too little +wit.” Kinglake knew his associates, and was not +ashamed <i>desipere in loco</i>, to frolic in their presence.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>One point there was on which he never touched himself or +suffered others to interrogate him, his conception of and +attitude towards the Unseen. He wore his religion as Sir +William Gull wore the fur of his coat, <i>inside</i>. +Outwardly he died as he had lived, a Stoic; that on the most +personal and sacred of all topics he should consult the Silences +was in keeping with his idiosyncrasy. Another famous man, +questioned as to his religious creed, made answer that he +believed what all wise men believe. And what do all wise +men believe? “That all wise men keep to +themselves?”</p> +<h2><a name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +149</span>INDEX</h2> +<p>Abdu-l-Medjid, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page66">66</a></span>.</p> +<p>Aberdeen, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span>.</p> +<p>Acton, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span>.</p> +<p>Acton, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page7">7</a></span>.</p> +<p>Adams, J. Quincy, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page66">66</a></span>.</p> +<p>Airey, General, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page63">63</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page72">72</a></span>.</p> +<p>Alma, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page39">39</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page48">48</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page59">59</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page64">64</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page73">73</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ampère, M., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span>.</p> +<p>Anastasius, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page34">34</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ancelot, Mme., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>.</p> +<p>Arnold, Matthew, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page88">88</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ashburton, Lady, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ashburton, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>.</p> +<p>Athanasian Creed, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page104">104</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Bachaumont, M., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page87">87</a></span>.</p> +<p>Balaclava, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page74">74</a></span>–77.</p> +<p>Bazancourt, Baron de, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page48">48</a></span>.</p> +<p>Beaconsfield. <i>See</i> Disraeli.</p> +<p>Beauclerk, T., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page129">129</a></span>.</p> +<p>Beaufort, Duke of, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page39">39</a></span>.</p> +<p>Bedford, Duke of, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page127">127</a></span>.</p> +<p>Berlin Congress, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page139">139</a></span>, etc.</p> +<p>Beust, Count, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page96">96</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page137">137</a></span>.</p> +<p>Bismarck, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page105">105</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page116">116</a></span>–118, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page140">140</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page141">141</a></span>.</p> +<p>Blackwood, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page46">46</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page49">49</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page52">52</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page127">127</a></span>.</p> +<p>Blaygon Hills, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page25">25</a></span>.</p> +<p>Boissy, Marquis de, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span>.</p> +<p>Bosquet, General, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page74">74</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page76">76</a></span>.</p> +<p>Boyle, Dean, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page3">3</a></span>.</p> +<p>Bridgewater, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page40">40</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page43">43</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page45">45</a></span>.</p> +<p>Bright, John, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page68">68</a></span>.</p> +<p>Brocas Clump, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page22">22</a></span>.</p> +<p>Brookfield, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page127">127</a></span>.</p> +<p>Browning, R., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span>.</p> +<p>Buller, Charles, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>.</p> +<p>Bulwer-Lytton, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page19">19</a></span>.</p> +<p>Bulwer, Sir H., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span>.</p> +<p>Bunbury, Sir H., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page111">111</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Burghersh, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page65">65</a></span>.</p> +<p>Burnaby, Captain, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span>.</p> +<p>Burton. <i>See</i> Carrigaholt.</p> +<p>Bury, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page118">118</a></span>.</p> +<p>Byron, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page22">22</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page29">29</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Cabinet, Sleeping, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page61">61</a></span>.</p> +<p>Cagliari, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page41">41</a></span>.</p> +<p>Campbell, Colin, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page62">62</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page72">72</a></span>.</p> +<p>Cambridge, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span>.</p> +<p>Canning, Lady, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page66">66</a></span>.</p> +<p><a name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +150</span>Canning, Sir S. <i>See</i> Stratford.</p> +<p>Canrobert, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page71">71</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page79">79</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Caradoc,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page60">60</a></span>.</p> +<p>Carlisle, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page2">2</a></span>.</p> +<p>Carlyle, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page63">63</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page136">136</a></span>–137.</p> +<p>Carrigaholt, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page38">38</a></span>.</p> +<p>Cartwright, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page138">138</a></span>.</p> +<p>Cathcart, General, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page60">60</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page76">76</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page77">77</a></span>.</p> +<p>Catherine II., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page121">121</a></span>.</p> +<p>Charles et George, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page41">41</a></span>.</p> +<p>Chatham, Lady, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>.</p> +<p>Chenery, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page98">98</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page111">111</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page138">138</a></span>–139.</p> +<p>Chesterfield, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page58">58</a></span>.</p> +<p>Chiffney, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page24">24</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page25">25</a></span>.</p> +<p>Chorley, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>.</p> +<p>Clarendon, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page50">50</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page69">69</a></span>.