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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-21 10:21:09 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-21 10:21:09 -0800 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/75167-0.txt b/75167-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..53b7034 --- /dev/null +++ b/75167-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7999 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75167 *** + + + + + + BLACKWOOD’S + EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. + NO. DLXIX. MARCH 1863. VOL. XCIII. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + CAXTONIANA.—PART XIV., 267 + NO. XIX.—MOTIVE POWER (_concluded_) + MRS CLIFFORD’S MARRIAGE.—PART I., 284 + AN ENGLISH VILLAGE—IN FRENCH, 301 + LORD MACKENZIE’S ROMAN LAW, 314 + THE PERIPATETIC POLITICIAN—IN FLORENCE, 321 + THE FRANK IN SCOTLAND, 330 + KINGLAKE’S INVASION OF THE CRIMEA, 355 + THE OPENING OF THE SESSION, 384 + + + EDINBURGH: + WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS, 45 GEORGE STREET. + AND 37 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. + + _To whom all Communications (post paid) must be addressed._ + + SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM. + + PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH. + + + + + BLACKWOOD’S + EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. + + NO. DLXIX. MARCH 1863. VOL. XCIII + + + + + CAXTONIANA: + A SERIES OF ESSAYS ON LIFE, LITERATURE, AND MANNERS. + + By the Author of ‘The Caxton Family.’ + + + PART XIV. + + + NO. XIX.—MOTIVE POWER (_concluded_). + +The next day the atmosphere was much cooler, refreshed by a heavy shower +that had fallen at dawn; and when, not long after noon, Percival and I, +mounted on ponies bred in the neighbouring forests, were riding through +the narrow lanes towards the house we had agreed to visit, we did not +feel the heat oppressive. It was a long excursion; we rode slowly, and +the distance was about sixteen miles. + +We arrived at last at a little hamlet remote from the highroads. The +cottages, though old-fashioned, were singularly neat and +trim—flower-plots before them, and small gardens for kitchen use behind. +A very ancient church, with its parsonage, backed the broad +village-green; and opposite the green stood one of those small quaint +manor-houses which satisfied the pride of our squires two hundred years +ago. On a wide garden-lawn in front were old yew-trees cut into +fantastic figures of pyramids and obelisks and birds and animals; beyond +the lawn, on a levelled platform immediately before the house, was a +small garden, with a sundial, and a summer-house or pavilion of the date +of William III., when buildings of that kind, for a short time, became +the fashionable appendage to country-houses, frequently decorated inside +with musical trophies, as if built for a music-room; but, I suspect, +more generally devoted to wine and pipes by the host and his male +friends. At the rear of the house stretched an ample range of +farm-buildings in very good repair and order, the whole situated on the +side of a hill, sufficiently high to command an extensive prospect, +bounded at the farthest distance by the sea, yet not so high as to lose +the screen of hills, crested by young plantations of fir and larch; +while their midmost slopes were, in part, still abandoned to +sheep-walks; in part, brought (evidently of late) into cultivation; and +farther down, amid the richer pastures that dipped into the valley, +goodly herds of cattle indolently grazed or drowsily reposed. + +We dismounted at the white garden-gate. A man ran out from the farmyard +and took our ponies; evidently a familiar acquaintance of Tracey’s, for +he said heartily, “that he was glad to see his honour looking so well,” +and volunteered a promise that the ponies should be well rubbed down, +and fed. “Master was at home; we should find him in the orchard swinging +Miss Lucy.” + +So, instead of entering the house, Tracey, who knew all its ways, took +me round to the other side, and we came into one of those venerable +orchards which carry the thought back to the early day when the orchard +was, in truth, the garden. + +A child’s musical laugh guided us through the lines of heavy-laden +apple-trees to the spot where the once famous prizeman—the once +brilliant political thinker—was now content to gratify the instinctive +desire _tentare aërias vias_—in the pastime of an infant. + +He was so absorbed in his occupation that he did not hear or observe us +till we were close at his side. Then, after carefully arresting the +swing, and tenderly taking out the little girl, he shook hands with +Percival; and when the ceremony of mutual introduction was briefly +concluded, extended the same courtesy to myself. + +Gray was a man in the full force of middle life, with a complexion that +seemed to have been originally fair and delicate, but had become bronzed +and hardened by habitual exposure to morning breezes and noonday suns. +He had a clear bright blue eye, and a countenance that only failed of +being handsome by that length and straightness of line between nostril +and upper lip, which is said by physiognomists to be significant of +firmness and decision. The whole expression of his face, though frank +and manly, was, however, rather sweet than harsh; and he had one of +those rare voices which almost in themselves secure success to a public +speaker—distinct and clear, even in its lowest tone, as a silvery bell. + +I think much of a man’s nature is shown by the way in which he shakes +hands. I doubt if any worldly student of Chesterfieldian manners can +ever acquire the art of that everyday salutation, if it be not inborn in +the kindness, loyalty, and warmth of his native disposition. I have +known many a great man who lays himself out to be popular, who can +school his smile to fascinating sweetness, his voice to persuasive +melody, but who chills or steels your heart against him the moment he +shakes hands with you. + +But there is a cordial clasp which shows warmth of impulse, unhesitating +truth, and even power of character—a clasp which recalls the classic +trust in the “faith of the right hand.” + +And the clasp of Hastings Gray’s hand at once propitiated me in his +favour. While he and I exchanged the few words with which acquaintance +commences, Percival had replaced Miss Lucy in the swing, and had taken +the father’s post. Lucy, before disappointed at the cessation of her +amusement, felt now that she was receiving a compliment, which she must +not abuse too far; so she very soon, of her own accord, unselfishly +asked to be let down, and we all walked back towards the house. + +“You will dine with us, I hope,” said Gray. “I know when you come at +this hour, Sir Percival, that you always meditate giving us that +pleasure.” (Turning to me,) “It is now half-past three, we dine at four +o’clock, and that early hour gives you time to rest, and ride back in +the cool of the evening.” + +“My dear Gray,” answered Percival, “I accept your invitation for myself +and my friend. I foresaw you would ask us, and left word at home that we +were not to be waited for. Where is Mrs Gray?” + +“I suspect that she is about some of those household matters which +interest a farmer’s wife. Lucy, run and tell your mamma that these +gentlemen will dine with us.” + +Lucy scampered off. + +“The fact is,” said Tracey, “that we have a problem to submit to you. +You know how frequently I come to you for a hint when something puzzles +me. But we can defer that knotty subject till we adjourn, as usual, to +wine and fruit in your summer-house. Your eldest boy is at home for the +holidays?” + +“Not at home, though it is his holidays. He is now fifteen, and he and a +school friend of his are travelling on foot into Cornwall. Nothing, I +think, fits boys better for life than those hardy excursions in which +they must depend on themselves, shift for themselves, think for +themselves.” + +“I daresay you are right,” said Tracey; “the earlier each of us human +beings forms himself into an individual God’s creature, distinct from +the _servum pecus_, the better chance he has of acquiring originality of +mind and dignity of character. And your other children?” + +“Oh, my two younger boys I teach at home, and one little girl—I play +with.” Here addressing me, Gray asked “If I farmed?” + +“Yes,” said I, “but very much as _les Rois Fainéants_ reigned. My +bailiff is my _Maire du Palais_. I hope, therefore, that our friend Sir +Percival will not wound my feelings as a lover of Nature by accusing me +of wooing her for the sake of her turnips.” + +“Ah!” said Gray, smiling, “Sir Percival, I know, holds to the doctrine +that the only pure love of Nature is the æsthetic; and looks upon the +intimate connection which the husbandman forms with her as a +cold-blooded _mariage de convenance_.” + +“I confess,” answered Percival, “that I agree with the great German +philosopher, that the love of Nature is pure in proportion as the +delight in her companionship is unmixed with any idea of the gain she +can give us. But a pure love may be a very sterile affection; and a +_mariage de convenance_ may be prolific in very fine offspring. I +concede to you, therefore, that the world is bettered by the practical +uses to which Nature has been put by those who wooed her for the sake of +her dower: and I no more commend to the imitation of others my abstract +æsthetic affection for her abstract æsthetic beauty, than I would +commend Petrarch’s poetical passion for Laura to the general adoption of +lovers. I give you, then, gentlemen farmers, full permission to woo +Nature for the sake of her turnips. Our mutton is all the better for +it.” + +“And that is no small consideration,” said Gray. “If I had gazed on my +sheep-walks with the divine æsthetic eye, and without one forethought of +the profit they might bring me, I should not already have converted 200 +out of the 1000 acres I possess into land that would let at 30s. per +acre, where formerly it let at 5s. But, with all submission to the great +German philosopher, I don’t think I love Nature the less because of the +benefits with which she repays the pains I have taken to conciliate her +favour. If, thanks to her, I can give a better education to my boys, and +secure a modest provision for my girl, is it the property of gratitude +to destroy or to increase affection? But you see, sir, there is this +difference between Sir Percival and myself:—He has had no motive in +improving Nature for her positive uses, and therefore he has been +contented with giving her a prettier robe. He loves her as a _grand +seigneur_ loves his mistress. I love her as a man loves the helpmate who +assists his toils. According as in rural life my mind could find not +repose, but occupation—according as that occupation was compatible with +such prudent regard to fortune as a man owes to the children he brings +into the world—my choice of life would be a right or a wrong one. In +short, I find in the cultivation of Nature my business as well as my +pleasure. I have a motive for the business which does not diminish my +taste for the pleasure.” + +Tracey and I exchanged looks. So, then, here was a motive for activity. +But why was the motive towards activity in pursuits requiring so little +of the intellect for which Gray had been characterised, and so little of +the knowledge which his youth had acquired, so much stronger than the +motive towards a career which proffered an incalculably larger scope for +his powers? Here, there was no want of energy—here, there had been no +philosophical disdain of ambition—here, no great wealth leaving no +stimulant to desires—no niggard poverty paralysing the sinews of hope. +The choice of retirement had been made in the full vigour of a life +trained from boyhood to the exercises that discipline the wrestlers for +renown. + +While I was thus musing, Gray led the way towards the farmyard, and on +reaching it said to me,— + +“Since you do farm, if only by deputy, I must show you the sheep with +which I hope to win the first prize at our agricultural show in +September.” + +“So you still care for prizes?” said I: “the love of fame is not dead +within your breast.” + +“Certainly not; ‘Pride attends us still.’ I am very proud of the prizes +I have already won; last year for my wurzel—the year before, for the cow +I bred on my own pastures.” + +We crossed the farmyard, and arrived at the covered sheep-pens. I +thought I had never seen finer sheep than those which Gray showed me +with visible triumph. Then we two conversed with much animation upon the +pros and cons in favour of stall-feeding _versus_ free grazing, while +Tracey amused himself, first in trying to conciliate a great dog, +luckily for him chained up in the adjoining yard, and next, in favouring +the escape of a mouse who had incautiously quitted the barn, and +ventured within reach of a motherly hen, who seemed to regard it as a +monster intent on her chicks. + +Reaching the house, Gray conducted us up a flight of oak +stairs—picturesque in its homely old-fashioned way—with wide +landing-place, adorned by a blue china jar, filled with _pot-pourri_, +and by a tall clock (one of Tompion’s, now rare), in walnut-wood case; +consigning us each to a separate chamber, to refresh ourselves by those +simple ablutions, with which, even in rustic retirements, civilised +Englishmen preface the hospitable rites of Ceres and Bacchus. + +The room in which I found myself was one of those never seen out of +England, and only there in unpretending country-houses which have +escaped the innovating tastes of fashion. A bedstead of the time of +George I., with mahogany fluted columns and panels at the bedhead, +dark and polished, decorated by huge watch-pockets of some +great-grandmother’s embroidery, white spotless curtains, the walls in +panel, also painted white, and covered in part with framed engravings +a century old. A large high screen, separating the washstand from the +rest of the room, made lively by old caricatures and prints, doubtless +the handiwork of female hands long stilled. A sweet, not strong, odour +of dried lavender escaped from a chest of drawers, polished as bright +as the bedstead. The small lattice-paned window opened to the fresh +air; the woodbine framing it all round from without; amongst the +woodbine the low hum of bees. A room for early sleep and cheerful +rising with the eastern sun, which the window faced. + +Tracey came into my room while I was still looking out of the casement, +gazing on the little gardenplot without, bright with stocks and pinks +and heartsease, and said, “Well, you see £600 a-year can suffice to +arrest a clever man’s ambition.” + +“I suspect,” answered I, “that the ambition is not arrested but turned +aside to the object of doubling the £600 a-year. Neither ambition nor +the desire of gain is dead in that farmyard.” + +“We shall cross-question our host after dinner,” answered Tracey; +“meanwhile let me conduct you to the dining-room. A pretty place this, +in its way, is it not?” + +“Very,” said I, with enthusiasm. “Could you not live as happily here as +in your own brilliant villa?” + +“No, not quite, but still happily.” + +“Why not quite?” + +“First, because there is nothing within or without the house which one +could attempt to improve, unless by destroying the whole character of +what is so good in its way; secondly, where could I put my Claudes and +Turners? where my statues? where, oh where, my books? where, in short, +the furniture of Man’s mind?” + +I made no answer, for the dinner-bell rang loud, and we went down at +once into the dining-room—a quaint room, scarcely touched since the date +of William III. A high and heavy dado of dark oak, the rest of the walls +in Dutch stamped leather, still bright and fresh; a high mantelpiece, +also of oak, with a very indifferent picture of still life let into the +upper panel; arched recesses on either side, receptacles for china and +tall drinking-glasses; heavy chairs, with crests inlaid on their +ponderous backs, and faded needlework on their ample seats;—all, +however, speaking of comfort and home, and solid though unassuming +prosperity. Gray had changed his rude morning dress, and introduced me +to his wife with an evident husbandlike pride. Mrs Gray was still very +pretty; in her youth she must have been prettier even than Clara +Thornhill, and though very plainly dressed, still it was the dress of a +gentlewoman. There was intelligence, but soft timid intelligence, in her +dark hazel eyes and broad candid forehead. I soon saw, however, that she +was painfully shy, and not at all willing to take her share in the +expense of conversation. But with Tracey she was more at her ease than +with a stranger, and I thanked him inwardly for coming to my relief, as +I was vainly endeavouring to extract from her lips more than a murmured +monosyllable. + +The dinner, however, passed off very pleasantly. Simple old English +fare—plenty of it—excellent of its kind. Tracey was the chief talker, +and made himself so entertaining, that at last even Mrs Gray’s shyness +wore away, and I discovered that she had a well-informed graceful mind, +constitutionally cheerful, as was evidenced by the blithe music of her +low but happy laugh. + +The dinner over, we adjourned, as Percival had proposed, to the +summer-house. There we found the table spread with fruits and wine, of +which last the port was superb; no better could be dragged from the bins +of a college, or blush on the board of a prelate. Mrs Gray, however, +deserted us, but we now and then caught sight of her in the garden +without, playing gaily with her children—two fine little boys, and Lucy, +who seemed to have her own way with them all, as she ought—the youngest +child, the only girl—justifiably papa’s pet, for she was the one most +like her mother. + +“Gray,” said Tracey, “my friend and I have had some philosophical +disputes, which we cannot decide to our own satisfaction, on the reasons +why some men do so much more in life than other men, without having any +apparent intellectual advantage over those who are contented to be +obscure. We have both hit on a clue to the cause, in what we call motive +power. But what this motive power really is, and why it should fail in +some men and be so strong in others, is matter of perplexity, at least +to me, and I fancy my friend himself is not much more enlightened +therein than I am. So we have both come here to hear what you have to +say—you, who certainly had motive enough for ambitious purposes when you +swept away so many academical prizes—when you rushed into speech and +into print, and cast your bold eye on St Stephen’s. And now, what has +become of that motive power? Is it all put into prizes for root-crops +and sheep?” + +“As to myself,” answered Gray, passing the wine, “I can give very clear +explanations. I am of a gentleman’s family, but the son of a very poor +curate. Luckily for me, we lived close by an excellent grammar-school, +at which I obtained a free admission. From the first day I entered, I +knew that my poor father, bent on making me a scholar, counted on my +exertions not only for my own livelihood, but for a provision for my +mother should she survive him. Here was motive enough to supply motive +power. I succeeded in competition with rivals at school, and success +added to the strength of the motive power. Our county member, on whose +estate I was born, took a kindly interest in me, and gave me leave, when +I quitted school, as head boy, to come daily to his house and share the +studies of his son, who was being prepared for the university by a +private tutor, eminent as a scholar and admirable as a teacher. Thus I +went up to college not only full of hope (in itself a motive power, +though, of itself, an unsafe one), but of a hope so sustained that it +became resolution, by the knowledge that to maintain me at the +university my parents were almost literally starving themselves. This +suffices to explain whatever energy and application I devoted to my +academical career. At last I obtained my fellowship; the income of that +I shared with my parents; but if I died before them the income would die +also—a fresh motive power towards a struggle for fortune in the Great +World. I took up politics, I confess it very frankly, as a profession +rather than a creed; it was the shortest road to fame, and, with +prudence, perhaps to pecuniary competence. If I succeeded in Parliament +I might obtain a living for my father, or some public situation for +myself not dependent on the fluctuations of party. A very high political +ambition was denied me by the penury of circumstance. A man must have +good means of his own who aspires to rank among party chiefs. I knew I +was but a political adventurer, that I could only be so considered; and +had it not been for my private motive power, I should have been ashamed +of my public one. As it was, my scholarly pride was secretly chafed at +the thought that I was carrying into the affairs of state the greed of +trade. Suddenly, most unexpectedly, this estate was bequeathed to me. +You large proprietors will smile when I say that we had always regarded +the Grays of Oakden Hall with venerating pride; they were the head of +our branch of the clan. My father had seen this place in his boyhood; +the remembrance of it dwelt on his mind as the unequivocal witness of +his dignity as a gentleman born. He came from the same stock as the +Grays of Oakden, who had lived on the land for more than three +centuries, entitled to call themselves squires. The relationship was +very distant, still it existed. But a dream that so great a place as +Oakden Hall, with its 1000 acres, should ever pass to his son—no, my +father thought it much more likely that his son might be prime minister! +John Gray of Oakden had never taken the least notice of us, except that, +when I won the Pitt scholarship, he sent me a fine turkey, labelled +‘From John Gray, Esq. of Oakden.’ This present I acknowledged, but John +Gray never answered my letter. Just at that time, however, as appears by +the date, he re-made his will, and placed me as remainder-man in case of +the deaths, without issue, of two nearer relations, both nephews. These +young men died unmarried—the one of rheumatic fever, a few months before +old Gray’s decease; the other, two weeks after it; poor fellow, he was +thrown from his horse and killed on the spot. So, unexpectedly, I came +into this property. Soon afterwards I married. The possession of land is +a great tranquilliser to a restless spirit, and a happy marriage is as +sedative as potent. Poverty is a spur to action. Great wealth, on the +other hand, not unnaturally tends to the desire of display, and in free +countries often to the rivalry for political power. The golden mean is +proverbially the condition most favourable to content, and content is +the antidote to ambition. Mine was the golden mean! Other influences of +pride and affection contributed to keep me still. Of pride; for was I +not really a greater man here, upon my ancestral acres and my few yearly +hundreds, than as a political aspirant, who must commence his career by +being a political dependant? How rich I felt here! how poor I should be +in London! How inevitably, in the daily expenses of a metropolitan life, +and in the costs of elections (should I rise beyond being a mere +nominee), I must become needy and involved! So much for the influence of +pride. Now for the influence of affection; my dear wife had never been +out of these rural shades among which she was born. She is of a nature +singularly timid, sensitive, and retiring. The idea of that society to +which a political career would have led me terrified her. I loved her +the better for desiring no companionship but mine. In fine, my desires +halted at once on these turfs; the Attraction of the Earth, of which I +had a share, prevailed; the motive power stopped here.” + +“You have never regretted your choice?” said Tracey. + +“Certainly not; I congratulate myself on it more and more every year. +For, after all, here I have ample occupation and a creditable career. I +have improved my fortune, instead of wasting it. I have a fixed, +acknowledged, instead of an unsettled, equivocal position. I am an +authority on many rural subjects of interest besides those of husbandry. +I am an active magistrate; and, as I know a little of the law, I am the +habitual arbiter upon all the disputes in the neighbourhood. I employ +here with satisfaction, and not without some dignity, the energies +which, in the great world, would have bought any reputation I might have +gained at the price of habitual pain and frequent mortification.” + +“Then,” said I, “you do not think that a saying of Dr Arnold’s, which I +quoted to Tracey as no less applicable to men than to boys, is +altogether a true one—viz., that the difference between boys, as regards +the power of acquiring distinction, is not so much in talent as in +energy; you retain the energies that once raised you to public +distinction, but you no longer apply them to the same object.” + +“I believe that Dr Arnold, if he be quoted correctly, spoke only half +the truth. One difference between boy and boy or man and man, no doubt, +is energy; but for great achievements or fame there must be also +application—viz., every energy concentred on one definite point, and +disciplined to strain towards it by patient habit. My energy, such as it +is, would not have brought my sheep-walks into profitable cultivation if +the energy had not been accompanied with devoted application to the +business. And it is astonishing how, when the energy is constantly +applied towards one settled aim—astonishing, I say—how invention is +kindled out of it. Thus, in many a quiet solitary morning’s walk round +my farm, some new idea, some hint of improvement or contrivance, occurs +to me; this I ponder and meditate upon till it takes the shape of +experiment. I presume that it is so with poet, artist, orator, or +statesman. His mind is habituated to apply itself to definite subjects +of observation and reflection, and out of this habitual musing thereon, +involuntarily spring the happy originalities of thinking which are +called his ‘inspirations.’” + +“One word more,” said I. “Do you consider, then, that which makes a man +devote himself to fame or ambition is a motive power of which he himself +is conscious?” + +“No; not always. I imagine that most men entering on some career are +originally impelled towards it by a motive which, at the time, they +seldom take the trouble to analyse or even to detect. They would at once +see what that motive was if early in the career it was withdrawn. In a +majority of cases it is the _res angusta_, yet not poverty in itself, +but a poverty disproportioned to the birth, or station, or tastes, or +intellectual culture of the aspirant. Thus, the peasant or operative +rarely feels in his poverty a motive power towards distinction out of +his craft; but the younger son of a gentleman does feel that motive +power. And hence a very large proportion of those who in various ways +have gained fame, have been the cadets of a gentleman’s family, or the +sons of poor clergymen, sometimes of farmers and tradesmen, who have +given them an education beyond the average of their class. Other motive +powers towards fame have been sometimes in ambition, sometimes in love; +sometimes in a great sorrow, from which a strong mind sought to wrest +itself; sometimes even in things that would appear frivolous to a +philosopher. I knew a young man, of no great talents, but of keen vanity +and great resolution and force of character, who, as a child, had been +impressed with envy of the red ribbon which his uncle wore as Knight of +the Bath. From his infancy he determined some day or other to win a red +ribbon for himself. He did so at last, and in trying to do so became +famous. + +“In great commercial communities a distinction is given to successful +trade, so that the motive power of youthful talent nourished in such +societies is mostly concentred on gain, not through avarice, but through +the love of approbation or esteem. Thus, it is noticeable that our great +manufacturing towns, where energy and application abound, have not +contributed their proportionate quota of men distinguished in arts or +sciences (except the mechanical), or polite letters, or the learned +professions. In rural districts, on the contrary, the desire of gain is +not associated with the desire of honour and distinction, and therefore, +in them, the youth early coveting fame strives for it in other channels +than those of gain. But whatever the original motive power, if it has +led to a continuous habit of the mind, and is not withdrawn before that +habit becomes a second nature, the habit will continue after the motive +power has either wholly ceased or become very faint, as the famous +scribbling Spanish cardinal is said, in popular legends, to have +continued to write on after he himself was dead. Thus, a man who has +acquired the obstinate habit of labouring for the public originally from +an enthusiastic estimate of the value of public applause, may, later, +conceive a great contempt for the public, and, in sincere cynicism, +become wholly indifferent to its praise or its censure, and yet, like +Swift, go on as long as the brain can retain faithful impressions and +perform its normal functions, writing for the public he so disdains. +Thus many a statesman, wearied and worn, satisfied of the hollowness of +political ambition, and no longer enjoying its rewards, sighing for +retirement and repose, nevertheless continues to wear his harness. Habit +has tyrannised over all his actions; break the habit, and the thread of +his life snaps with it! + +“Lastly, however, I am by no means sure that there is not in some few +natures an inborn irresistible activity, a constitutional attraction +between the one mind and the human species, which requires no special, +separate motive power from without to set it into those movements +which, perforce, lead to fame. I mean those men to whom we at once +accord the faculty which escapes all satisfactory metaphysical +definition—INGENIUM;—viz., the inborn spirit which we call genius. + +“And in _these_ natures, whatever the motive power that in the first +instance urged them on, if at any stage, however early, that motive +power be withdrawn, some other one will speedily replace it. Through +them Providence mysteriously acts on the whole world, and their genius +while on earth is one of Its most visible ministrants. But genius is the +exceptional phenomenon in human nature; and in examining the ordinary +laws that influence human minds we have no measurement and no scales for +portents.” + +“There is, however,” said Tracey, “one motive power towards careers of +public utility which you have not mentioned, but the thought of which +often haunts me in rebuke of my own inertness,—I mean, quite apart from +any object of vanity or ambition, the sense of our own duty to mankind; +and hence the devotion to public uses of whatever talents have been +given to us—not to hide under a bushel.” + +“I do not think,” answered Gray, “that when a man feels he is doing good +in his own way he need reproach himself that he is not doing good in +some other way to which he is not urged by special duty, and from which +he is repelled by constitutional temperament. I do not, for instance, +see that because you have a very large fortune you are morally obliged +to keep correspondent establishments, and adopt a mode of life hostile +to your tastes; you sufficiently discharge the duties of wealth if the +fair proportion of your income go to objects of well-considered +benevolence and purposes not unproductive to the community. Nor can I +think that I, who possess but a very moderate fortune, am morally called +upon to strive for its increase in the many good speculations which life +in a capital may offer to an eager mind, provided always that I do +nevertheless remember that I have children, to whose future provision +and wellbeing some modest augmentations of my fortune would be +desirable. In improving my land for their benefit, I may say also that I +add, however trivially, to the wealth of the country. Let me hope that +the trite saying is true, that ‘he who makes two blades of corn grow +where one grew before,’ is a benefactor to his race. So with mental +wealth: surely it is permitted to us to invest and expend it within that +sphere most suited to those idiosyncrasies, the adherence to which +constitutes our moral health. I do not, with the philosopher, condemn +the man who, irresistibly impelled towards the pursuit of honours and +power, persuades himself that he is toiling for the public good when he +is but gratifying his personal ambition;—probably he is a better man +thus acting in conformity with his own nature, than he would be if +placed beyond all temptation in Plato’s cave. Nor, on the other hand, +can I think that a man of the highest faculties and the largest +attainments, who has arrived at a sincere disdain of power or honours, +would be a better man if he were tyrannically forced to pursue the +objects from which his temperament recoils, upon the plea that he was +thus promoting the public welfare. No doubt, in every city, town, +street, and lane, there are bustling, officious, restless persons, who +thrust themselves into public concerns, with a loud declaration that +they are animated only by the desire of public good; they mistake their +fidgetiness for philanthropy. Not a bubble company can be started, but +what it is with a programme that its direct object is the public +benefit, and the ten per cent promised to the shareholders is but a +secondary consideration. Who believes in the sincerity of that +announcement? In fine, according both to religion and to philosophy, +virtue is the highest end of man’s endeavour; but virtue is wholly +independent of the popular shout or the lictor’s fasces. Virtue is the +same, whether with or without the laurel crown or the curule chair. +Honours do not sully it, but obscurity does not degrade. He who is +truthful, just, merciful, and kindly, does his duty to his race, and +fulfils his great end in creation, no matter whether the rays of his +life are not visibly beheld beyond the walls of his household, or +whether they strike the ends of the earth; for every human soul is a +world complete and integral, storing its own ultimate uses and destinies +within itself; viewed only for a brief while, in its rising on the gaze +of earth; pressing onward in its orbit amidst the infinite, when, +snatched from our eyes, we say, ‘It has passed away!’ And as every star, +however small it seem to us from the distance at which it shines, +contributes to the health of our atmosphere, so every soul, pure and +bright in itself, however far from our dwelling, however unremarked by +our vision, contributes to the wellbeing of the social system in which +it moves, and, in its privacy, is part and parcel of the public weal.” + +Shading my face with my hand, I remained some moments musing after +Gray’s voice had ceased. Then looking up, I saw so pleased and grateful +a smile upon Percival Tracey’s countenance, that I checked the reply by +which I had intended to submit a view of the subject in discussion +somewhat different from that which Gray had taken from the Portico of +the Stoics. Why should I attempt to mar whatever satisfaction Percival’s +reason or conscience had found in our host’s argument? His tree of life +was too firmly set for the bias of its stem to swerve in any new +direction towards light and air. Let it continue to rejoice in such +light and such air as was vouchsafed to the site on which it had taken +root. Evening, too, now drew in, and we had a long ride before us. A +little while after, we had bid adieu to Oakden Hall, and were once more +threading our way through the green and solitary lanes. + +We conversed but little for the first five or six miles. I was revolving +what I had heard, and considering how each man’s reasoning moulds itself +into excuse or applause for the course of life which he adopts. +Percival’s mind was employed in other thoughts, as became clear when he +thus spoke:— + +“Do you think, my dear friend, that you could spare me a week or two +longer? It would be a charity to me if you could, for I expect, after +to-morrow, to lose my young artist, and, alas! also the Thornhills.” + +“How! The Thornhills? So soon!” + +“I count on receiving to-morrow the formal announcement of Henry’s +promotion and exchange into the regiment he so desires to enter, with +the orders to join it abroad at once. Clara, I know, will not stay here; +she will be with her husband till he sails, and after his departure will +take her abode with his widowed mother. I shall miss them much. But +Thornhill feels that he is wasting his life here; and so—well—I have +acted for the best. With respect to the artist, this morning I received +a letter from my old friend Lord ——. He is going into Italy next week; +he wishes for some views of Italian scenery for a villa he has lately +bought, and will take Bourke with him, on my recommendation, leaving him +ultimately at Rome. Lord ——‘s friendship and countenance will be of +immense advantage to the young painter, and obtain him many orders. I +have to break it to Bourke this evening, and he will, no doubt, quit me +to-morrow to take leave of his family. For myself, as I always feel +somewhat melancholy in remaining on the same spot after friends depart +from it, I propose going to Bellevue, where I have a small yacht. It is +glorious weather for sea excursions. Come with me, my dear friend! The +fresh breezes will do you good; and we shall have leisure for talk on +all the subjects which both of us love to explore and guess at.” + +No proposition could be more alluring to me. My recent intercourse with +Tracey had renewed all the affection and interest with which he had +inspired my youth. My health and spirits had been already sensibly +improved by my brief holiday, and an excursion at sea had been the +special advice of my medical attendant. I hesitated a moment. Nothing +called me back to London except public business, and, in that, I foresaw +but the bare chance of a motion in Parliament which stood on the papers +for the next day; but my letters had assured me that this motion was +generally expected to be withdrawn or postponed. + +So I accepted the invitation gladly, provided nothing unforeseen should +interfere with it. + +Pleased by my cordial assent, Tracey’s talk now flowed forth with genial +animation. He described his villa overhanging the sea, with its covered +walks to the solitary beach—the many objects of interest and landscapes +of picturesque beauty within reach of easy rides, on days in which the +yacht might not tempt us. I listened with the delight of a schoolboy, to +whom some good-natured kinsman paints the luxuries of a home at which he +invites the schoolboy to spend the vacation. + +By little and little our conversation glided back to our young past, and +thence to those dreams, nourished ever by the young;—love and romance, +and home brightened by warmer beams than glow in the smile of sober +friendship. How the talk took this direction I know not; perhaps by +unconscious association, as the moon rose above the forest-hills, with +the love-star by her side. And, thus conversing, Tracey for the first +time alluded to that single passion which had vexed the smooth river of +his life—and which, thanks to Lady Gertrude, was already, though +vaguely, known to me. + +“It was,” said he, “just such a summer night as this, and, though in a +foreign country, amidst scenes of which these woodland hills remind me, +that the world seemed to me to have changed into a Fairyland; and, +looking into my heart, I said to myself, ‘This, then, is—love.’ And a +little while after, on such a night, and under such a moon, and amidst +such hills and groves, the world seemed blighted into a desert—life to +be evermore without hope or object; and, looking again into my heart, I +said, ‘This, then, is love denied!’” + +“Alas!” answered I, “there are few men in whose lives there is not some +secret memoir of an affection thwarted; but rarely indeed does an +affection thwarted leave a permanent influence on the after-destinies of +a man’s life. On that question I meditate an essay, which, if ever +printed, I will send to you.” + +I said this, wishing to draw him on, and expecting him to contradict my +assertion as to the enduring influence of a disappointed love. He mused +a moment or so in silence, and then said, “Well, perhaps so; an unhappy +love may not permanently affect our after-destinies, still it colours +our after-thoughts. It is strange that I should have only seen, +throughout my long and various existence, one woman whom I could have +wooed as my wife—one woman in whose presence I felt as if I were born +for her and she for me.” + +“May I ask you what was her peculiar charm in your eyes; or, if you +permit me to ask, can you explain it?” + +“No doubt,” answered Tracey, “much must be ascribed to the character of +her beauty, which realised the type I had formed to myself from boyhood +of womanly loveliness in form and face, and much also to a mind with +which a man, however cultivated, could hold equal commune. But to me her +predominating attraction was in a simple, unassuming nobleness of +sentiment—a truthful, loyal, devoted, self-sacrificing nature. In her +society I felt myself purified, exalted, as if in the presence of an +angel. But enough of this. I am resigned to my loss, and have long since +hung my votive tablet in the shrine of ‘Time the Consoler.’” + +“Forgive me if I am intrusive; but did she know that you loved her?” + +“I cannot say; probably most women discover if they are loved; but I +rejoice to think that I never told her so.” + +“Would she have rejected you if you had?” + +“Yes, unhesitatingly; her word was plighted to another. And though she +would not, for the man to whom she had betrothed herself, have left her +father alone in poverty and exile, she would never have married any one +else.” + +“You believe, then, that she loved your rival with a heart that could +not change?” + +Tracey did not immediately reply. At last he said, “I believe this—that +when scarcely out of girlhood, she considered herself engaged to be one +man’s wife, or for ever single. And if, in the course of time, and in +length of absence, she could have detected in her heart the growth of a +single thought unfaithful to her troth, she would have plucked it forth +and cast it from her as firmly as if already a wedded wife, with her +husband’s honour in her charge. She was one of those women with whom +man’s trust is for ever safe, and to whom a love at variance with +plighted troth is an impossibility. So, she lives in my thoughts still, +as I saw her last, five-and-twenty years ago, unalterable in her youth +and beauty. And I have been as true to her hallowed remembrance as she +was true to her maiden vows. May I never see her again on earth! Her or +her likeness I may find amidst the stars.” “No,” he added, in a lighter +and cheerier tone—“No; I do not think that my actual destinies, my ways +of life here below, have been affected by her loss. Had I won her, I can +scarcely conceive that I should have become more tempted to ambition or +less enamoured of home. Still, whatever leaves so deep a furrow in a +man’s heart cannot be meant in vain. Where the ploughshare cuts, there +the seed is sown, and there later the corn will spring. In a word, I +believe that everything of moment which befalls us in this life—which +occasions us some great sorrow—for which, in this life, we see not the +uses—has, nevertheless, its definite object, and that that object will +be visible on the other side of the grave. It may seem but a barren +grief in the history of a life—it may prove a fruitful joy in the +history of a soul. For if nothing in this world is accident, surely all +that which affects the only creature upon earth to whom immortality is +announced, must have a distinct and definite purpose, often not +developed till immortality begins.” + +Here we had entered on the wide spaces of the park. The deer and the +kine were asleep on the silvered grass, or under the shade of the quiet +trees. Now, as we cleared a beech-grove, we saw the lights gleaming from +the windows of the house, and the moon, at her full, resting still over +the peaceful housetop! Truly had Percival said, “That there are trains +of thought set in motion by the stars which are dormant in the glare of +the sun”—truly had he said, too, “That without such thoughts man’s +thinking is incomplete.” + +We gained the house, and, entering the library, it was pleasant to see +how instinctively all rose to gather round the master. They had missed +Percival’s bright presence the whole day. + +Some little time afterwards, when, seated next to Lady Gertrude, I was +talking to her of the Grays, I observed Tracey take aside the Painter, +and retire with him into the adjoining colonnade. They were not long +absent. When they returned, Bourke’s face, usually serious, was joyous +and elated. In a few moments, with all his Irish warmth of heart, he +burst forth with the announcement of the new obligations he owed to Sir +Percival Tracey. “I have always said,” exclaimed he, “that, give me an +opening and I will find or make my way. I have the opening now; you +shall see!” We all poured our congratulations upon the young enthusiast, +except Henry Thornhill, and his brow was shaded and his lip quivered. +Clara, watching him, curbed her own friendly words to the artist, and, +drawing to her husband’s side, placed her hand tenderly on his shoulder. +“Pish! do leave me alone,” muttered the ungracious churl. + +“See,” whispered Percival to me, “what a brute that fine young fellow +would become if we insisted on making him happy our own way, and saving +him from the chance of being shot!” + +Therewith rising, he gently led away Clara, to whose soft eyes tears had +rushed; and looking back to Henry, whose head was bended over a volume +of ‘The Wellington Despatches,’ said in his ear, half-fondly, +half-reproachfully, “Poor young fool! how bitterly you will repent every +word, every look of unkindness to her, when—when she is no more at your +side to pardon you!” + +That night it was long before I slept. I pleased myself with what is now +grown to me a rare amusement—viz., the laying out plans for the morrow. +This holiday, with Tracey all to myself; this summer sail on the seas; +this interval of golden idlesse, refined by intercourse with so serene +an intelligence, and on subjects so little broached in the world of +cities, fascinated my imagination; and I revolved a hundred questions it +would be delightful to raise, a hundred problems it would be impossible +to solve. Though my life has been a busy one, I believe that +constitutionally I am one of the most indolent men alive. To lie on the +grass in summer noons under breathless trees, to glide over smooth +waters, and watch the still shadows on tranquil shores, is happiness to +me. I need then no books—then, no companion. But if to that happiness in +the mere luxury of repose, I may add another happiness of a higher +nature, it is in converse with some one friend, upon subjects remote +from the practical work-day world,—subjects akin less to our active +thoughts than to our dreamlike reveries,—subjects conjectural, +speculative, fantastic, embracing not positive opinions—for opinions are +things combative and disputatious—but rather those queries and guesses +which start up from the farthest border-land of our reason, and lose +themselves in air as we attempt to chase and seize them. + +And perhaps this sort of talk, which leads to no conclusions clear +enough for the uses of wisdom, is the more alluring to me, because it is +very seldom to be indulged. I carefully separate from the business of +life all which belong to the visionary realm of speculative conjecture. +From the world of action I hold it imperatively safe to banish the ideas +which exhibit the cloud-land of metaphysical doubts and mystical +beliefs. In the actual world let me see by the same broad sun that gives +light to all men; it is only in the world of reverie that I amuse myself +with the sport of the dark lantern, letting its ray shoot before me into +the gloom, and caring not if, in its illusive light, the thorn-tree in +my path take the aspect of a ghost. I shall notice the thorn-tree all +the better, distinguish more clearly its shape, when I pass by it the +next day under the sun, for the impression it made on my fancy seen +first by the gleam of the dark lantern. Now, Tracey is one of the very +few highly-educated men it has been my lot to know, with whom one can +safely mount in rudderless balloons, drifting wind-tossed after those +ideas which are the phantoms of Reverie, and wander, ghost-like, out of +castles in the air. And my mind found a playfellow in his, where, in +other men’s minds, as richly cultured, it found only companions or +competitors in task-work. + +Towards dawn, I fell asleep, and dreamt that I was a child once more, +gathering bluebells and chasing dragonflies amidst murmuring +water-reeds. The next day I came down late; all had done breakfast. The +Painter was already gone; the Librarian had retired into his den. Henry +Thornhill was walking by himself to and fro, in front of the window, +with folded arms and downcast brow. Percival was seated apart, writing +letters. Clara was at work, stealing every now and then a mournful +glance towards Henry. Lady Gertrude, punctiliously keeping her place by +the tea-urn, filled my cup, and pointed to a heap of letters formidably +ranged before my plate. I glanced anxiously and rapidly over these +unwelcomed epistles. Thank heaven, nothing to take me back to London! My +political correspondent informed me, by a hasty line, that the dreaded +motion which stood first on the parliamentary paper for that day would +in all probability be postponed, agreeably to the request of the +Government. The mover of it had not, however, given a positive answer; +no doubt he would do so in the course of the night (last night); and +there was little doubt that, as a professed supporter of the Government, +he would yield to the request that had been made to him. + +So, after I had finished my abstemious breakfast, I took Percival aside +and told him that I considered myself free to prolong my stay, and asked +him, in a whisper, if he had yet received the official letter he +expected, announcing young Thornhill’s exchange and promotion. + +“Yes,” said he, “and I only waited for you to announce its contents to +poor Henry; for I wish you to tell me whether you think the news will +make him as happy as yesterday he thought it would.” + +Tracey and I then went out, and joined Henry in his walk. The young man +turned round on us an impatient countenance. + +“So we have lost Bourke,” said Tracey. “I hope he will return to England +with the reputation he goes forth to seek.” + +“Ay,” said Henry, “Bourke is a lucky dog to have found, in one who is +not related to him, so warm and so true a friend.” + +“Every dog, lucky or unlucky, has his day,” said Percival, gravely. + +“Every dog except a house-dog,” returned Henry. “A house-dog is thought +only fit for a chain and a kennel.” + +“Ah, happy if his happiness he knew!” replied Tracey. “But I own that +liberty compensates for the loss of a warm litter and a good dinner. +Away from the kennel and off with the chain! Read this letter, and +accept my congratulations—_Major_ Thornhill!” + +The young man started; the colour rushed to his cheeks; he glanced +hastily over the letter held out to him; dropped it; caught his +kinsman’s hand, and pressing it to his heart, exclaimed, “Oh, sir, +thanks, thanks! So then, all the while I was accusing you of obstructing +my career you were quietly promoting it! How can you forgive me my +petulance, my ingratitude?” + +“Tut,” said Percival, kindly, “the best-tempered man is sometimes cross +in his cups; and nothing, perhaps, more irritates a young brain than to +get drunk on the love of glory.” + +At the word glory the soldier’s crest rose, his eye flashed fire, his +whole aspect changed, it became lofty and noble. Suddenly his eye caught +sight of Clara, who had stepped out of the window, and stood gazing on +him. His head drooped, tears rushed to his eyes, and with a quivering, +broken voice, he muttered, “Poor Clara—my wife, my darling! Oh, Sir +Percival, truly you said how bitterly I should repent every unkind word +and look. Ah, they will haunt me!” + +“Put aside regrets now. Go and break the news to your wife: support, +comfort her; you alone can. I have not dared to tell her.” + +Henry sighed and went, no longer joyous, but with slow step and paling +cheek, to the place where Clara stood. We saw him bend over the hand she +held out to him, kiss it humbly, and then passing his arm round her +waist, he drew her away into the farther recesses of the garden, and +both disappeared from our eyes. + +“No,” said I, “he is not happy; like us all, he finds that things +coveted have no longer the same charm when they are things possessed. +Clara is avenged already. But you have done wisely. Let him succeed or +let him fail, you have removed from Clara her only rival. If you had +debarred him from honour you would have estranged him from love. Now you +have bound him to Clara for life. She has ceased to be an obstacle to +his dreams, and henceforth she herself will be the dream which his +waking life will sigh to regain.” + +“Heaven grant he may come back, with both his legs and both his arms; +and, perhaps, with a bit of ribbon, or five shillings’ worth of silver +on his breast,” said Percival, trying hard to be lively. “Of all my +kinsmen, I think I like him the best. He is rough as the east wind, but +honest as the day. Heigho! they will both leave us in an hour or two. +Clara’s voice is so sweet; I wonder when she will sing again! What a +blank the place will seem without those two young faces! As soon as they +are gone, we two will be off. Aunt Gertrude does not like Bellevue, and +will pay a visit for a few days to a cousin of hers on the other side of +the county. I must send on before to let the housekeeper at Bellevue +prepare for our coming. Meanwhile, pardon me if I leave you—perhaps you +have letters to write; if so, despatch them.” + +I was in no humour for writing letters, but when Percival left me I +strolled from the house into the garden, and, reclining there on a bench +opposite one of the fountains, enjoyed the calm beauty of the summer +morning. Time slipped by. Every now and then I caught sight of Henry and +Clara among the lilacs in one of the distant walks, his arm still round +her waist, her head leaning on his shoulder. At length they went into +the house, doubtless to prepare for their departure. + +I thought of the wild folly with which youth casts away the substance of +happiness to seize at the shadow which breaks on the wave that mirrors +it; wiser and happier surely the tranquil choice of Gray, though with +gifts and faculties far beyond those of the young man who mistook the +desire of fame for the power to win it. And then my thoughts settling +back on myself, I became conscious of a certain melancholy. How poor and +niggard compared with my early hopes had been my ultimate results! How +questioned, grudged, and litigated, my right of title to every inch of +ground that my thought had discovered or my toils had cultivated! What +motive power in me had, from boyhood to the verge of age, urged me on +“to scorn delight and love laborious days?” Whatever the motive power +once had been, I could no longer trace it. If vanity—of which, +doubtless, in youth I had my human share—I had long since grown rather +too callous than too sensitive to that love of approbation in which +vanity consists. I was stung by no penury of fortune, influenced by no +feverish thirst for a name that should outlive my grave, fooled by no +hope of the rewards which goad on ambition. I had reached the age when +Hope weighs her anchor and steers forth so far that her amplest sail +seems but a silvery speck on the last line of the horizon. Certainly I +flattered myself that my purposes linked my toils to some slight service +to mankind; that in graver efforts I was asserting opinions in the value +of which to human interests I sincerely believed, and in lighter aims +venting thoughts and releasing fancies which might add to the culture of +the world—not, indeed, fruitful harvests, but at least some lowly +flowers. But though such intent might be within my mind, could I tell +how far I unconsciously exaggerated its earnestness—still less could I +tell how far the intent was dignified by success? “Have I done aught for +which mankind would be the worse were it swept into nothingness +to-morrow?”