</p> +<p>Claridge’s Hotel, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page100">100</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page137">137</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page146">146</a></span>.</p> +<p>Clarke, Major, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page64">64</a></span>.</p> +<p>Codrington, General, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page63">63</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page74">74</a></span>.</p> +<p>Coleridge, G., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page9">9</a></span>.</p> +<p>Collier, Sir R., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page144">144</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Corner,” the, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>.</p> +<p>Cornwall, Barry. <i>See</i> Procter.</p> +<p>“Cosmo,” the, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page115">115</a></span>.</p> +<p>Cour, M. de la, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page69">69</a></span>.</p> +<p>Crosse, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page3">3</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page19">19</a></span>.</p> +<p>Crimea, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page39">39</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page48">48</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page54">54</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page57">57</a></span>, etc.</p> +<p>Crump, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page51">51</a></span>.</p> +<p>Curzon, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page2">2</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Daubeny, Col., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span>.</p> +<p>D’Aurelle, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page63">63</a></span>.</p> +<p>Delane, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span>.</p> +<p>Dilke, Sir Charles, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page114">114</a></span>.</p> +<p>Dilke, Lady, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page87">87</a></span>.</p> +<p>Disraeli, B., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page41">41</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page42">42</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page121">121</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page139">139</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page140">140</a></span>.</p> +<p>Dollinger, Dr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page104">104</a></span>.</p> +<p>Doyle, Sir F., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page22">22</a></span>.</p> +<p>Dream, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page125">125</a></span>.</p> +<p>Du Barry, Mme., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page130">130</a></span>.</p> +<p>Duff, Sir M. E. Grant, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page4">4</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page44">44</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Ellenborough, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page50">50</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ellis, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page35">35</a></span>.</p> +<p>Eothen, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page2">2</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page4">4</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page5">5</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page9">9</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page14">14</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page16">16</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page20">20</a></span>–32, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page38">38</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page41">41</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page58">58</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page85">85</a></span>–88, +<span class="indexpageno"><a href="#page127">127</a></span>.</p> +<p>Estcott, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page4">4</a></span>.</p> +<p>Etchingham Letters, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page130">130</a></span>.</p> +<p>Eton, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page28">28</a></span>.</p> +<p>Everett, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page25">25</a></span>–26.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Fane, Violet, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ffoulkes, Rev. E. S., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page104">104</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Filioque,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page104">104</a></span>.</p> +<p>Fiske, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page139">139</a></span>.</p> +<p>Fitzgerald, E., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page54">54</a></span>.</p> +<p>Flowers, Jemmy, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page22">22</a></span>.</p> +<p>Forster, W. E., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page124">124</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page136">136</a></span>.</p> +<p>Froude, J. A., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page95">95</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page137">137</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Gallifet, M., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page117">117</a></span>.</p> +<p>Gambetta, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page118">118</a></span>.</p> +<p>Gatty, Dr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>.</p> +<p>Gerontaion, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page101">101</a></span>.</p> +<p><a name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +151</span>Gladstone, W. E., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page94">94</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page95">95</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page107">107</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page115">115</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page124">124</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page143">143</a></span>–145.</p> +<p>Gladstone, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page143">143</a></span>.</p> +<p>Gortschakoff, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page57">57</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page97">97</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page105">105</a></span>–108, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page122">122</a></span>.</p> +<p>Grant, Miss, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page121">121</a></span>.</p> +<p>Gregory, Sir W., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>.</p> +<p>Gregory, Lady, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page3">3</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page38">38</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page111">111</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page133">133</a></span>.</p> +<p>Greville Memoirs, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page60">60</a></span>.</p> +<p>Grey, Earl, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page93">93</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page108">108</a></span>.</p> +<p>Grundy, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page110">110</a></span>.</p> +<p>Guiccioli, Mme., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span>.</p> +<p>Gull, Sir W., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page147">147</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Hallam, A., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>.</p> +<p>Hamley, Sir E., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page118">118</a></span>.</p> +<p>Hampden, J., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page46">46</a></span>.</p> +<p>Harrington, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span>.</p> +<p>Harrison, F., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page114">114</a></span>.</p> +<p>Harrington, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page124">124</a></span>.</p> +<p>Hatherley, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page144">144</a></span>.</p> +<p>Hay, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page66">66</a></span>.</p> +<p>Hayward, Abraham, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page3">3</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page19">19</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page95">95</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page100">100</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page124">124</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page131">131</a></span>–133.</p> +<p>Herbert, Auberon, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page115">115</a></span>.</p> +<p>Holland, Lady, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>.</p> +<p>Homer, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page7">7</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page24">24</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page27">27</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page61">61</a></span>.</p> +<p>Hood, Thomas, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>.</p> +<p>Hook, Theodore, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Hoseason, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>.</p> +<p>Houghton, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page3">3</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page16">16</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page34">34</a></span>–36, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page99">99</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page145">145</a></span>.</p> +<p>Howard, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page82">82</a></span>.</p> +<p>Huxley, Professor, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page139">139</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Inglis, Sir R., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page23">23</a></span>–24.</p> +<p>Inkerman, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page77">77</a></span>–79.</p> +<p>Irby, Miss, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page98">98</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Jelf, W. E., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page26">26</a></span>.</p> +<p>Johnstone, Butler, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page134">134</a></span>.</p> +<p>Jowett, B., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page125">125</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page136">136</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Karabelnaya, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page72">72</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page85">85</a></span>.</p> +<p>Keate, Dr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page22">22</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kemble, Adelaide, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page128">128</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kemble, J. M., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kenyon, J., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page39">39</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kinglake, A. W., parentage and birth, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page5">5</a></span>; school at +Ottery, <span class="indexpageno"><a href="#page9">9</a></span>; +Eton, <span class="indexpageno"><a href="#page10">10</a></span>; +Cambridge, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>–13; tour in the East, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page14">14</a></span>; called to +the Bar, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>; further travel, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page18">18</a></span>; shyness in +society, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span>; manners and appearance, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page19">19</a></span>; +“Eothen” published, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page20">20</a></span>; its popularity, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page26">26</a></span>–32; +writes in “Quarterly Review,” <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page33">33</a></span>; accompanies +Lord Raglan to the Crimea, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page39">39</a></span>; enters Parliament for Bridgewater, +<span class="indexpageno"><a href="#page40">40</a></span>; first +failure in the House, and subsequent <a name="page152"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 152</span>speeches, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page41">41</a></span>, etc.; +unseated for bribery, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page45">45</a></span>; publishes the first two volumes of +“Invasion of the Crimea,” <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page48">48</a></span>; further +volumes, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page55">55</a></span>; the book discussed, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page56">56</a></span>–86; and +compared with “Eothen,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page86">86</a></span>–89; his first acquaintance +with Madame Novikoff, his tribute to her brother, M. +Kiréeff, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page91">91</a></span>; her history, character, literary +work, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page92">92</a></span>–95, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page99">99</a></span>; +Kinglake’s review of her book “Russia and +England,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page95">95</a></span>–98; his letters to her when +abroad, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page100">100</a></span>, etc.; his later years, friends, +daily habits, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page111">111</a></span>; the Athenæum +“Corner,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>; his comment on Sir Charles +Dilke’s Civil List motion, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page114">114</a></span>; on the French character, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page116">116</a></span>; on +Gortschakoff’s circular, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page122">122</a></span>; his singular dream, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page125">125</a></span>; increasing +deafness, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>; sickness and death, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page127">127</a></span>; his traits +of manner, temperament, speech, as reported by surviving friends, +<span class="indexpageno"><a href="#page127">127</a></span>, +etc.; attendance on Hayward’s last hours, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page133">133</a></span>; +antipathies and likings, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page137">137</a></span>, etc.; opinion of Gladstone and +Disraeli, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page139">139</a></span>, etc.; reserve as to his own +religious feelings, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page147">147</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kinglake, Captain, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page127">127</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kinglake, Dr. Hamilton, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page5">5</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page7">7</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page9">9</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>–127.</p> +<p>Kinglake, Mr. Robert, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page5">5</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kinglake, Mr. William, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page5">5</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kinglake, Mrs. Hamilton, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page4">4</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>–127.</p> +<p>Kinglake, Mrs. William (the elder), <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page6">6</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page8">8</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kinglake, Mr. Serjeant, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page5">5</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kinglake, Mrs. Serjeant, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page48">48</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kinglake, Rev. W. C., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page5">5</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kiréeff, Alexander, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page92">92</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page96">96</a></span>.