—is a question which many a grand and fertile genius may, in +its true humility, address mournfully to itself. It is but a negative +praise, though it has been recorded as a high one, to leave + + “No line which, dying, we would wish to blot.” + +If that be all, as well leave no line at all. He has written in vain who +does not bequeath lines that, if blotted, would be a loss to that +treasure-house of mind which is the everlasting possession of the world. +Who, yet living, can even presume to guess if he shall do this? Not till +at least a century after his brain and his hand are dust can even +critics begin to form a rational conjecture of an author’s or a +statesman’s uses to his kind. Was it, then, as Gray had implied, merely +the force of habit which kept me in movement? if so, was it a habit +worth all the sacrifice it cost? Thus meditating, I forgot that if all +men reasoned thus and acted according to such reasoning, the earth would +have no intermediate human dwellers between the hewers and diggers, and +the idlers, born to consume the fruits which they do not plant. +Farewell, then, to all the embellishments and splendours by which +civilised man breathes his mind and his soul into nature. For it is not +only the genius of rarest intellects which adorns and aggrandises social +states, but the aspirations and the efforts of thousands and millions, +all towards the advance and uplifting and beautifying of the integral, +universal state, by the energies native to each. Where would be the +world fit for Traceys and Grays to dwell in, if all men philosophised +like the Traceys and the Grays? Where all the gracious arts, all the +generous rivalries of mind, that deck and animate the bright calm of +peace? Where all the devotion, heroism, self-sacrifice in a common +cause, that exalt humanity even amidst the rage and deformities of war, +if, throughout well-ordered, close-welded states, there ran not +electrically, from breast to breast, that love of honour which is a part +of man’s sense of beauty, or that instinct towards utility which, even +more than the genius too exceptional to be classed amongst the normal +regulations of social law, creates the marvels of mortal progress? Not, +however, I say, did I then address to myself these healthful and manly +questions. I felt only that I repined, and looked with mournful and +wearied eyes along an agitated, painful, laborious past. Rousing myself +with an effort from these embittered contemplations, the charm of the +external nature insensibly refreshed and gladdened me. I inhaled the +balm of an air sweet with flowers, felt the joy of the summer sun, from +which all life around seemed drawing visible happiness, and said to +myself gaily, “At least to-day is mine—this blissful sunlit day— + + ‘Nimium breves + Flores amænæ ferre jube rosæ, + Dum res et ætas et sororum, + Fila trium patiuntur atra!’” + +So murmuring, I rose as from a dream, and saw before me a strange +figure—a figure, uncouth, sinister, ominous as the evil genius that +startled Brutus on the eve of Philippi. I knew by an unmistakable +instinct that that figure _was_ an evil genius. + +“Do you want me? Who and what are you?” I asked, falteringly. + +“Please your honour, I come express from the N—— Station. A telegram.” + +I opened the scrap of paper extended to me, and read these words,— + +“O—— positively brings on his motion. Announced it last night too late +for post. Division certain—probably before dinner. Every vote wanted. +Come directly.” + +Said the Express with a cruel glee, as I dropped the paper, “Sir, the +station-master also received a telegram to send over a fly. I have +brought one; only just in time to catch the half-past twelve o’clock; no +other train till six. You had best be quick, sir.” + +No help for it. I hurried back to the house, bade my servant follow by +the next train with my portmanteau—no moments left to wait for packing; +found Tracey in his quiet study—put the telegram into his hands. “You +see my excuse—adieu.” + +“Does this motion, then, interest you so much? Do you mean to speak on +it?” + +“No, but it must not be carried. Every vote against it is of +consequence. Besides, I have promised to vote, and cannot stay away with +honour.” + +“Honour! That settles it. I must go to Bellevue alone; or shall I take +Caleb and make him teach me Hebrew? But surely you will join me +to-morrow, or the next day?” + +“Yes, if I can. But heavens!” (glancing at the clock)—“not half an hour +to reach the station—six miles off. Kindest regards to Lady +Gertrude—poor Clara—Henry—and all. Heaven bless you!” + +I am in the fly—I am off. I gain the station just in time for the +train—arrive at the House of Commons in more than time as to a vote, for +the debate not only lasted all that night, but was adjourned till the +next week, and lasted the greater part of that, when it was withdrawn, +and—no vote at all! + +But I could not then return to Tracey. Every man accustomed to business +in London knows how, once there, hour after hour, arises a something +that will not allow him to depart. When at length freed, I knew Tracey +would no longer need my companionship—his Swedish philosopher was then +with him. They were deep in scientific mysteries, on which, as I could +throw no light, I should be but a profane intruder. Besides, I was then +summoned to my own country place, and had there to receive my own +guests, long pre-engaged. So passed the rest of the summer; in the +autumn I went abroad, and have never visited the Castle of Indolence +since those golden days. In truth I resisted a frequent and a haunting +desire to do so. I felt that a second and a longer sojourn in that +serene but relaxing atmosphere might unnerve me for the work which I had +imposed on myself, and sought to persuade my tempted conscience was an +inexorable duty. Experience had taught me that in the sight of that +intellectual repose, so calm and so dreamily happy, my mind became +unsettled, and nourished seeds that might ripen to discontent of the lot +I had chosen for myself. So then, _sicut meus est mos_, I seize a +consolation for the loss of enjoyments that I may not act anew by living +them over again, in fancy and remembrance: I give to my record the title +of “Motive Power,” though it contains much episodical to that thesis, +and though it rather sports around the subject so indicated than +subjects it to strict analysis. But I here take for myself the excuse I +have elsewhere made for Montaigne, in his loose observance of the +connection between the matter and the titles of his essays. + +I must leave it to the reader to blame or acquit me for having admitted +so many lengthy descriptions, so many digressive turns and shifts of +thought and sentiment, through which, as through a labyrinth, he winds +his way, with steps often checked and often retrogressive, still, sooner +or later, creeping on to the heart of the maze. There I leave him to +find the way out. Labyrinths have no interest if we give the clue to +them. + + + + + MRS CLIFFORD’S MARRIAGE. + + + PART I. + + + CHAPTER I.—THE LADIES’ OPINION. + +“You don’t mean to say she’s going to be married—not Mary? I don’t +believe a word of it. She was too fond of her poor husband who put such +trust in her. No, no, child—don’t tell such nonsense to me.” + +So said old Miss Harwood when the dreadful intelligence was first +communicated to her. The two old sisters, who were both charitable old +souls, and liked to think the best of everybody, were equally distressed +about this piece of village scandal. “I don’t say anything about her +poor husband—he was a fool to trust so much to a woman of her age,” said +Miss Amelia; “but in my opinion Mary Clifford has sense to know when +she’s well off.” The very idea made the sisters angry: a woman with five +thousand a-year, with five fine children, with the handsomest house and +most perfect little establishment within twenty miles of Summerhayes; a +widow, with nobody to cross or contradict her, with her own way and will +to her heart’s content—young enough to be still admired and paid +attention to, and old enough to indulge in those female pleasures +without any harm coming of it; to think of a woman in such exceptionally +blessed circumstances stooping her head under the yoke, and yielding a +second time to the subjection of marriage, was more than either of the +Miss Harwoods could believe. + +“But I believe it’s quite true—indeed, I _know_ it’s quite true,” said +the curate’s little wife. “Mr Spencer heard it first from the Miss +Summerhayes, who did not know what to think—their own brother, you know; +and yet they couldn’t forget that poor dear Mr Clifford was their +cousin; and then they are neither of them married themselves, poor +dears, which makes them harder upon her.” + +“We have never been married,” said Miss Amelia; “I don’t see what +difference that makes. It is amusing to see the airs you little +creatures give yourselves on the strength of being married. I suppose +_you_ think it’s all right—it’s a compliment to her first husband, eh? +and shows she was happy with him?—that’s what the men say when they take +a second wife; that’s how you would do I suppose, if——” + +“Oh, Miss Amelia, don’t be so cruel,” cried the little wife. “I should +die. Do you think I could ever endure to live without Julius? I don’t +understand what people’s hearts are made of that can do such things: but +then,” added the little woman, wiping her bright eyes, “Mr Clifford was +not like my husband. He was very good, I daresay, and all that—but he +wasn’t ——. Well, I don’t think he was a taking man. He used to sit such +a long time after dinner. He used to——it’s very wicked to be unkind to +the dead—but he wasn’t the sort of man a woman could break her heart +for, you know.” + +“I should like to know who is,” said Miss Amelia. “He left her +everything, without making provision for one of the children. He gave +her the entire power, like a fool, at her age. He did not deserve +anything better; but it appears to me that Mary Clifford has the sense +to know when she’s well off.” + +“Well, well!” said old Miss Harwood, “I couldn’t have believed it, but +now as you go on discussing, I daresay it’ll turn out true. When a thing +comes so far as to be discussed, it’s going to happen. I’ve always found +it so. Well, well! love has gone out of fashion nowadays. When I was a +girl things were different. We did not talk about it half so much, nor +read novels. But we had the right feelings. I daresay she will just be +as affectionate to Tom Summerhayes as she was to her poor dear husband. +Oh, my dear, it’s very sad—I think it’s very sad—five fine children, and +she can’t be content with that. It’ll turn out badly, dear, and that +you’ll see.” + +“He’ll swindle her out of all her money,” said Miss Amelia. + +“Oh, don’t say such dreadful things,” cried the curate’s little wife, +getting up hastily. “I am sure I hope they’ll be happy—that is, as happy +as they _can_ be,” she added, with a touch of candid disapproval. “I +must run away to baby now; the poor dear children!—I must say I am sorry +for them—to have another man brought in in their poor papa’s place; but +oh, I must run away, else I shall be saying cruel things too.” + +The two Miss Harwoods discussed this interesting subject largely after +Mrs Spencer had gone. The Summerhayes people had been, on the whole, +wonderfully merciful to Mrs Clifford during her five years’ solitary +reign at Fontanel. She had been an affectionate wife—she was a good +mother—she had worn the weeds of her widowhood seriously, and had not +plunged into any indiscreet gaieties when she took them off; while, at +the same time, she had emerged sufficiently from her seclusion to +restore Fontanel to its old position as one of the pleasantest houses in +the county. What could woman do more? Tom Summerhayes was her husband’s +cousin; he had been brought up to the law, and naturally understood +affairs in general better than she did. Everybody knew that he was an +idle fellow. After old Mr Summerhayes died, everybody quite expected +that Tom would settle down in the old manor, and live an agreeable +useless life, instead of toiling himself to death in hopes of one day +being Lord Chancellor—a very unlikely chance at the best; and events +came about exactly as everybody had predicted. At the same time, the +entire neighbourhood allowed that Tom had exerted himself quite beyond +all precedent on behalf of his cousin’s widow. Poor Mary Clifford had a +great deal too much on her hands, he was always saying. It was a selfish +sort of kindness to crush down a poor little woman under all that weight +of wealth and responsibility; and so, at last, here was what had come of +it. The Miss Harwoods sat and talked it all over that cold day in the +drawing-room of Woodbine Cottage, which had one window looking to the +village-green, and another, a large, round, bright bow-window, opening +to the garden. The fire was more agreeable than the garden that day. +Miss Harwood sat knitting in her easy-chair, while Miss Amelia occupied +herself in ticketing all that miscellaneous basket of articles destined +for the bazaar of ladies’ work to be held in Summerhayes in February; +but work advanced slowly under the influence of such an inducement to +talk. The old ladies, as may be supposed, came to a sudden pause and +looked confused and guilty when the door opened and the Miss Summerhayes +were announced. Perhaps the new visitors might even have heard something +of the conversation which was going on with so much animation. Certainly +it came to a most abrupt conclusion, and the Miss Harwoods looked +consciously into each other’s faces when the ladies of the manor-house +came to the door. + +These ladies were no longer young, but they were far from having reached +the venerable certainty of old-maidenhood which possessed the atmosphere +of Woodbine Cottage. They were still in the fidgety unsettled stage of +unweddedness—women who had fallen out of their occupation, and were +subject to little tempers and vapours, not from real ill-humour or +sourness, but simply by reason of the vacancy and unsatisfaction of +their lives. The Miss Summerhayes often enough did not know what to do +with themselves; and being unphilosophical, as women naturally are, they +set down this restless condition of mind, not to the account of human +nature generally, and of female impatience in particular, but to their +own single and unwedded condition—a matter which still seemed capable of +remedy; so that the fact must be admitted, that Miss Laura and Miss +Lydia were sometimes a little flighty and uncertain in their temper; +sometimes a little harsh in their judgments; and, in short, in most +matters, betrayed a certain unsettledness and impatience in their minds, +as people generally do, in every condition of existence, when they are +discontented with their lot. The chances are that nothing would have +pleased them better than to have plunged into an immediate discussion of +all the circumstances of this strange piece of news with which +Summerhayes was ringing; but the position was complicated by the fact +that they were accompanied by little Louisa Clifford, who was old enough +to understand all that was said, and quick enough to guess at any +allusion which might be made to her mother, however skilfully veiled; so +that, on the whole, the situation was as difficult a one for the four +ladies, burning to speak but yet incapable of utterance, as can well be +conceived. + +“Oh, how far on _you_ are,” cried Miss Laura; “I have not got in half +the work that has been promised to me; but you always are first with +everything—first in gardening, first in working, first in——” + +“All the news, I am sure,” said Miss Lydia; “we, of course, never hear +anything till it has happened. Provoking! Loo, shouldn’t you like to go +to Miss Harwood’s maid, and ask her to show you the chickens? She has a +perfect genius for poultry, though she is such a little thing; and Miss +Amelia has such loves of dorkings. We shan’t be leaving for half an +hour; now go, there’s a dear!” + +“Thank you, cousin Lydia, I’d rather look at the things for the bazaar,” +returned Loo, lifting a pair of acute suspicious eyes; a pale-faced +little creature, sharp-witted and vigilant, instinctively conscious why +her amusement was thus carefully provided for—Loo did not choose to go. + +“Such a nuisance!” said Miss Laura; “I say we are just far enough off at +the manor to be out of reach of everything except the bores and the +troubles. You always think of us when you have stupid visitors, but you +keep all that’s exciting to yourselves. Loo, darling! the Miss Harwoods’ +violets are always out earlier than any one else’s. I have such a +passion for violets! Do run out, dear, and see if you can find one for +me yonder under the hedge.” + +“I will ask mamma to send you some to-morrow, cousin Laura,” said the +determined little Loo. + +“Did you ever hear anything like it?” said Miss Lydia, in a half +whisper. “Loo!” + +“Loo will carry this basket up-stairs for me to my room,” said Miss +Harwood, “and ask Harriet to show you the things in my cupboard, dear. +All the prettiest things are there, and such a very grand cushion that I +mean to make your mamma buy. Tell Harriet to show you everything; +there’s a darling! That is a very bright little girl, my dears,” said +the old lady, when Loo withdrew, reluctant but dutiful. “I hope nothing +will ever be done to crush her spirit. I suppose you must have both come +to tell us it’s not true.” + +“Oh, you mean about my brother and Mary Clifford,” cried out both +sisters in a breath. “Oh, Miss Harwood, did you ever hear of such a +thing! Did you ever know anything so dreadful! Tom, that might have +married anybody!” cried Miss Lydia; “and Mary Clifford, that was so +inconsolable, and pretended to have broken her heart!” cried the younger +sister. They were both in a flutter of eagerness, neither permitting the +other to speak. + +“Oh dear, dear, it does come so hard upon us,” said Miss Laura, “we that +have always had such a prejudice against second marriages; and a +cousin’s widow—it’s almost like a brother; and if poor Harry could rise +from his grave, what would he say!” concluded Miss Lydia, who took up +the strain without any intervals of punctuation. “I begin to think it’s +all true the gentlemen say about women’s inconstancy; that is, your +common style of women,” ran on the elder without any pause; “and poor +dear Tom, who might have married any one,” cried the younger, out of +breath. + +“Then I perceive,” said Miss Amelia Harwood, “it’s true? Well, I don’t +see much harm, for my part, if they have everything properly settled +first. Poor Harry was all very well, I daresay, but he was a great fool +not to provide for his children. Your brother said so at the time; but I +did think, for my part, that Mary Clifford had the sense to know when +she was well off.” + +“Oh, she shows that,” cried Lydia Summerhayes, with a little toss of her +head; “widows are so designing; they know the ways of men, and how to +manage them, very differently from any of us—if _we_ could stoop to such +a thing, which of course, we wouldn’t. Oh yes, Mary Clifford knows +_very_ well what she’s about. I am sure I have told Tom he was her +honorary secretary for many a day. I thought she was just making use of +him to serve her own purpose; I never thought how far her wiles went. If +it had been her lawyer, or the curate, or any humble person; but Tom! He +might have done so much better,” said Laura, chiming in at some +imperceptible point, so that it was impossible to tell where one voice +ended and the other began. + +“Well, I must say I am disappointed in Mary Clifford,” said Miss +Harwood, “she was always such an affectionate creature. That’s why it +is, I daresay. These affectionate people can’t do without an object; but +her five children——” + +“Ah! yes, her five children,” exclaimed the Miss Summerhayes; “only +imagine dear Tom making such a marriage! Why, Charley Clifford has been +at Eton ever so long; he is fifteen. And dear Tom is quite a young man, +and might have married anybody,” said the last of the two, taking up the +chorus: “it is too dreadful to think of it—such a cutting blow to us.” + +“I can’t see how it is so very bad for you,” said Miss Amelia Harwood; +“of course they will live at Fontanel, and you will still keep the +manor-house. I think it’s rather a good thing for you for my part. Hush! +there’s the child again—clever little thing—she knows quite well what +we’ve been talking of. My dear, I hope Harriet showed you all the +things—and isn’t that a pretty cushion? Tell your mamma I mean to make +her buy it, as she is the richest lady I know.” + +“Are you going, my dears?” said the elder old lady. “I am sorry you have +so little time to stay—I hope you will find things arrange themselves +comfortably, and that everybody will be happy. Don’t get excited—it’s +astonishing how everything settles down. You want to speak to me, Loo,” +said Miss Harwood, starting a little when she had just reseated herself +in her easy-chair after dismissing her visitors. “Certainly, dear; I +suppose you have set your little heart on one of the pretty pincushions +up-stairs.” + +“No, indeed, nothing of the sort—I hope I know better than to care for +such trumpery,” said Loo, with an angry glow on her little pale face. “I +stopped behind to say, that whatever mamma pleases to do, we mean to +stand by her,” cried poor Mary Clifford’s only champion. “I’m not sure +whether I shall like it or not for myself—but we have made up our minds +to stand by mamma, and so we will, as long as we live; and she shall do +what she likes!” cried the little heroine. Two big tears were in those +brown eyes, which looked twice as bright and as big through those great +dew-drops which Loo would not for the world have allowed to fall. She +opened her eyelids wider and wider to re-absorb the untimely tears, and +looked full, with childish defiance, in Miss Harwood’s face. + +“Loo, you are a dear!” said prompt Miss Amelia, kissing the child; “you +shall have the prettiest pincushion in all my basket.” The little girl +vanished suddenly after this speech, half in indignation at the promise, +half because the tears would not be disposed of otherwise, and it was +necessary to rush outside to conceal their dropping. “Ah! Amelia,” said +kind old Miss Harwood, “I’m sorry for poor Mary in my heart—but I’d +rather have that child’s love than Tom Summerhayes.” + +“_Poor_ Mary! for my part, I have no patience with her,” said the +practical Miss Amelia; “a woman come to her time of life ought to have +the sense to know when she’s well off.” + +Such was the character of the comments made upon Mrs Clifford’s marriage +when it was first talked of, in Woodbine Cottage, and generally among +all the female portion of society as it existed in Summerhayes. + + + CHAPTER II.—WHAT THE GENTLEMEN SAID. + +The Rector of Summerhayes was the Miss Harwoods’ brother, much younger +however, unmarried, and rather a fine man in his way. He had a little +dinner, as it happened, the same evening. His table only held six, Mr +Harwood said. The rectory was an old-fashioned house, and the +dining-room would have quite admitted a table which could dine +twenty—but such were not the Rector’s inclinations. There are enough men +in the neighbourhood of Summerhayes to make it very possible to vary +your parties pleasantly when you have a table that only holds six, +whereas with a large number you can only have the same people over and +over again; and Mr Harwood did not like to be bored. He had a friend +with him from town, as he always had on such occasions. He had his +curate, and young Chesterfield from Dalton, and Major Aldborough, and Dr +Gossett; rather a village party—as he explained to Mr Temple, the +stranger—but not bad company. The dinner was a very good one, like all +the Rector’s little dinners, and was consumed with that judicious +reticence in the way of talk, and wise suspension of wit, which is only +practicable in a party composed of men. By means of this sensible +quietness, the dinner was done full justice to, and the company expanded +into full force over their wine. Then the conversation became animated. +The Rector, it is true, indulged in ten minutes’ parish talk with the +Doctor, while Mr Temple and Major Aldborough opened the first parallel +of a political duel, and young Chesterfield discoursed on the last Meet +to poor Mr Spencer, who, reduced into curate-hood and economy, still +felt his mouth water over such forbidden pleasures. Then Mr Harwood +himself introduced the subject which at that time reigned paramount over +all other subjects at Summerhayes. + +“So Tom Summerhayes is going to marry little Mrs Clifford,” said the +Rector; “hadn’t you heard of it? Yes, these grapes are from Fontanel. +She has a capital gardener, and her conservatories are the finest in the +county. A very pleasant little house altogether, though there are some +particulars about her table which one feels to be feeble. Her dinners +are always a little defective since poor Clifford’s death—too mild, you +know—too sweet—want the severer taste of a man.” + +“Mrs Clifford—a pretty little woman with brown eyes?” said Mr Temple. +“I’ve met her somewhere. So she gives dinners, does she? When I saw her +she was in the recluse line. I suppose that didn’t last.” + +“It lasted quite long enough,” said Dr Gossett; “nothing could be more +proper, or more ladylike, or more satisfactory in every way. If I had a +wife and were unluckily to die, I should wish her just to wear her weeds +and so forth like Mrs Clifford—a charming woman; what should we do +without her in the parish? but as for Tom Summerhayes——” + +“He’s an ass,” growled the Major. “What’s he got to do burdening himself +with other people’s children. Why, there’s five of ’em, sir! They’ll +hate him like poison—they’ll think he’s in no end of conspiracies to +shut them out of their fortune. By Jove! if he knew as much about other +people’s children as I do. I’ve had two families consigned to me from +India—as if I were a reformatory, or a schoolmaster, by Jove! _She’s_ +all very well, as women go; but I wouldn’t marry that family—no, not for +_twenty_-five thousand a-year.” + +“I confess I think it’s a pity,” said Mr Spencer, playing with the +Fontanel grapes. The Curate perhaps was thinking in his heart that such +delicate little souvenirs might have gone quite as appropriately to his +own little _ménage_ as to the Rector’s, who lacked for nothing. “It’s +like going into life at second hand, you know. I shouldn’t like it, for +my part. The children are a drawback, to be sure; but that’s not the +greatest, to my mind; they are nice enough children.” + +“Delightful children!” cried the Doctor, “little bricks! plucky little +things! I don’t care for babies, though they’re partly my business. A +family ready made would just suit me.” + +“Well, it ain’t much in my line to say what a fellow ought or oughtn’t +to do,” said young Chesterfield. “I’m not a marrying man myself. I don’t +pretend to understand that sort of thing, you know. But Summerhayes +ain’t a spoon, as everybody will allow. He knows what he’s doing. Last +time I was at Fontanel, I couldn’t make out for the life of me what Mrs +Clifford wanted with that new set of stables. She said they were +preparing against Charley’s growing up. I thought somehow Summerhayes +must have a hand in it, and it’s plain enough now.” + +“Well, he has done a great deal for her,” said the Rector; “he’s been a +sort of unpaid steward at Fontanel. I daresay she didn’t know how to +reward him otherwise. I believe that’s the handiest way of making it up +to a man in a lady’s fancy. It’s a dangerous kind of business to go on +long; but I don’t know that there’s anything to find fault with. She’s +pretty and he’s not young;—well, not exactly a young fellow, I mean,” +said the Rector, with a half apology. “I daresay they’ll do very well +together. If poor Clifford had only made a sensible will—but for that +nobody would have had any right to talk.” + +“And what was poor Clifford’s will?” asked the stranger, with a polite +yawn; “men don’t generally study their wife’s convenience in a second +marriage, in that document; has the defunct been harder upon this lively +lady than most husbands, or what’s wrong about his will?” + +“Deuced fool, sir,” cried the Major; “left her every farthing he had in +the world, without settling a penny on those deuced children, or binding +her up anyhow; left her at thirty or so, I suppose, with every penny he +had in her hands. Never heard of such an ass. Of course that’s what +Summerhayes means, but I can tell him it won’t be a bed of roses. +They’ll hate him like poison, these brats will—they’ll make parties +against him—they’ll serve him so that he’ll be sick of his life. I know +the whole business. He’s well enough off now, with his old father’s +savings, and the manor-house, and nothing to do; but he’ll be a wretched +man, mark my words, if he marries Fontanel with five children in it. +It’s the maddest thing he ever did in his life.” + +“The poor lady doesn’t seem to count for much,” said Mr Temple. “She’s a +pretty nobody, I suppose.” + +Upon which vehement disclaimers rose from all the _convives_. “No, she +was a charming woman,” Gossett said. “A dear, kind-hearted, good little +soul,” said the Rector. “Very well as women go,” the Major admitted; +while the two young men added warmer, but equally vague commendations. +“Yet none of you imagine she is being married for herself,” said the +solitary individual who did not belong to Summerhayes, with a little +laugh at the perturbation he had caused. But nobody saw the fun of it: +they went on with the discussion, ignoring Mr Temple. + +“When a woman is in Mrs Clifford’s position,” said the Doctor, “it is +nonsense to talk of her _being_ married. She is active, she is no longer +passive in such a business. She’s richer, she’s _gooder_, she’s +handsomer, she’s better off every way than Tom Summerhayes. How she ever +came to fancy him is the wonder to me.” + +“Deuced nonsense,” said the Major; “why didn’t he marry off his sisters +and set up snug for himself? He’s old enough to know better, that fellow +is. There’s young Chesterfield there, he’s at the time of life to make a +fool of himself; but Summerhayes must be, let me see——” + +“Don’t let us go into chronology,” said the Rector. “Poor little Mary, I +hope she’ll be happy all the same. I married her to poor Clifford, and I +daresay I’ll have this little business to do as well. I wish she had a +brother, or an uncle, or some one to take that piece of duty off my +hands. I think I will have one of my attacks, and go off to Malvern, and +leave it, Spencer, to you.” + +“I wish she had an uncle or a brother for more than that,” said the +Doctor; “it ought to be seen to—the settlement and all that should be +looked well into. I hope she’ll have her wits about her. Not that I mean +to ascribe any mean motives to Tom Summerhayes; but still when there’s +five children to be considered——” + +“They’ll kill him, sir,” said the Major, with energy. “He’ll not enjoy +her money for long, mark my words; they’ll kill him in a year. I have +only got this to say, sir,” continued the warrior, turning round upon Mr +Temple, who had ventured a remark not bearing on the present subject to +the Curate, “if this income-tax is going to be kept up without any +compensation, I’ll emigrate—it’s the only thing that remains for honest +Englishmen. After a life spent in the service of my country, I’ll be +driven to a colony, sir, in my old age. It’s more than the country can +bear, and what’s better, it’s more than the country _will_ bear. We’ll +have a revolution, by Jove! that’s what will come of all this taxing and +paying; it’s not to be borne, sir, in a land that calls itself free.” + +Whereupon politics came into possession of the elders of the party, and +young Chesterfield resumed that tantalising account of the Meet which +made the poor Curate sigh. + +Poor Mrs Clifford! she had but scant sympathy in those innumerable +discussions, male and female, of which she was at present the subject, +all in and about Summerhayes. + + + CHAPTER III.—WHAT THE CHILDREN HAD TO SAY. + +Meanwhile little Loo, with another pair of big tears in her brown eyes, +had been driven home in the wintry twilight over the frosty road, which +rang to every stamp of her ponies’ heels in a way which would have +excited the little thing into positive enjoyment of the exhilarating +sounds and sensations of rapid motion, had things been as usual. As it +was, she sat wrapped up in a fur cloak, with her little veil over her +face, watching the great trees glide past in the darkening, and turning +her wistful looks now and then to the young winterly moon, which had +strayed like a lost child into the midst of a whole covey of clouds, +still crimsoned with reflections from the sunset. Loo’s little heart +ached so, and she was so steadfastly determined not to admit that it was +aching, that she was almost glad to feel how chill her little feet were +getting, and how benumbed the hand which was outside of the fur cloak. +She kept her little stiff fingers exposed to the frosty breeze all the +same, and was rather glad of that sensation of misery which gave her a +little excuse to herself for feeling unhappy. As the tinges of crimson +stole out of the clouds, and the sky grew so wistfully, coldly clear +around the moon, Fontanel came in sight, with lights in all its windows, +twinkling through the trees in the long avenue, now one gleam, now +another, as the little carriage drove on. There first of all was the +great nursery window blazing with firelight, where Loo meant to hold a +little committee as soon as she got in, and where she could so well +picture “all of them” in all their different occupations, populating all +the corners of the familiar room. A little further on it was the window +of mamma’s room, which lightened brightly out behind the bare branches +of the great chestnut tree. What would the house be without mamma? the +little girl asked herself, and the great blobs of hot dew in her eyes +fell upon her cold fingers. “Aren’t you well, Miss Loo?” asked the old +groom who drove her, and Loo made him a very sharp answer in the +irritation of her troubled little heart. She ran into the light and +comfort of the house with a perverse, childish misery which she did not +understand. She would not let old William take her cloak from her, but +threw it down, and stumbled over it, and stamped her little foot, and +could have cried. Poor little Loo! she was sick at heart, and did not +know what it meant. Instead of going to her mother, as she usually did, +she hastened up to the nursery where “all of them” were in a highly +riotous condition at the moment, and where the darkness of her little +face was unnoted by all but nurse, who took off her boots and warmed her +feet, and did away with the only physical reason Loo dared to pretend to +as an excuse for looking wretched. It was not very easy to look wretched +in that room. By the side of the fire where a great log blazed was +Harry, aged ten, with a great book clasped in his arms, and his cheeks +and hair equally scorched and crimsoned with near vicinity to the flame. +Little Mary, and Alf, the baby, were playing at the other end of the +room. Alf was six, though he was the baby; but Mrs Clifford was the kind +of woman to love a pet, and the little fellow’s indignant manhood was +still smothered in long curls and lace tuckers. He avenged himself by +exercising the most odious tyranny over his next little sister, who was +Baby’s slave. All this little company Loo looked round upon with +mysterious looks. She herself was twelve, little and pale, with nothing +particular about her but her eyes, and her temper, which had already +made itself, unfortunately, felt through the house. She sat maturing her +plans till she heard the clock strike, and saw that it would shortly be +time to go to her mother in her dressing-room, as the Fontanel children +always did before dinner. She immediately bestirred herself to her task. + +“Nurse,” said Loo, “will you take these things down to mamma’s +dressing-room, please, and tell her we will all come presently; and if +you wish to go down-stairs, you may. I will take care of the children, +and take them down to mamma.” + +“Thank you, Miss Loo; but there’s nobody to be at dinner but Mr +Summerhayes and Mademoiselle, and you’re all to go down,” said Nurse; +“you’re too little to have the charge of Master Alf, and you’ve all got +to be dressed, dears, for dessert.” + +“Then you can come up when I ring. I want the children by themselves,” +said little Loo, with her imperious air. “You can go away.” + +“You’re a deal too forward for such a little thing. I’ll speak to your +ma, Miss, I will,” said the offended nurse. “At least I would if it was +any good; but as long as Missis encourages her like this;—oh children +dear, there’s changed times coming! You won’t have the upper hand +always; it’s a comfort to a poor servant anyhow, whatever it may be to +other folks. I’m going, Miss Loo; and you’ll come up directly the very +minute you leave your ma to be dressed.” + +Loo watched her to the door, and, skipping off her chair, closed it +behind the dethroned guardian of the nursery. “Now, children, come here, +I want to speak to you all,” said the little princess. “Mary, don’t be +as great a baby as Alf; you are eight—you are almost a woman. Alf, come +here and stand by me like a gentleman. Harry——” + +But Harry was not so easily roused. He had been lectured so long about +scorching his face that he was now proof to all appeals. He had to be +hunted up out of his corner, and the book skilfully tilted up and thrown +out of his arms, which operation surprised Loo into a momentary laugh, +of which she was much ashamed. “Harry!” she cried, with redoubled +severity, “it is no nonsense I am going to talk of—it is something very +serious. Oh, children!” exclaimed the elder sister, as Alf jumped upon +Harry’s back, and the two had a harmless scuffle in continuation of that +assault which had roused Harry. “Oh, children!” cried Loo, who had +laughed in spite of herself, now bursting into quick tears of impatience +and vexation. “You play and play and think of nothing else—and you won’t +let me talk to you of what’s going to happen to mamma.” + +“What is it?” cried Harry, opening a pair of great bright eyes, and +coming hastily to his sister’s side. Alf asked “What is it?” too, and +placed himself on the other hand. As for Mary, she was frightened and +stood a little apart, ready to rush off to her mother, or to ring for +Nurse, or to do anything else that the exigency might demand. + +“Do you remember what mamma said to us when we were in the dining-room +on Sunday after dinner, when Tom—I mean when Mr Summerhayes was +there—when he kissed us all?” said Loo, with a little red spot suddenly +glowing out upon one indignant little cheek. + +“She said he was going to be a father to us,” said Harry, rather +stolidly. + +“And we didn’t know what it meant,” said little Mary, breaking in +eagerly, “but Nurse told me afterwards. It means that mamma is going to +be married to cousin Tom. Oh, won’t it be queer? Shall we have to call +him papa, Loo? I shall never recollect, I am sure.” + +Loo gazed with eyes growing larger and larger in the face of her +insensible sister. Then seeing Mary’s arm on the top of the great +nursery fender, Loo, we are sorry to say, was so far betrayed by her +resentment as to thrust little Mary violently away with a sob of +passion. They all looked at her with wondering eyes. + +“Oh, you stupid, stupid children!” cried the poor little heroine, “don’t +you know mamma, though she is so pretty, is not a young lady like other +people that are going to be married; don’t you know people talk about +it, and laugh at her, and say she is foolish? I have heard them do it!” +cried Loo. “I heard them in Summerhayes to-day talking and scolding +about our mamma. She knows best what to do—better than all of them. She +will never be unkind to us, or stop loving us. Oh, only think if she +knew that people said such things—it would kill her! I heard them, and I +thought I should have died. And now, children,” said Loo, solemnly, +“what we’ve got to do is to go down to mamma, not jumping or making a +noise like great babies, but quiet and serious; and to tell her that she +is to do what she thinks best, and never mind what people say; and that +we—we,” sobbed the little girl, vainly trying to preserve her composure, +as she brought out word after word with a gush of tears—“we’ll stand by +her and trust in her, and never believe anything. That is what we must +go and say.” + +After she had finished her speech Loo fell into a little passion of +crying, in which she partly lost the slight murmurs and remonstrances of +her calmer and wondering audience; but passion as usual carried the day. +When Mrs Clifford’s bell rang the children went down-stairs, looking +rather scared, in a kind of procession, Loo coming last with Alf, who +had to be held tightly by the hand lest he should break out into +gambols, and destroy all the solemnity of the proceeding. Mrs Clifford +was sitting by the fire when they went in, in an attitude of thought. +The candles were not lighted, and it was very easy to suppose that mamma +herself looked sad, and was quite in a state of mind to be thus +addressed. Harry and Mary, rather ashamed of themselves, were already +carrying on a quiet scuffle at the door when Loo came up to them. “You +go first, Harry”—“No, you,” they were saying to each other. “Oh, you +stupid, stupid children, you have no feeling!” cried Loo, bitterly, as +she swept past them. Mrs Clifford looked up with a smile, and held out +her hand, which she expected to be grasped immediately by a crowd of +little fingers, but the mother’s looks were dreamy to-night, and some +one else was before her children in her thoughts. She was startled when +she felt Loo’s little cold hand put into hers, and woke