</p> +<p>Kiréeff, Nicholas, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page90">90</a></span>.</p> +<p>Knox, Alexander, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page7">7</a></span>.</p> +<p>Korniloff, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page73">73</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page120">120</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Lafayette, Mme. de, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page46">46</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Lama, The,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page16">16</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lamb, Charles, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page34">34</a></span>.</p> +<p>Landseer, Edwin, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lane-Poole, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page66">66</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page67">67</a></span>.</p> +<p>Laveleye, M., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page98">98</a></span>.</p> +<p>Layard, A. H., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page49">49</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lear, Edward, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page146">146</a></span>.</p> +<p>Le Brun, Mme., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lecky, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lever, Charles, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page134">134</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lewis, Sir G. Cornewall, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page87">87</a></span>.</p> +<p>Liddon, Canon, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page104">104</a></span>.</p> +<p><a name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +153</span>Lieven, Princess, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page93">93</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page108">108</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lind, Jenny, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lockhart, J. G., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lucas, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page49">49</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lucan, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page72">72</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page76">76</a></span>.</p> +<p>Lyons, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page114">114</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Macaulay, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page48">48</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page51">51</a></span>.</p> +<p>MacCarthy, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page34">34</a></span>.</p> +<p>Marie of Anjou, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page23">23</a></span>.</p> +<p>Marlen Bells, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page25">25</a></span>.</p> +<p>Martineau, Miss, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page2">2</a></span>.</p> +<p>Massey, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Maurice, F. D., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>.</p> +<p>Menschikoff, Prince, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page67">67</a></span>–68.</p> +<p>Mérimée, Prosper, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page129">129</a></span>.</p> +<p>Methley, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page14">14</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span>.</p> +<p>Mexborough, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>.</p> +<p>Miller, Captain, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page64">64</a></span>.</p> +<p>Miller, Larrey, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span>–22.</p> +<p>Milman, Dean, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Minden Yell,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page62">62</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span>.</p> +<p>Mirliton, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page137">137</a></span>.</p> +<p>Monckton Milnes. <i>See</i> Houghton.</p> +<p>Montalembert, M. de, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page44">44</a></span>.</p> +<p>Morier, Sir Robert, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page136">136</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Most, Mr.,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page45">45</a></span>.</p> +<p>Motley, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>.</p> +<p>Murray, John, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page20">20</a></span>.</p> +<p>Murray, Messrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page97">97</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Napier, Macvey, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>.</p> +<p>Napoleon I., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page34">34</a></span>–35, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page54">54</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page69">69</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page82">82</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page117">117</a></span>.</p> +<p>Napoleon, Louis, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page41">41</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page43">43</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page71">71</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page81">81</a></span>, etc., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page117">117</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page119">119</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page130">130</a></span>.</p> +<p>Napoleon, Prince, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page74">74</a></span>.</p> +<p>Newcastle, Duke of, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page48">48</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page61">61</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page72">72</a></span>.</p> +<p>Nicholas, Czar, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page62">62</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page68">68</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page79">79</a></span>–81, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page93">93</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page122">122</a></span>.</p> +<p>Nolan, Captain, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page62">62</a></span>.</p> +<p>Norton, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page19">19</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Nouvelle Revue,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page4">4</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page97">97</a></span>.</p> +<p>Novikoff, Mme., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page4">4</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page90">90</a></span>–110, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page118">118</a></span>–119, +<span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>–127, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page130">130</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page134">134</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page137">137</a></span>–138, +<span class="indexpageno"><a href="#page146">146</a></span>.</p> +<p>Nugent, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page2">2</a></span>.</p> +<p>Nurses, The Lady, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page85">85</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Okes, Dr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span>–22.</p> +<p>Oliphant, L., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page46">46</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ollivier, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page20">20</a></span>.</p> +<p>Osborne, Bernal, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page134">134</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ostend, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page122">122</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ottery St. Mary, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page9">9</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ourusoff, Prince, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page119">119</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Owl, The,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page46">46</a></span>–47.