up and pushed +her chair back from the fire to look at the little things who stood +huddled together before her. “What is the matter?” said Mrs Clifford. + +“Oh, mamma, mamma,” cried Loo; her poor little voice grew shrill, +notwithstanding all her efforts. She had to make a pause, and to +preserve her dignity had to let Alf go, who immediately went off to ride +on the arm of the sofa, and compromise the seriousness of the scene. +“Oh, mamma, dear,” said Loo, feeling that no time was to be lost, “we +have come to say that we will never believe anything; that we know you +love us, and will always love us—and—and—we believe in _you_; oh, mamma, +we believe in you, and we will always stand by you, if everybody in the +world were on the other side.” + +Here Loo fell, choking with tears and passion, on her mother’s +footstool, and laid her poor little head, which ached with cold and +crying, on Mrs Clifford’s lap. The mother’s eyes had woke up out of all +their dreaming. Perhaps it was as well the candles were not lighted. +That cheek which the widow screened with her hand was as crimson and as +hot as Harry’s had been reading over the fire. She was glad Loo’s keen +eyes were hidden upon her lap; she blushed, poor tender woman as she +was, before her children. The little woman-daughter was dreadful to her +mother at the moment—a little female judge, endued with all the +awfulness of nature, shaming the new love in her mature heart. + +“What does this all mean, children?” said Mrs Clifford, trying to be a +little angry, to conceal the shock she had received. + +“Oh, please mamma, it’s Loo,” cried Mary, frightened. “She made us come; +it was one of her passions.” + +“No, it was not one of her passions,” said Harry, who was Loo’s +champion; “it was to tell mamma we would always stand by her; and so I +will,” cried the boy on his own account, kindling up, “if there were any +robbers or anything—for I’m the eldest son when Charley’s at school.” + +Loo heard this where she lay, with her head on her mother’s lap; she was +incapable of speech or motion almost, but she could not but groan with +impatience over the stupidity of the children; and Alf was riding loudly +on the arm of the sofa, shouting to his imaginary horse. Loo gathered +herself up with a blush upon her cheeks; it did not enter into her head +to imagine that her mother blushed much more hotly and violently when +the little face unfolded itself slowly out of her lap. + +“Hush! Loo, don’t say any more,” said Mrs Clifford; then with a little +effort the mother put her arm round the child and drew her close. “I +understand what you mean—but you must not say any more,” she said; then +she stooped down her hot cheek upon that wet one of poor Loo’s. “We +shall all be very happy, I hope,” said Mrs Clifford in the dark, in her +little daughter’s ear. “I am doing it—for—for all your sakes, dear. He +will stand by you and me, and all of us, Loo. I hope we shall be—very +happy—happier even than we are now,” said Mrs Clifford, with a faint +little tremble in her voice and quiver at her heart. When she had kissed +Loo, and the child had gone away to compose herself, poor Mary, the +mother, sat for a long time looking into the fire with a terrible +misgiving upon her—“happier even than we are now.” Ah! just then she had +been so happy—all well in the prosperous, plentiful house; not an ache +or a trouble that she knew of among all her children; not a single look +of love dimmed to her yet by her resolution; and the new love, sweet as +any girl’s dream, restoring to her firmament all the transitory +delicious lights of youth. Somehow that prospect darkened under a +strange cloud of alarm and shame when the mother felt her cheeks flush +at the look of her woman-child. “I am doing it for—all their sakes,” she +tried to say to herself; but her innocence grew like guilt as she felt +in her heart that this pretence was not true. + + + CHAPTER IV.—HER OWN THOUGHTS. + +Mrs Clifford had not much time to think that night, and the impression +went off her when she was in her lover’s company—which was very nearly +always; for, long before this had been thought of, Tom Summerhayes had +been the soul of everything at Fontanel. She had come so gradually to +consult him about everything—to take his counsel upon small and great +that happened—that it seemed only natural now that he should belong to +her; but after Loo’s little scene a variety of annoyances came upon +Mary—indications of the world’s opinion—evidences that it did not seem +so natural to other people as to herself. Even Charley’s schoolboy +letter was rather dreadful to his mother. The boy bestowed his +approbation upon her match, and was to stand by her, too, in Loo’s very +vein; and the mother felt more humbled by thus obtaining the consent of +her children than she would have been by the sacrifice of all she had in +the world. Still it never came into her head to give up her +marriage—never, perhaps, till a day or two before, when things were much +too far advanced for any drawing back, and when she sat alone by her +fire, with her desk open before her, late at night when all the +household were asleep. In her desk were various little matters which had +been treasures to Mary Clifford. She took them out with trembling +hands—a withered flower, given to her, oh, so long ago, when she was +little more than a child, and preserved with girlish romance; a little +ring made of hair, which she had worn in her days of betrothal; a little +faded drawing, made by herself at the same period, of her early lover; +and last and most important of all, some letters—not many, but very +tender—the love-letters of her youth. How she had cried over them many a +sad day after her Harry died; how she had gradually forgotten them again +and left them in their safe concealment; how of late she had rather +avoided the place where they were, and shrank from touching the little +desk that contained them; and now, at last, upon the eve of her second +wedding, here they were all spread out before her, to be disposed of +somehow. Mary’s treasures! she had heard them called so—had called them +so herself. What were they now? + +Poor, little, soft, tender-hearted woman! There was no passion in her. +She was in love with all her heart, but it was affectionately, not +passionately, or else she never could have opened that desk. She took +out the flower, and cried, and looked at it; then, with a hasty impulse, +put it softly on the fire, and watched it blaze into sudden ashes, and +cried again, and felt guilty to her heart. “I was such a child,” she +said to herself in her tears, and took a kind of melancholy comfort from +thinking how young she had been when she was first a bride. Then she +looked at her own drawing, which was not the least like him, and thought +with a compunction of her Harry. Poor Harry! All this bright house, all +these dear children, were his as well as hers; but he was put away in +the family vault, poor fellow, and nothing was henceforward to belong to +him in this living world—not even the name he had given her, not her +thoughts, not any of her heart. She cried over that too like the rest. +She put up the ring in a little parcel for Loo—she laid aside the +portrait for little Harry. She tried to indemnify him by making over all +those little mementoes, which it troubled her to look at, to his +children. Then she took up the bundle of yellow letters and timidly +opened one of them, and read a few sentences. There she read of the +young love that was never to die, never to know change. Poor Mary put +them away again with a sob almost of terror, and hastily locked up the +desk, and resolved to put it away somewhere out of sight. She could not +examine any further into those “treasures” which had become ghosts. She +drew her chair to the fire, and shivered in her thoughts. She was a +simple-minded woman, not wise, but moved by every wind of feeling. It +came to her mind just then to recollect how, in her first widowhood, she +had taken comfort from the thought that Harry was near and saw her tears +for him, and knew how faithful her poor heart was. Now that thought was +too much for Mary’s strength. She gave a cry of helpless terror when it +occurred to her. Alas, for that immortality of union which comforts the +heart of grief! What if Harry met her at the very gates of heaven when +she got there, and claimed her, she who was going to be another man’s +bride? Sitting alone in the night, with all the household asleep, and +such thoughts for companions, it was not wonderful if a panic seized +upon Mrs Clifford’s heart. Poor Harry, who had loved her so well, +appeared like a pursuing spectre to the soft little woman. If it was +true that she belonged to him for ever and ever, how could she dare to +love Tom Summerhayes? and if she did not belong to him for ever and +ever—he who had loved her to the end, and had never done anything to +forfeit her affection—what was the hereafter, the heaven where love, it +appeared, could not be immortal? These fancies wrung poor Mary’s heart. +She did not know any answer to make to them. The question put by the +Sadducees nohow answered her case. She who blushed before her children, +how could she ever look Harry in the face? She felt herself an infidel, +trembling and crying over that everlastingness which had once given her +such consolation. That Harry could ever cease to love her, nature +contradicted as impossible. He was in heaven, far off, unseen, fixed in +solemn unchangeableness in all the elevation of love and grief he died +in, never to alter; and she?—— Step by step unconsciously that elevation +of grief and love had died away from her in the changing human days, and +now here she sat weeping, trembling, thinking with awe of Harry, +wondering how he would claim her hereafter, how she could dare name his +name when she was another man’s wife. Poor little trembling soul! She +stole away to bed when she could bear it no longer, and sought refuge in +sleep with the tears still in her eyes, some grand and desperate +resolution of making a sacrifice of herself being in her mind, as was +natural. She had troubled dreams, and woke up quite unrefreshed in the +morning, which was very unlucky that day of all others, because the +lawyers were coming, and all her business affairs were to be settled +before her marriage. However, Mrs Clifford could not remember at her +first waking what it was which had thrown such a cloud upon her; and +when her thoughts of the previous night did return to her mind, they +were neither so intolerable nor so urgent as they had been. In the +daylight, somehow, those gates of heaven, at which Harry might be +standing to claim her, looked a very far way off to the bride of Tom +Summerhayes—there was no such immediate certainty of Harry’s existence +anyhow, or of the kind of interest he might take in her proceedings; and +the philosophy of the question did not recur to her mind with those +puzzling and hopeless speculations. She was a great deal more content to +accept the present and to postpone the future—to let hereafter take care +of itself—than she had been at night. She put away the desk with Harry’s +letters in a dark vacant upper shelf of a bookcase in her own +dressing-room; there, where she could not even see it, it would no +longer witness against her. It was a sunny morning, and the children +came in all fresh and rosy to say their prayers, and there was a note +from Mr Summerhayes on the breakfast-table, naming the hour at which the +law people were to arrive. Mrs Clifford had recovered her colour and her +spirits before they came; she was a little agitated, and looked very +pretty in the commotion of her heart. Hers was a position very peculiar +and interesting, as Mr Gateshead himself, the old family solicitor, +suggested, as he read over the deed she was to sign. He was perfectly +pleased with the arrangements altogether, and said that Mr Summerhayes +had behaved most honourably and in the most gentlemanly way. It was very +clear that _his_ motives were not mercenary. The deed Mrs Clifford had +to sign was one by which Fontanel and all its dependencies was settled +upon her eldest son, she retaining the life-interest in it which her +husband had meant her to have. Mr Summerhayes, who had been brought up +for the bar, had himself advised Mr Gateshead in the drawing up of this +important document. The new bridegroom was anxiously solicitous that the +children should be portioned and the property distributed exactly as the +family agent, who knew poor Clifford’s mind, would have advised him to +settle it; and the deed was irrevocable and framed in the most careful +manner, so that no ingenuity of the law could make it assailable +hereafter. It was so rigid in all its provisions that poor Mary wavered +a little over it. She thought it scarcely fair that _he_ should be shut +out entirely from every interest in all this wealth, which, at the +present moment, belonged absolutely to herself. It was Mr Summerhayes +himself who put, with a certain gentle force, the pen into her hands, +and pointed exactly to the spot where she was to sign. “I have _you_, +Mary,” he said in her ear, as he leant over her to keep the parchment +steady; and Mary Clifford signed away all her power and secured her +children’s rights, with “a smile on her lip and a tear in her eye,” +feeling to her heart the delicious flattery. What she possessed was +nothing to him—he had _her_, and a kingdom could not make him happier. +So said the tone of his whisper, the glance of his eye, and the echo of +her heart. This living Love which stood by her side, securing so +carefully that Harry Clifford’s wealth should go to Harry Clifford’s +heirs, and seeking only herself for its own, completely swallowed up +poor Clifford’s ghost, if that forlorn spirit might by chance be +cognisant of what was passing. Mary remembered no more her qualms and +misgivings; and the prospect before her—now that the very children had +got used to it, had ceased either to oppose or to stand by her, and had +fallen into natural excitement about the approaching festivities, the +guests who were to be at Fontanel, the new dresses, the great event +about to happen—looked as bright as the glowing day. + + + CHAPTER V.—THE MARRIAGE. + +Fontanel received a considerable party of guests for the marriage. Miss +Laura and Miss Lydia, who were to be at the head of affairs while the +new Mrs Summerhayes was absent on her wedding tour, arrived two days +before, that they might get into the ways of the place, and know what +was required of them, which was not very much, for Mary was but a +languid housekeeper. Then there were two aunts, an uncle, and some +cousins of Mrs Clifford, none of whom in the least approved of the +match, though decorum and curiosity and kindness prompted them to +countenance poor Mary in her foolishness, notwithstanding their general +surprise, like Miss Harwood, that she had not the sense to know when she +was well off. Then there was Charley from Eton, who had grown so much +lately, that his mother blushed more than ever when he kissed her and +said something kind about her marriage. These were not pleasant days for +poor Mrs Clifford. She knew in her heart that nobody particularly +approved of her, not even Tom’s sisters—that people were saying it was +just what was to be expected, and that a woman left at her age with so +much property in her hands was sure to make a fool of herself. She knew +that the ladies when they got together had little conversations over +her—that one wondered why she could not make herself happy with these +dear children, and another with this fine place—and that a third mused +what poor Mr Clifford would have said could he have known. Poor Mary was +very thankful when the day dawned on her wedding-morning—she was glad, +as brides seldom are, of the arrival of the fated moment which was to +place things beyond the reach of censure or criticism, and relieve her +from her purgatory. The Rector of Summerhayes had not been called on to +do that piece of duty. The bridegroom luckily had a friend whose +privilege it was; and still more luckily there was a little old disused +church within the grounds of Fontanel in which the ceremony was to be +performed, without the necessity of encountering the gaze and remarks of +the village. It was not intended to be a pretty wedding or to put on +those colours of joy which become the espousals of youth. Mingled and +complicated, as are the thoughts of middle age, were the feelings of the +two who stood side by side before the bare rural altar. The bridegroom +was slight and tall in figure, with a careless languid air, through +which occasionally a little gleam of excitement sparkled. If you watched +him closely you could see that his mind was no way absorbed in the +ceremonial of his marriage. The quick sudden glance here and there under +his eyelids, of those cold but clear grey eyes, turned inquiringly to +everything within his range. He read in the looks of the clergyman, even +while he pronounced the nuptial blessing, what his opinion was of the +entire transaction. He penetrated the mask of propriety in which the +bride’s relations concealed their feelings—he investigated with +oft-repeated momentary glances the face of Charley, who stood in his +Etonian certainty of manhood, premature but not precocious, near his +mother’s side. Mr Summerhayes even scanned, when all was over, the +downcast countenance of Loo, who stood behind, watching with stout +endurance, and resolute not to cry during the entire ceremony. What was +the meaning which lay in those quick furtive darts of the bridegroom’s +eye it was impossible to say; his closest friend could not have +elucidated this strange secret by-play, of which nobody in the company +was conscious, except, perhaps, one child; but one thing it proved at +any rate, that his heart at this special moment was not engrossed, to +the exclusion of everything else, by his bride. + +Mary was much less mistress of herself. She cried quietly under her veil +as she stood and listened to the familiar words. She repeated those that +fell to her with a little shiver. In her heart she could not but feel +what a terrible act she was completing as she vowed her love and +obedience over again, and separated her future from her past. But Mary, +with her downcast eyes, was insensible to everybody’s opinion at that +moment. Had she been standing in a wilderness she could not have felt +more isolated. She was conscious only of her new husband by her side—of +an indistinct figure before her—of God above and around, a kind of awful +shadow looking on. Mr Summerhayes was aware of her tears, and they moved +him so that his colour heightened involuntarily, and he pressed her hand +with a warning pressure when it came to that part of the ceremony. But +Mary herself was not aware that she was crying till she felt this touch +of remonstrance, which startled her back into consciousness. Such was +this marriage, at which, as at other marriages, people looked on with +various shades of sympathy and criticism, and which, with all its +concealed terrors and outward rejoicing, was the free act of hearts +uncoerced and acting only at their own pleasure—a free act, suggested by +no third party, unless, perhaps, it might happen to be a certain grim +inflexible Fate who, if the reins are but yielded to her for a moment, +pursues her victim through a throng of inevitable consequences. But +perhaps, when a woman is being married like Mary Clifford, it is a kind +of comfort to her to feel as if she could not help herself, rather than +to know that she is entering all these new dangers voluntarily, and in +obedience to nobody’s will but her own. + +“Well, I am sure, I wish them every comfort in life,” said Miss Harwood, +as she stood leaning on her brother’s