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Padwick, Henry, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page42">42</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Pall Mall Gazette,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page122">122</a></span>.</p> +<p>Palmerston, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page41">41</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span>.</p> +<p>Panmure, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page60">60</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span>.</p> +<p>Parnell, C. S., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page139">139</a></span>.</p> +<p>Paton, Sir N., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page146">146</a></span>.</p> +<p><a name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 154</span>Peel, +Lady E., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span>.</p> +<p>Peel, Sir R. (senior), <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page23">23</a></span>.</p> +<p>Peel, Sir R. (junior), <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page41">41</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span>.</p> +<p>Pelissier, Marshal, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page71">71</a></span>–72.</p> +<p>Pennefather, General, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page73">73</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page77">77</a></span>.</p> +<p>Pere Enfantin, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page23">23</a></span>.</p> +<p>Pharisees, the, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page103">103</a></span>.</p> +<p>Platonic, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page38">38</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page120">120</a></span>.</p> +<p>Pleydell, Counsellor, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page146">146</a></span>.</p> +<p>Poitier, M., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page38">38</a></span>.</p> +<p>Pollington, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page14">14</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span>.</p> +<p>Pollock, Sir F., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page113">113</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page145">145</a></span>.</p> +<p>Poole, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page35">35</a></span>.</p> +<p>Portraits, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page127">127</a></span>.</p> +<p>Praed, Mackworth, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>.</p> +<p>Prince Consort, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page60">60</a></span>.</p> +<p>Procter, Adelaide, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>.</p> +<p>Procter, B. W., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page16">16</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page23">23</a></span>.</p> +<p>Procter, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page16">16</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Quaire, Mme. de, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page126">126</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Raglan, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page39">39</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page40">40</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page59">59</a></span>, etc.</p> +<p>Raglan, Lady, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page40">40</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page58">58</a></span>.</p> +<p>Rawlinson, Sir H., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Récamier, Mme., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>.</p> +<p>Reeve, H., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page50">50</a></span>.</p> +<p>Robespierre, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page46">46</a></span>.</p> +<p>Robinson, Crabb, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page16">16</a></span>.</p> +<p>Rogers, Thorold, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page104">104</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ruskin, J., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page88">88</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Salisbury, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page97">97</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page143">143</a></span>.</p> +<p>Salvation Army, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page14">14</a></span>.</p> +<p>Sartoris, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page128">128</a></span>.</p> +<p>Savile, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page10">10</a></span>.</p> +<p>Scarlett, General, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page74">74</a></span>–75.</p> +<p>Schwetschke, G., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page140">140</a></span>.</p> +<p>Schouvaloff, Count, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page140">140</a></span>.</p> +<p>Sidmouth, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page110">110</a></span>.</p> +<p>Simpson, Mrs., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page19">19</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page53">53</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page82">82</a></span>.</p> +<p>Skene, Miss, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span>.</p> +<p>Skepper, Anne, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span>.</p> +<p>Skirrow, Ch., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page134">134</a></span>.</p> +<p>Skobeleff, General, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page98">98</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page120">120</a></span>.</p> +<p>Smith, Dr. Wm., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page95">95</a></span>.</p> +<p>Smith, Sydney, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page7">7</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page8">8</a></span>.</p> +<p>Spedding, J., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>.</p> +<p>Spring Rice, Hon. S., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>.</p> +<p>St. Arnaud, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page65">65</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page116">116</a></span>.</p> +<p>St. Simon, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page23">23</a></span>.</p> +<p>Stanhope, Lady H., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>.</p> +<p>Stanhope, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span>.</p> +<p>Stanley, Dean, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page2">2</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page65">65</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page104">104</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page131">131</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span>.</p> +<p>Stanley, Lady A., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span>.</p> +<p>Stansfeld, Rt. Hon. J., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span>.</p> +<p>Sterling, J., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>.</p> +<p>Steyne, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page103">103</a></span>.</p> +<p>Stirling, Sir W., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Storks, Mr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Stratford de Redcliffe, Lord, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page61">61</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page62">62</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page65">65</a></span>, etc., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page101">101</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page122">122</a></span>.</p> +<p>Strachan, Sir R., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page131">131</a></span>.</p> +<p>Strzelecki, Count, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Swift, Dean, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page100">100</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><a name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +155</span>Talleyrand, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page129">129</a></span>.</p> +<p>Tangier, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page8">8</a></span>.</p> +<p>Taunton, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page4">4</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page5">5</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page8">8</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page9">9</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span>.</p> +<p>Tennyson, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page12">12</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page16">16</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page22">22</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page58">58</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page69">69</a></span>.</p> +<p>Thackeray, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page7">7</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>.</p> +<p>Thiers, M., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page113">113</a></span>.</p> +<p>Thompson, Dr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>.</p> +<p>Ticknor, G., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Timbuctoo,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page12">12</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Times, The,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page49">49</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page98">98</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page137">137</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page138">138</a></span>.</p> +<p>Todleben, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page49">49</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page73">73</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span>–79, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page119">119</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page123">123</a></span>.</p> +<p>Tower, Tom, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page86">86</a></span>.</p> +<p>Trench, R. C., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>.</p> +<p>Trevelyan, Sir G., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page47">47</a></span>.</p> +<p>“Tristram Shandy,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page145">145</a></span>.</p> +<p>Twisleton, E., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Tyndall, Professor, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span>.</p> +<p>Tynte, Colonel, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page40">40</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>“Vanity Fair,” <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page127">127</a></span>.</p> +<p>Vathek, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page34">34</a></span>.</p> +<p>Venables, G., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Verg, Count de, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>.</p> +<p>Victoria, Queen, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page80">80</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page84">84</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page121">121</a></span>.</p> +<p>Villiers, Charles, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span>.</p> +<p>Voltaire, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page84">84</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Waddy, Colonel, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span>.</p> +<p>Wales, Prince of (Regent), <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page24">24</a></span>–25.</p> +<p>Wales, Prince of (late), <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page120">120</a></span>.</p> +<p>Warburton, Canon, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page3">3</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page137">137</a></span>.</p> +<p>Warburton, Eliot, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page2">2</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page14">14</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page17">17</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page20">20</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page34">34</a></span>–35, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page129">129</a></span>, <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page137">137</a></span>.</p> +<p>Waverley, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page58">58</a></span>.</p> +<p>Wellington, Duke of, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page80">80</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page108">108</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page131">131</a></span>.</p> +<p>Westbrook, Colonel, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page42">42</a></span>.</p> +<p>Wilberforce, Samuel, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span>.</p> +<p>Wolff, Drummond, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span>.</p> +<p>Woodforde, Dr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>.</p> +<p>Woodforde, Mary, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span>.</p> +<p>Wordsworth, W., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page34">34</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page56">56</a></span>.</p> +<p>Wordsworth, Charles, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page12">12</a></span>.</p> +<p>Wynter, Dr., <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page26">26</a></span>.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Yea, Lacy, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page60">60</a></span>, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page63">63</a></span>.</p> +<p>Yonge, Miss, <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p156b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Decorative graphic" +title= +"Decorative graphic" +src="images/p156s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">CHISWICK +PRESS: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, +LONDON.</span></p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<h2><a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +157</span>ADVERTISEMENTS</h2> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>On Hand-made Paper</i>, +<i>small</i> 8<i>vo</i>, 4<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>.</p> +<h3>EOTHEN</h3> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">By</span> +ALEXANDER W. KINGLAKE</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Reprinted from +the First Edition</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">with an +Introduction</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">By the</span> +REV. W. TUCKWELL</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>The original Illustrations</i>, +<i>and a Map</i>.</p> +<p>“The Text is an accurate reprint of the first edition of +1844, and Kinglake’s subsequent alterations are omitted and +his omissions restored. Even the singularly erratic and +illogical punctuation is rigidly preserved. Thus in the +words of the editor, the Rev. W. Tuckwell, ‘we are brought +nearer to the author, whom we love, by the intermediate +transference into book form of his creations, fresh from his +devising and correcting pen, and reflecting his joy in their +production.’”—<i>Athenæum</i>.</p> +<p>“The present one appeals to a different class of reader +from those who like the modern <i>format</i> with fresh +illustrations, inasmuch as it is an exact reprint, with +title-page, of the first edition, preserving ‘the eccentric +punctuation of an ungrammatical Etonian in pre-local examination +days,’ and the original form of a good many passages which +were afterwards omitted or altered. The value of the +reprint is much enhanced by an excellent introduction from the +pen of the Rev. W. Tuckwell, who remembers the sensation +‘Eothen’ caused at Oxford—even among the +scouts—on its first +appearance.”—<i>Literature</i>.</p> +<p>“Alone of the famous books on Oriental sightseeing, it +is again and again reproduced, and ‘is devoured <i>senibus +puerisque</i> with unflagging freshness of +enjoyment.’”—<i>Speaker</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS,<br /> +<span class="smcap">York Street, Covent Garden</span>.</p> +<h3><a name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +158</span>RECENT PUBLICATIONS BY MESSRS. BELL.</h3> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Just published</i>.</p> +<h4>THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON I.</h4> +<p>Including new materials from the British Official Records, by +<span class="smcap">John Holland Rose</span>, M.A., late Scholar +of Christ’s College, Cambridge, author of “The +Revolutionary and Napoleonic Era,” and “A Century of +Continental History.” With many maps and plans and +numerous illustrations from contemporary paintings, rare prints +and engravings, medals, etc.; also a facsimile from a letter of +Napoleon. In two volumes, large post 8vo, handsomely bound, +18<i>s.</i> net.</p> +<h4>MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE OF COVENTRY PATMORE.</h4> +<p>Compiled and Edited by <span class="smcap">Basil +Champneys</span>. With numerous Photogravure Portraits and +other Illustrations in Collotype, etc. Two vols., demy 8vo, +32<i>s.</i> net.</p> +<p>—<b>A CHEAPER EDITION</b> of the above work, with two +Portraits. Two vols., demy 8vo, 15<i>s.</i></p> +<h4>THE WORKS OF C. S. CALVERLEY.</h4> +<p>With a Memoir by <span class="smcap">Sir Walter J. +Sendall</span>, G.C.M.G., Governor of British Guiana, and +Portrait. Complete in one volume. <i>Second +Impression</i>, crown 8vo, 6<i>s.</i> net.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Library +Edition</span>.</p> +<p>With binding designed by <span class="smcap">Gleeson +White</span>. In four vols., crown 8vo, 5<i>s.</i> +each.</p> +<p>Vol. I. <b>Literary Remains</b>. With a Memoir by +<span class="smcap">Sir Walter J. Sendall</span>, K.C.M.G., and +Portrait.</p> +<p>Vol. II. <b>Verses and Fly-Leaves</b>.</p> +<p>Vol. III. <b>Translations into English and +Latin</b>.</p> +<p>Vol. IV. <b>Theocritus Translated into English +Verse</b>.</p> +<h4><a name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +159</span>HANDBOOKS TO THE GREAT PUBLIC SCHOOLS.</h4> +<p>Crown 8vo, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net each.</p> +<p><b>ETON</b>.</p> +<p>By A. <span class="smcap">Clutton-Brock</span>. With 46 +Illustrations.</p> +<p><b>CHARTERHOUSE</b>.</p> +<p>By A. H. <span class="smcap">Tod</span>, M.A., Assistant +Master at Charterhouse. With 58 Illustrations.</p> +<p><b>RUGBY</b>.</p> +<p>By H. C. <span class="smcap">Bradby</span>, B.A., Assistant +Master at Rugby School. With 44 Illustrations.</p> +<p><b>WINCHESTER</b>.</p> +<p>By R. <span class="smcap">Townsend Warner</span>, New College, +Oxford, late Scholar of Winchester College. With 46 +Illustrations.</p> +<p><b>HARROW</b>.</p> +<p>By J. <span class="smcap">Fischer Williams</span>, M.A., late +Fellow of New College, Oxford. With 48 Illustrations.</p> +<p><b>WESTMINSTER</b>.</p> +<p>By <span class="smcap">Reginald Airy</span>, B.A., Trinity +College, Cambridge. With 47 Illustrations.</p> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">YORK STREET, +COVENT GARDEN.</span></p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2> +<p><a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1" +class="footnote">[1]</a> When “Heartsease” +first appeared, Percy Fotheringham was believed to be a portrait; +but the accomplished authoress in a letter written not long +before her death told me that the character was wholly +imaginary.</p> +<p><a name="footnote6"></a><a href="#citation6" +class="footnote">[6]</a> Pedigrees are perplexing unless +tabulated; so here is Kinglake’s genealogical tree.</p> +<p>Kinglakes of Saltmoor had sons <span class="smcap">Robert +Kinglake</span> and <span class="smcap">William +Kinglake</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Robert Kinglake</span> had sons <span +class="smcap">Serjeant John Kinglake</span> and Rev. W. C. <span +class="smcap">Kinglake</span>.</p> +<p>Woodfordes of Castle Cary had a daughter <span +class="smcap">Mary Woodforde</span>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">William Kinglake</span> married <span +class="smcap">Mary Woodforde</span> and had sons A. W. <span +class="smcap">Kinglake</span> (“Eothen”) and Dr. +<span class="smcap">Hamilton Kinglake</span>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote12a"></a><a href="#citation12a" +class="footnote">[12a]</a> “Eothen,” p. +33. Reading “Timbuctoo” to-day one is amazed it +should have gained the prize. Two short passages adumbrate +the coming Tennyson, the rest is mystic nonsense. +“What do you think of Tennyson’s prize poem?” +writes Charles Wordsworth to his brother Christopher. +“Had it been sent up at Oxford, the author would have had a +better chance of spending a few months at a lunatic asylum than +of obtaining the Prize.” A current Cambridge story at +the time explained the selection. There were three +examiners, the Vice-Chancellor, a man of arbitrary temper, with +whom his juniors hesitated to disagree; a classical professor +unversed in English Literature; a mathematical professor +indifferent to all literature. The letter <i>g</i> was to +signify approval, the letter <i>b</i> to brand it with +rejection. Tennyson’s manuscript came from the +Vice-Chancellor scored all over with <i>g</i>’s. The +classical professor failed to see its merit, but bowed to the +Vice-Chancellor, and added his <i>g</i>. The mathematical +professor could not admire, but since both his colleagues +ordained it, good it must be, and his <i>g</i> made the award +unanimous. The three met soon after, and the +Vice-Chancellor, in his blatant way, attacked the other two for +admiring a trashy poem. “Why,” they +remonstrated, “you covered it with <i>g</i>’s +yourself.” “<i>G</i>’s,” said he, +“they were <i>q</i>’s for queries; I could not +understand a line of it.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote12b"></a><a href="#citation12b" +class="footnote">[12b]</a> “Enoch Arden,” p. +34.</p> +<p><a name="footnote13"></a><a href="#citation13" +class="footnote">[13]</a> “Eothen,” p. +169. Reprint by Bell and Sons, 1898.</p> +<p><a name="footnote14a"></a><a href="#citation14a" +class="footnote">[14a]</a> “Eothen,” p. 17.</p> +<p><a name="footnote14b"></a><a href="#citation14b" +class="footnote">[14b]</a> His deferential regard for army +rank was like that of Johnson for bishops. Great was his +indignation when the “grotesque Salvation Army,” as +he called it, adopted military nomenclature. “I would +let those ragamuffins call themselves saints, angels, prophets, +cherubim, Olympian gods and goddesses if they like; but their +pretension in taking the rank of officers in the army is to me +beyond measure repulsive.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote14c"></a><a href="#citation14c" +class="footnote">[14c]</a> “Eothen,” p. 190 in +first edition. It was struck out in the fourth edition.</p> +<p><a name="footnote22"></a><a href="#citation22" +class="footnote">[22]</a> “Eothen,” p. +18. Reprint by Bell and Sons, 1898.</p> +<p><a name="footnote28"></a><a href="#citation28" +class="footnote">[28]</a> He is very fond of this word; it +occurs eleven times.</p> +<p><a name="footnote37"></a><a href="#citation37" +class="footnote">[37]</a> “Quarterly Review,” +December, 1844.</p> +<p><a name="footnote38a"></a><a href="#citation38a" +class="footnote">[38a]</a> “Eothen,” p. 46.</p> +<p><a name="footnote38b"></a><a href="#citation38b" +class="footnote">[38b]</a> Poitier’s +“Vaudeville.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote40"></a><a href="#citation40" +class="footnote">[40]</a> One characteristic anecdote he +omits. Two French officers were attached to our +headquarters; and the staff were partly embarrassed and partly +amused by Lord Raglan’s inveterate habit, due to old +Peninsular associations, of calling the enemy “the +French” in the presence of our foreign guests.</p> +<p><a name="footnote47"></a><a href="#citation47" +class="footnote">[47]</a> Some of us can recall the lines +in which Sir G. Trevelyan commemorated “The +Owl’s” nocturnal flights:</p> +<blockquote><p>“When at sunset, chill and dark,<br /> +Sunset thins the swarming park,<br /> +Bearing home his social gleaning—<br /> +Jests and riddles fraught with meaning,<br /> +Scandals, anecdotes, reports,—<br /> +Seeks The Owl a maze of courts<br /> +Which, with aspect towards the west,<br /> + Fringe the street of Sainted James,<br /> +Where a warm, secluded nest<br /> + As his sole domain he claims;<br /> +From his wing a feather draws,<br /> + Shapes for use a dainty nib,<br /> + Pens his parody or squib;<br /> +Combs his down and trims his claws,<br /> +And repairs where windows bright<br /> +Flood the sleepless Square with light.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote60"></a><a href="#citation60" +class="footnote">[60]</a> Greville, vii. 223, quotes from a +letter written after Inkerman to the Prince Consort by Colonel +Steele, saying “that he had no idea how great a mind Raglan +really had, but that he now saw it, for in the midst of +distresses and difficulties of every kind in which the army was +involved, he was perfectly serene and undisturbed.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote63"></a><a href="#citation63" +class="footnote">[63]</a> “Go quietly” might +have been his motto: even on horseback he seemed never to be in a +hurry. Airey used to come in from their rides round the +outposts shuddering with cold, and complaining that the Chief +would never move his horse out of a walk. “I +daresay,” said Carlyle, “Lord Raglan will rise quite +quietly at the last trump, and remain entirely composed during +the whole day, and show the most perfect civility to both +parties.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote64"></a><a href="#citation64" +class="footnote">[64]</a> The first death! out of how many +he nowhere reckons: he shrinks from estimates of carnage, and we +thank him for it. But an accomplished naturalist tells me +that the vulture, a bird unknown in the Crimea before hostilities +began, swarmed there after the Alma fight, and remained till the +war was over, disappearing meanwhile from the whole North African +littoral.</p> +<p><a name="footnote66"></a><a href="#citation66" +class="footnote">[66]</a> “D—n your +eyes!” he said once, in a moment of irritation, to his +<i>attaché</i>, Mr. Hay. “D—n your +Excellency’s eyes!” was the answer, delivered with +deep respect but with sufficient emphasis. Dismissed on the +spot, the candid <i>attaché</i> went in great anger to +pack up, but was followed after a time by Lady Canning, habitual +peacemaker in the household, who besought him if not to apologize +at least to bid his Chief good-bye. After much persuasion +he consented. “Hardly had he entered the room when +Sir Stratford had him by the hand. ‘My dear Hay, this +will never do; what a devil of a temper you have!’ +The two were firmer friends than ever after this” (<span +class="smcap">Lane Poole’s</span> <i>Life of Lord +Stratford</i>, chapter xiii.).</p> +<p><a name="footnote68"></a><a href="#citation68" +class="footnote">[68]</a> The story of an old quarrel +between Sir Stratford Canning and the then Grand Duke Nicholas at +St. Petersburg in 1825 is disproved by Canning’s own +statement. The two met once only in their lives, at a +purely formal reception at Paris in 1814.</p> +<p><a name="footnote82"></a><a href="#citation82" +class="footnote">[82]</a> <i>La Femme</i> was a +“Miss” or “Mrs.” Howard. She +followed Louis Napoleon to France in 1848, and lived openly with +him as his mistress. In the once famous “Letters of +an Englishman” we are told how shortly after the December +massacre the <i>élite</i> of English visitors in Paris +were not ashamed to dine at her house in the President’s +company: and in 1860, Mrs. Simpson, in France with her father, +Nassau Senior, found her, decorated with the title of Madame de +Beauregard, inhabiting La Celle, near Versailles, once the abode +of Madame de Pompadour, “with the national flag flying over +it, to the great scandal of the neighbourhood.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote87"></a><a href="#citation87" +class="footnote">[87]</a> Bachaumont’s criticism of +Latour. Lady Dilke’s “French Painters,” +p. 165.</p> +<p><a name="footnote96"></a><a href="#citation96" +class="footnote">[96]</a> Here is one of the stanzas:</p> +<blockquote><p>“L’Autriche—dit-on—et la +Russie<br /> +Se brouillent pour la Turquie.<br /> +Dès aujourd’hui il n’en est plus question.<br +/> +En invitant une femme charmante,<br /> +Le Turc—et je l’en complimente—<br /> +Est devenu pour nous un trait d’union.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote111"></a><a href="#citation111" +class="footnote">[111]</a> “Blackwood’s +Magazine,” December, 1895, p. 802.</p> +<p><a name="footnote130"></a><a href="#citation130" +class="footnote">[130]</a> I inserted this quotation before +reading the “Etchingham Letters.” Sir Richard +would wish me to erase it as hackneyed; but it applies to +Kinglake’s talk as accurately as to Virgil’s writing, +and I refuse to be defrauded of it.</p> +<p><a name="footnote133"></a><a href="#citation133" +class="footnote">[133]</a> This delightful phrase is Lady +Gregory’s. One would wish, like Lord Houghton, though +suppressing his presumptuous rider, to have been its author.</p> +<p><a name="footnote140"></a><a href="#citation140" +class="footnote">[140]</a> Of course Kinglake was not alone +in this opinion. It was voiced in a delightful <i>jeu +d’esprit</i>, now forgotten, which it is worth while to +reproduce:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“<span +class="smcap">The Berlin Congress</span>.</p> +<p>“The following Latin poem, from the pen of the +well-known German poet, Gustave Schwetschke, was distributed by +Prince Bismarck’s special request amongst the +Plenipotentiaries immediately after the last sitting on +Saturday:</p> +<p>“‘<span class="smcap">Gaudeamus +Congressibile</span>.</p> +<p>“‘Gaudeamus igitur<br /> + Socii congressus,<br /> +Post dolores bellicosos,<br /> +Post labores gloriosos,<br /> + Nobis fit decessus.</p> +<p>“‘Ubi sunt, qui ante nos<br /> + Quondam consedere,<br /> +Viennenses, Parisienses<br /> +Tot per annos, tot per menses?<br /> + Frustra decidere.</p> +<p>“‘Mundus heu! vult decipi,<br /> + Sed non decipiatur,<br /> +Non plus ultra inter gentes<br /> +Litigantes et frementes<br /> + Manus conferatur.</p> +<p>‘Vivat Pax! et comitent<br /> + Dii nunc congressum,<br /> +Ceu Deus ex machinâ<br /> +Ipsa venit Cypria<br /> + Roborans successum.</p> +<p>“‘Pereat discordia!<br /> + Vincat semper litem<br /> +Proxenetae probitas, <a name="citation141"></a><a +href="#footnote141" class="citation">[141]</a><br /> +Fides, spes, et charitas,<br /> + Gaudeamus item!</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“G. S.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“<span +class="smcap">The Other Version</span>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">(From the “Pall Mall +Gazette.”)</p> +<p>“A correspondent informs us that the version given in +‘The Standard’ of yesterday of the congratulatory ode +(‘Gaudeamus igitur,’ etc.) addressed to the Congress +by ‘the well-known German poet Gustave Schwetschke,’ +and ‘distributed by Prince Bismarck’s request among +the Plenipotentiaries,’ is incorrect. The true +version, we are assured, is as follows:</p> +<p>“‘Rideamus igitur,<br /> + Socii Congressus;<br /> +Post dolores bellicosos,<br /> +Post labores bumptiosos,<br /> + Fit mirandus messus.</p> +<p>“Ubi sunt qui apud nos<br /> + Causas litigâre,<br /> +Moldo-Wallachæ frementes,<br /> +Græculi esurientes?<br /> + Heu! absquatulâre.</p> +<p>“‘Ubi sunt provinciæ<br /> + Quas est laus pacâsse?<br /> +Totæ, totæ, sunt partitæ:<br /> +Has tulerunt Muscovitæ,<br /> + Illas Count Andrassy.</p> +<p>“‘Et quid est quod Angliæ<br /> + Dedit hic Congressus?<br /> +Jus pro aliis pugnandi,<br /> +Mortuum vivificandi—<br /> + Splendidi successus!</p> +<p>“‘Vult Joannes decipi<br /> + Et bamboosulatur.<br /> +Io Beacche! Quæ majestas!<br /> +Ostreæ reportans testas<br /> + Domum gloriatur!’”</p> +<p>“This version, which from internal evidence will be seen +to be the true one, may be roughly Englished thus:</p> +<p>“Let us have our hearty laugh,<br /> + Greatest of Congresses!<br /> +After days and weeks pugnacious,<br /> +After labours ostentatious,<br /> + See how big the mess is!</p> +<p>“‘Where are those who at our bar<br /> + Their demands have stated:<br /> +Robbed Roumanians rampaging,<br /> +Greeklings with earth-hunger raging?<br /> + Where? Absquatulated!</p> +<p>“‘Where the lands we’ve pacified,<br /> + With their rebel masses?<br /> +All are gone; yes, all up-gobbled:<br /> +These the Muscovite has nobbled,<br /> + Those are Count Andrassy’s.</p> +<p>“‘And what does England carry off<br /> + To add to her possessions?<br /> +The right to wage another’s strife,<br /> +The right to raise the dead to life—<br /> + Glorious concessions!</p> +<p>“‘Well, let John Bull bamboozled be<br /> + If he’s so fond of sells!<br /> +Io Beacche! Hark the cheering!<br /> +See him home in triumph bearing<br /> + <i>Both</i> <a name="citation143"></a><a +href="#footnote143" class="citation">[143]</a> the oyster +shells!’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="footnote141"></a><a href="#citation141" +class="footnote">[141]</a> “Der ehrlich Miikler.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote143"></a><a href="#citation143" +class="footnote">[143]</a> Peace and Honour.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A. W. KINGLAKE***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 539-h.htm or 539-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/3/539 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. 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