arm at the hall door of Fontanel, +watching the carriage drive off which contained the happy pair. “She +can’t feel much like a bride, poor thing, leaving all these children +behind her. I am sure I wish her every happiness. I hope she’ll never +live to repent it,” said Miss Harwood, with a sigh. + +“Don’t be spiteful,” said the Rector. “This is not a time for such +ill-omened wishes. It’s a very suitable match, and I wish them joy.” + +“Oh, Mr Harwood,” said Miss Laura, taking up her position at the +Rector’s other side, thus effecting a natural separation from Mary’s +relations, who were comparing sentiments a little apart from the +Summerhayes party—“a suitable match! when dear Tom is well known to +represent the oldest family in the county, and might have married +anybody—not to say a word against dear Mary, who is our sister now, and +such a sweet creature. But oh, Mr Harwood,” cried Miss Lydia, who had +interposed, as usual, “to talk of a suitable match!” + +“There are no suitable matches nowadays. I don’t believe in ’em, by +Jove!” said Major Aldborough, who, with eyes slightly reddened by +champagne, was watching the carriage just then disappearing down the +avenue. + +“But there might be, Major,” said Miss Lydia, so softly that her sister +could not take up the meek remark. + +The Major only answered “By Jove!” under his breath. He was startled by +the close vicinity—the gentle look—the mild suggestion. He moved a +little away in a momentary panic. There was never any telling, as he +said to himself, what these women might mean. + +“It is so strange to be left in charge of the house,” said Miss Laura, +“it gives one such a funny feeling. I don’t know how in the world we +shall do with all the responsibility; but dear Mary insisted upon it, +you know—though I am sure Mrs Tansey would have been much more suitable +for the head of the table than one of us, who are so inexperienced,” +cried Miss Lydia; “but dear Mary thought it best for the children’s +sake. I hope, dear Mrs Tansey, you don’t mind being our guest,” +proceeded the sisterly duet; “dear Mary thought it of such importance +that the children should get used to us—though they know us perfectly +well, still things are all so different; though otherwise, of course, +she would so much have preferred you.” + +“Oh, pray, don’t think it necessary to apologise for my niece to me, +Miss Summerhayes,” said the offended aunt. “Mary has consulted her own +inclinations, and so long as she is happy, that is all _we_ can +_possibly_ want of her. I think she is _quite_ right to make friends, if +she can, in her new family. She knows she can always calculate upon _us_ +if she ever wants any service,” added the bride’s relation, with a +slight heightening of colour and the ghost of a curtsy. The Miss +Summerhayes were not unequal to the emergency. + +“We all know how much poor dear Mary is liked among her own friends,” +cried Miss Lydia. “Your dear girls were so fond of her last year when +they spent such a long time at Fontanel; and dear Mary has such a taste +in presents,” said Miss Laura, coming in so eagerly that she began out +of breath. “We have gone shopping with her often when she was buying her +little souvenirs. I hope you don’t think it will make any difference now +she is married again. She is _so_ affectionate; but as for wanting +services from anybody, that is very unlikely,” resumed the elder sister, +“now she has dear Tom. Dear Tom is so very devoted,” said Miss Laura, +breaking in headlong. “You would think she was only eighteen to see all +the attention he pays her. It is quite sweet to see them, like two +turtle-doves.” + +Such being the conversation that succeeded immediately upon the +departure of the bridal pair, it is not to be supposed that the +dinner-table was spread with a very joyful feast, or that the evening +was spent in much happiness. Mary’s relations, who had up to this time +felt themselves much at ease at Fontanel, kept greatly by themselves +during the remainder of the wedding-day. Their occasional minglings with +the Summerhayes party called forth bursts of smart dialogue, more +exciting than amiable, and the opposing sides contended much for the +notice of Loo and the other children, when they came down-stairs in +their new dresses after dinner. It made little Loo’s heart sick to feel +herself enfolded in the embraces of Miss Lydia and Laura on one side, +and then to be talked to and admonished by Aunt Tansey on the other, who +hoped she would be a good girl, and a great comfort to her poor mother. +The children could not tell what to make of the aspect of affairs. Mamma +gone, who was the sun and centre of the domestic world, and already a +new rule and vague possibilities of change in the startled house. +Down-stairs among the servants, though the means of merry-making were +plentiful, this threatening cloud was even more apparent. A new master, +known to like “his own way,” was an alarming shadow impending over the +little community hitherto mildly and liberally governed by the mistress, +whom her servants could scarcely forgive for the step she had taken. +“With five lovely children and every blessin’ as this world could +afford,” as the housekeeper said, shaking her troubled head. The new +husband by no means ranked among the blessings of Providence to the +mistress of Fontanel in anybody’s judgment, and nowhere was Mary’s rash +act resented more warmly than in the servants’ hall. + +“But, Loo,” said Etonian Charley, next morning, when Aunt Tansey and all +her belongings had left Fontanel, and everything had fallen under the +restless sway of the Miss Summerhayes, “I’m not going to put up with all +this. You said we were to stand up for mamma; you mean we are only to +pretend to stand up for mamma, you little humbug. Now that’s not my +meaning,” said the heir of Fontanel. “I’m not going to make-believe that +I think she’s done right, when I don’t. I am going to swallow cousin Tom +right out,” cried the boy, not without a little flush on his face. “It’s +a little awkward, to be sure, to know what to call him—but look here, +Loo—I mean to stand by my mother without any humbug. I mean to think +she’s done the very best for us all, and for herself too; and if she +don’t think the same when she comes back, I’ll try to make her; and if +you look black, as you’re looking, you are not the little brick I took +you for, and I won’t have anything more to do with you, Loo.” + +“Oh, Charley, I am not half so good as you are,” cried the admiring +little sister, looking up to him with tearful eyes. Charley’s resolution +acted like a charm upon the house in general; and so, with a gradually +improving temper, though much pressed and fretted by Miss Laura and Miss +Lydia, the nursery and the servants’ hall, and all the dependencies of +Fontanel, waited for the advent of the new master and the return of Mrs +Summerhayes. + + + + + AN ENGLISH VILLAGE—IN FRENCH.[1] + + +The old pictures of village life in England will hardly suit for these +modern times. The pleasant little social circle which either existed, or +more often was imagined to exist, as in Miss Austen’s charming fictions, +in the large well-to-do country village, is to be found there no longer. +No one condescends in these days to live in the country, unless he can +either do so, or affect to do so, more or less _en grand seigneur_. A +change has passed over ‘Our Village,’ even since Mary Russell Mitford so +admirably sketched it. The half-pay naval lieutenant or army captain (if +any such survive) has retired into the back street of a cheap +watering-place, not to the improvement either of his position or his +happiness. The village surgeon is no longer an oracle; railways have +brought “the first advice” (at any rate, in the county town) within the +reach of almost all his patients; and he has either disappeared +altogether, or, if he still exists as the “Union Doctor,” badly paid and +little respected, he is seldom now a gentleman. Village lawyers—happily +or unhappily—are become things unknown: and as for any gentleman’s +family of independent but moderate means condescending to that kind of +rural seclusion, it is unheard of. If there is any educated resident in +any country village not fixed there by some local interest or +occupation, he is apt to have something suspicious about his character +or antecedents—to be a refugee from his lawful creditors, or his lawful +wife, or something of that sort. + +So that English village life now resolves itself mainly into that of the +parson; for the squire, even if he be resident, scarcely forms part of +the same social circle. And as to the rest, between the university +graduate, of more or less refinement and education, and the opulent +farmer such as he is at present, there lies a gulf which no fancy can +exaggerate, and which the best intentions on both sides fail to bridge +over. Where village spires stand thick together, where the majority of +the rectors or vicars are men of the same way of thinking, and where it +is the fashion of the country to be social, there is a good deal of +pleasant intercourse, no doubt, between the parsons’ families, and as +much “society,” in the real if not in the conventional sense, as is +needful to keep the higher elements of humanity from stagnating; but +where parishes spread far and wide over a poor or thinly-populated +district, or, worse still, where religious sectarianism reckons its +clergy into “High” and “Low,” and the Rector of A. shakes his head and +lifts his eyebrows when any allusion is made to the Vicar of B.—there, +the man whose lot has been cast in a country parsonage had need have +abundant resources within himself, and be supremely indifferent to the +stir of human interests without. He will, in many cases, have almost as +far to ride in search of a congenial neighbour as though he were in the +bush of Australia; he will find something like the solitude of the old +monastery, without the chance of its peace and quietness. + +Not that such a life is dull or uninteresting, by any means, unless in +the unfortunate case of the man finding no interest in his duties. One +of this world’s many compensations is, that the busy man, be he what +else he may, is never dull, and seldom discontented. So it is, almost +always, in the country parsonage; without claiming any high standard of +zeal or self-devotion for its occupants, there is probably at least as +much quiet enjoyment, and as little idle melancholy or fretful +discontent, to be found among them, as among any other class of educated +men. + +Still, it is a life which it would be very difficult for a foreigner to +appreciate or understand. The relation of the English country rector to +his villagers is totally unlike that of the Lutheran or Roman Catholic +priest. Not claiming—or at least not being in a position to +maintain—anything like the amount of spiritual authority which is +exercised by the pastor under both these other systems, he wields, in +point of fact, an amount of influence superior to either. He cannot +command the servile and terrified obedience in externals which is often +paid by the Irish and Italian peasant to his spiritual guide; but he +holds a moral power over his parishioners—even over those who +professedly decline his ministrations—of the extent of which neither he +nor they are always conscious, but to the reality of which the enemies +of the Established Church in England are beginning to awake. + +The reading world has perhaps been rather over-supplied, of late years, +with novelettes in which the village parson, with some of the very white +or very black sheep of his flock, have been made to walk and talk more +or less naturally for their amusement and edification; but the sight of +a little French book on the subject struck us as something new. It is +very desirable that our good friends across the Channel should know +something about our ways of going on at home; and that not only in the +public life of large towns, or on the highways of travel and commerce, +but in our country villages and rural districts. But French attempts at +English domestic sketches have not, on the whole, been successful. It +is, indeed, most difficult for a foreign visitor to draw pictures of +society in any country which would pass muster under the critical +examination of a native. We took up this ‘Vie de Village en Angleterre’ +with some notion of being amused by so familiar a subject treated by a +Frenchman; but we soon found we were in very safe hands. The writer +knows us well, and describes us admirably, very much as we are; the +foreign element is just strong enough to be occasionally amusing, but +never in any way ridiculous; and we should be as much surprised at the +correctness of the writer’s observation as charmed with the candour and +good taste of the little volume, if we had not heard it credibly +whispered that, although written for French readers (and in undeniable +French), it may be claimed as the production of an English pen. + +Whatever may be the secret of the authorship, the little book will repay +the reader of either nation. It is written in the person of a political +refugee, who, armed with one or two good introductions, comes to pass a +period of exile in England. While previously travelling in Switzerland, +he has made acquaintance with a Mr Norris, an energetic country parson +of the modern “muscular” type. He it is who persuades the wanderer to +study in detail, by personal observation, that “inner life” of England +which, he has already learnt to believe, and rightly, forms and shapes, +more than anything else, her national and political character. Hitherto, +as he confesses to his new acquaintance, the coldness and reserve of +such English as he has met with have rather frightened him; yet he has +always admired in them that _solidarité_—which we will not attempt to +translate. The hostility between the labouring classes in France and +those above them has always appeared to him the great knot of political +difficulties in that country—a source of more danger to real liberty and +security than any other national evil. + +He determines, therefore, to see and study this domestic character of +England for himself—“not in her political institutions, which we +Frenchmen have been too much accused of wishing to copy, but in that +social life which may very possibly explain the secret of her strength +and her liberty.”—(P. 22.) + +It was not his first visit to London; and, arriving in the month of +March, he finds the climate as bad, and the great city as dingy and +dirty, as ever. He does not appear to have noticed our painful efforts +to consume our own smoke, or our ambitious designs in modern street +architecture. On the other hand, he mercifully ignores—if he saw it—our +Great Exhibition. The crowded gin-palaces, and the state of the +Haymarket by night, disgust him, as well they might; and he escapes from +the murky Babylon, as soon as he has taken a few lessons to improve his +colloquial English, to pay the promised visit to his friend Mr Norris at +his parsonage at Kingsford; stopping on his way to deliver a letter of +introduction to an English countess, an old friend of his family, who +has a seat close to Lynmere, a sort of pet village, where the ornamented +cottages form a portion of the park scenery. + +In his walk from the station, he makes the acquaintance of a “Madame +Jones,” whose cottage, with its wooden paling and scarlet geraniums, +abutting on the pleasant common, has its door invitingly open. He pauses +to admire the little English picture as he passes by. Good Mrs Jones +observes him, and begs him to walk in; partly, we must hope (and we +trust all foreign readers will believe), out of genuine English +hospitality—though we doubt if all village dames in Surrey would take +kindly to a Frenchman on the tramp—partly, it must be confessed, with +the British female’s natural eye to business. “Perhaps Monsieur was +looking out for a ‘_petit logement_?’” For Mrs Jones has two rooms to +let; and even a foreigner’s money, paid punctually, is not to be +despised. Monsieur was looking out for nothing of the kind, but he takes +the rooms forthwith; and indeed any modest-minded gentleman, French or +English, who wanted country board and lodging on a breezy common in +Surrey, could not have done better. Here is what our traveller gets for +twenty-two shillings a-week; we only hope it will stop the mouths of all +foreigners who rail at the dearness of English living, when they read +here the terms on which a _petit logement_ may be found in a pleasant +situation in the home counties—two rooms, “fresh and clean,” comfortably +furnished (with a picture of the Queen and a pot of musk into the +bargain), and board as follows:— + + + “For breakfast she gave me tea with good milk, excellent + bread-and-butter, accompanied either by a rasher of broiled bacon or + fresh eggs. For dinner there were often ‘_ragouts avec force oignons_’ + (Irish stew?), boiled mutton, or sometimes a beef-steak ‘_très-dur_,’ + potatoes and boiled cabbage, with a glass of good beer and a bit of + cheese. No dessert, but occasionally a pudding. On Sundays, roast-beef + and plum-pudding were apparently the rule without exception, for they + never failed to appear. The tea in the evening was much the same as + the breakfast. If I had wished for supper, I might have had cold meat, + bread, a lettuce, and a glass of beer.” + + +If Mrs Jones be not as entirely fictitious as Mrs Harris, and would +enclose us a few cards, we think we could undertake that her lodgings +(with a countess and a pet village, too, close by) should not be +untenanted for a week in summertime. We feel sure, however, that the +good lady is _not_ a creature of mere imagination: when we read the +description of her, we recall her as an old acquaintance, though we +cannot remember her address:— + + + “As for this good woman’s personal appearance, she had nothing + attractive about her except her scrupulous cleanliness. Her age + belonged to that mysterious epoch comprised between forty and sixty. + She had an intelligent countenance; but what was most marked about her + was a slightly military air, and a black silk bonnet which, planted on + the top of her head, tilted forward over her face, and usually + concealed half of it. The two strings were carefully pinned back over + the brim, and the ends fluttered on each side the bonnet, like the + plume of a _chasseur de Vincennes_. That bonnet, she never left it off + for a moment; and my indiscreet imagination went so far as to + speculate what could possibly become of it at night.... Though I had + begged her to consider herself absolute mistress in all domestic + matters—and though, moreover, I should have found considerable + difficulty in ordering my own dinner—she never failed to come in every + morning at breakfast-time ‘for orders,’ as she called it. It was a + little ruse of hers to secure a moment for the active exercise of her + somewhat gossiping tongue. I was enabled to endure the torrent of + words of which good Mrs Jones disburdened herself on such occasions + the more philosophically, inasmuch as she was nowise exacting in the + matter of an answer, and now and then gave me some interesting bits of + information.” + + +The contrast which follows is drawn from a shrewd observation of +national characteristics on both sides of the Channel:— + + + “This respectable dame possessed in a high degree the good qualities + and the defects of her class of Englishwomen. In France, the manners + of women of her order are full of expansion and sympathy; and a small + farmer’s wife, however ignorant she may be, will always find means to + interest you in her affairs, and to enter into yours. In England, on + the contrary, with all her gossiping upon trifling subjects, she will + maintain the strictest reserve, so far as you are concerned, upon + matters of any importance. She serves you much better than a + Frenchwoman would, because she looks upon you in the light of a + master—a guest whose rank and character she makes the most of, because + that rank and character raise her in her own estimation; but it is + only in some very exceptional case that she will talk to you about + anything which touches her personally, or that she will venture to + confess that she is thinking about your concerns—that would be, in her + eyes, a breach of proper respect. + + “This is the peculiar feature in the relations between the different + classes of society in England. Society there is profoundly + aristocratic; there is no tradesman, be he ever so professed a + Radical, who does not become a greater man in his own eyes by + receiving the most commonplace act of courtesy from a lord; no servant + who does not feel an additional satisfaction in waiting on a master + whose manners have a touch of haughtiness, because such manners strike + him as a mark of superiority. It is just as Rousseau says: ‘Clara + consoles herself for being thought less of than Julia, from the + consideration that, without Julia, she would be thought even less of + than she is.’ The singular feature is, that this kind of humility, + which would seem revolting to us in France, is met with in England + amongst precisely those persons who are remarkable for their moral + qualities and for their self-respect. It is because in them this + deference becomes a sort of courtesy, a social tact, of which only a + gentleman can understand all the niceties—which, besides, implies in + their case nothing like servility—the respect paid to superiors in + rank is kept within the limits of the respect due to themselves. This + peculiarity in English manners struck me the more forcibly, because it + offers such a remarkable contrast to what goes on among ourselves.” + + +There follows, at some length, a truthful and well-written exposition of +the healthful influence exercised upon a nation by an aristocracy like +that of England—which we must not stop to quote. ‘_Revenons_‘—as the +author writes, asking pardon for so long a digression—‘_Revenons à +Madame Jones_.’ + +That excellent landlady is careful not only of the diet and other +creature-comforts of her new lodger, but of his moral and religious +wellbeing also. A week of wet weather—which the foreign visitor finds +sufficiently _triste_—is succeeded by a lovely Sunday morning. The +Frenchman sallies out after breakfast for a morning walk, with his book +under his arm—we are sorry to say it was a ‘Tacitus’—with the intention, +we are left to suppose, of worshipping nature on the common. But Mrs +Jones, though totally innocent as to her lodger’s heretical intentions, +takes care to lead him in the way that he should go. + + + “‘Church is at eleven,’ Mrs Jones called out to me, not doubting for + an instant that I should go there. I went out; she followed me close, + locked all the doors, and, stopping for a moment at the cottage next + door to call for a neighbour, continued her way. I was taking another + path, but was very soon arrested by the hurried approach of Mrs Jones, + who, fancying I had mistaken my way, came after me to show me the road + to church. Such perseverance on her part made it evident that I should + risk the loss of her good opinion if I did not profit by her + instructions; so I walked down the hill with her by a road which wound + between broad verges of green turf overshadowed by lofty trees.” + + +Thus fairly captured and led to church in triumph, his behaviour there +was on the whole very decorous. The impression likely to be made on the +mind of an intelligent and well-disposed foreigner by the simple and yet +impressive service in a well-ordered village church is very nicely +described. It is true that Mrs Jones’s prisoner, according to his own +account, mingles with the very proper reflections natural to such a +place “those inspired by the volume of Tacitus which he held open before +him for decency’s sake” (and which, we fear, must have imposed itself +upon the good lady as a French prayer-book); a little touch which, +whether written by a Frenchman or not, and whether meant for truth or +satire, is very French indeed. He finds time also to notice the features +of the building itself, and its arrangements. The “tribune” in the +gallery where the Countess performs her devotions, and the high +enclosure with drawn curtains—“a sort of _petit salon_”—which protects +the family of Mr Mason, the squire, from the more vulgar worshippers, do +not strike the visitor, we rejoice to say, as happy illustrations of the +aristocratic feeling in Englishmen; and it is evidently with a quiet +satisfaction that he learns subsequently that “_puséisme_” is trying to +do away with such distinctions. + +An invitation to dinner from the Countess gives him at once the _entrée_ +to the best society in Lynmere and its neighbourhood. He finds his first +English dinner-party a very dull affair; but he was surely peculiarly +unfortunate in his company, if we are to take his account of the +after-dinner conversation amongst the gentlemen: “At the end of a short +time, two of the guests were asleep, and I would willingly have followed +their example.” The remarks which follow, however, touch with more truth +upon one of the defects in our social intercourse:— + + + “These dinners of ceremony (and there are scarcely any other kind of + entertainments in the country amongst the higher classes) take place + between neighbours, usually about twice in the year: scarcely any one + except the clergyman enjoys the privilege of being received with less + of etiquette. It follows that it is very possible to pass one’s life + for ten years in the same spot, without having any really intimate + association with any one of one’s neighbours. There are very few + English people who do not regret it. Yet such is the despotism of + custom, that it is rare to find any family which dreams of freeing + itself from the trammels of this etiquette.” + + +Here and there, of late, the links of this social despotism, under which +we have groaned so long, show symptoms of giving way. The advance of +fashion has done good service in one respect, that the modern service _à +la Russe_, adopted in all good houses, has struck a decisive blow at the +old English heavy dinner; and just as the fashion has long died out of +pressing one’s guests to eat more than they wish, so the fashion is +coming in of not thinking it necessary to put upon the table three times +more than can by any possibility be eaten. When small dinners become +“the thing” even amongst the great people, there is hope that their +lesser imitators will follow the example. And whenever the mistresses of +small families will learn that good and careful cookery is quite as +cheap as bad, and much more wholesome, and will condescend to go back +not only to their great-grandmothers’ hoops, but to their household +receipt-books, they may venture to invite their personal friends without +compunction to a pleasant family-dinner, to the great furtherance of +real sociability, and get rid for ever of those annual or biennial +festivals which are a burden to the weary souls of guests and +entertainers. + +The foreign visitor becomes, in a very short time, established on a +footing of intimacy with the family of Mr Mason, a magistrate and landed +proprietor residing in the parish, in whose household Mrs Jones has +formerly lived as nurse. The introduction through the Countess on the +one part, and on the other the warm eulogies of good Mrs Jones (who is +never tired of sounding the praises of her old master and the young +ladies whom she has brought up), may serve in some degree to explain the +somewhat rapid adoption of “Monsieur” as a family friend into the +thrice-guarded circle of an English household. On his part, indeed, we +soon discover quite a sufficient attraction. There is a pale pensive +sentimental “Miss Mary,” quite the sort of young lady, we should say, to +take the fancy of a romantic Frenchman in exile; but as she does not +happen to take ours especially, we confess to have found no particular +interest in this new version of ‘Love in a Village,’ and shall leave our +younger readers to enjoy the romance of the little book for themselves, +without forestalling, even by a single hint, its course or its +conclusion. So far as relates to Monsieur himself, we repeat, we can +quite understand how readily he responded to the warm adoption of his +new English friends. + + + “Mr Mason consulted me about his son’s studies, Mrs Mason confided to + me her anxieties as the mother of a family; and Mary—whose ardent and + poetic soul felt the need of an intellectual sympathy which failed her + in her own family—threw into her conversation with me an openness and + vivacity which surprised her relatives.” + + +Nothing of the sort surprises us. What we were rather surprised at was, +that Mr Mason _père_, a grave county dignitary and practical man of +business, should have taken to his bosom, in this ardent and gushing +fashion, the most agreeable, most intellectual, and most amiable +foreigner that ever lived. At first we thought it a mistake—a patent +defect and improbability in an otherwise sensible and natural book. The +author’s casual attempt to account for it by the fact that Mr Mason was +fond of billiards and of backgammon, and found in his new acquaintance +an idle man generally ready to play a game, does not in the least +harmonise with the usual character and habits of country gentlemen past +sixty, or of Mr Mason in particular. But when we read that this +excellent individual, like so many others of his class, has gone largely +into turnips—and that his French visitor, wishing to know all about +English country life, and knowing that such a life is nothing without +turnips, determined, amongst his other travelling studies, to study an +English model farm, and, when his host proposed a visit to that beloved +establishment, accepted the invitation with “_empressement_,” and +listened for hours to bucolic talk with “_un grand interest_,”—then we +no longer wonder for an instant at the eternal friendship which the +English member of the “Royal Agricultural” suddenly and silently vowed +to his guest. Long and painful experience of visits paid to these +excellent people in the country—reminiscences of the inevitable walk +over ploughed fields—the plunging into long dark galleries where +unfortunate beasts were immured for life to be turned into beef, a +process which should be mercifully hidden from the eyes of every good +Christian—the yawns unsuccessfully stifled—the remarks answered at +random—the senseless questions desperately volunteered out of politeness +on the visitor’s part, betraying the depth of his incapacity and +ignorance;—these must rise before many a reader’s mind as well as our +own, and make them feel what a treasure the scientific agriculturist had +found in the inquiring Frenchman, who walked and talked and listened, +not only without a complaint or a yawn, but positively because he liked +it. Enterprising foreigners have been said to have tried to make their +way into English country society, before now, through the introduction +of the hunting-field, not always with success; perhaps they may be +inclined to take a hint from this little book, and, in quiet family +cases, try the turnips. + +The visits to Mr Mason’s farm-cottages give the traveller the +opportunity of drawing a contrast between the habits and aspirations of +agricultural labourers in the two countries:— + + + “That passion for becoming proprietors, so widely spread in our own + country districts, is unknown, and probably will long continue so, + amongst the agricultural classes in England. The example of Ireland + [it might have been added, of Wales], where the land has been very + much subdivided, and where the population which maintains itself on it + has become excessive, has strengthened the opinion amongst large + landed proprietors in England as to the evil effects of small + holdings. I think I scarcely exaggerate when I say that certainly, in + the southern counties of England, a peasant possessing an acre of land + would be a rarity. Probably it is to this impossibility of becoming + small proprietors that we must attribute the taste which the labouring + classes in England show for ornamenting their houses. If a working man + has saved any money, he will employ it in buying a set of furniture, + and making his cottage look gay; whereas, in France, he would have + laid it aside in the hope of acquiring a bit of land; so that nothing + can be more different than the wretched cabins of our own rural + districts and the cottage of an English labourer, with its many little + appliances of comfort and even luxury. In general the English peasant + lives much less sparingly, and spends upon his meal twice as much as + the French: it is true that the climate requires a more substantial + style of diet.” + + +These observations would have been more strictly true if they had been +made a few years ago. Within that time the passion for property has +sprung up not only amongst those who call themselves “operatives” +(journeymen weavers, shoemakers, &c.), but even, to a certain extent, +amongst farm-labourers. Recent alterations in the laws of partnership +have encouraged what are called “co-operative societies,” who not only +open “stores” for the sale of all the necessaries of life, on the +joint-stock principle of division of profits, but build cottages which, +by certain arrangements, may become the property of the tenant. A whole +village has just been built in Yorkshire, on this principle of the +tenants becoming eventually the landlords. Not only this, but the same +desire for independence—an excellent feeling in itself—is leading the +same class to purchase cottage property whenever it comes into the +market. If this ambition to become a purchaser were confined to a desire +upon every man’s part to feel himself absolute master of the home he +lived in, then, whatever large proprietors or able political economists +might have to say, it would be an object which would deserve the very +highest respect. But, unfortunately, the feeling is not altogether that +of desiring to live in peace under one’s own vine and fig-tree: it is +the wish to have a tenement to let out to others. It is comparatively +seldom that a small piece of land, suited to the sum at such a +purchaser’s command, is thrown into the market. Cottages, on the other +hand, are continually advertised for sale; the working-man, eager to +secure his bit of real property, gives for them a sum far beyond their +value—a sum which the capitalist or large proprietor will not give; and +in order to make his purchase pay, he either proceeds at once to divide +a comfortable dwelling into two, or raises the rent upon his more needy +tenant. The evil consequences are twofold; the neighbouring landowner, +who ought to have the cottages for his own labourers, who would keep +them in good repair, and let them at moderate rents, has been driven out +of the market; and either a lower class of tenant, continually changing +and being “sold up,” is introduced; or the honest labourer is compelled +to pay to this new landlord of his own class a rent out of all +proportion to the accommodation supplied him. + +It is to be hoped that this growing evil (for evil it is) may be met by +the increased liberality of landed proprietors in building good and +sufficient cottages for the labourers on their own estates. In the case +of the humbler artisans, in towns especially, one does not see the +remedy except in the questionable shape of legislative restrictions. + +But we have almost forgotten our foreign exile’s travelling +acquaintance, Mr Norris, the hearty and genial English clergyman at +whose invitation he first set himself to study English life. Before +finally taking up his quarters at Lynmere, he has paid the promised +visit to his friend in his parsonage at Kingsford; “a pretty Gothic +_chateau_,” furnished with the taste of a gentleman and a scholar; a +residence whose somewhat luxurious belongings, its ample library, and +the well-chosen prints which grace its walls, when contrasted in the +writer’s mind with the humble abode of the French village _curé_, give +rise to reflections “not wholly to the disadvantage of the latter.” We, +on the other hand, must warn any foreign reader who may draw the +contrast for himself, that Kingsford Parsonage is a very exceptional +case indeed. Mr Norris is discovered, somewhat to his French visitor’s +surprise, clad in “a strange costume of white flannel,” not altogether +sacerdotal; “_Je suis habillé en cricketer_,” is the parson’s +explanation. The fact is, he has just been playing cricket with his +pupils, half-a-dozen young men in preparation for the Universities. The +simple and orderly habits of the household, the breakfast at eight, the +dinner at one, the kindly intercourse between the tutor and his pupils, +and the prosperity of a well-ordered village under an energetic pastor, +are well described, and will give our French neighbours a very fair idea +of such a life. A little, a very little “_triste_,” our visitor finds +it, this English rural life, with its rich green meadows and grey sky, +and slowly-winding river, half hidden by its banks. One needs, he +considers, in order to find happiness in such scenes, a hearty love for +simple nature, and a heart “warmed with the sentiment of duty +fulfilled;” in short, he is of Dr Johnson’s opinion, though he puts it +into much more complimentary language—that “those who are fond of the +country are fit to live in the country.” + +But if we cannot allow our French friends to imagine that all English +country clergymen have their lot cast in the pleasant places of +Kingsford and Lynmere, still less, we fear, must they consider them (or +their wives) such wonderful economists as, like Mr Norris, to maintain +all the quiet elegancies of a gentleman’s establishment in a handsome +Gothic chateau (and to travel in Switzerland besides), upon an +ecclesiastical income scarcely exceeding, after all necessary +deductions, two hundred pounds a-year. True, Mr Norris takes pupils and +writes for reviews—highly respectable vocations, and profitable enough +in some hands, but scarcely open to the majority of his brethren, and +not safe to be depended upon, as a supplementary income, by young +clergymen on small preferments who may feel no vocation for celibacy. Mr +Norris, indeed, is peculiarly favoured in many respects as regards money +matters; for he has been fortunate enough to have enjoyed an exhibition +at Oxford in days when the word “exhibition” (as we are informed in a +note) meant “a gratuitous admission to the University.” Here we are +certainly stepping out of the ground of real English life, where the +writer has so pleasantly guided us, into a highly imaginative state of +things. It would have been a noble boast, indeed, for us to have made to +foreigners, if it could have been made truly, that Oxford, out of her +splendid endowments, offered, even occasionally, “gratuitous admissions” +to poor and deserving scholars. It was what the best of her founders and +benefactors intended and desired—what they thought they had secured for +ever by the most stringent and solemn enactments; but what, unhappily, +the calm wisdom of the University itself has been as far from carrying +out as the busy sweeping of a Reform Commission. + +The foreign visitor is naturally very much impressed by an English +cricket-match. The puzzled admiration which possesses him on the +occasion of his “assisting” at a “_fête du cricket_” is very amusingly +expressed. Throughout all his honest admiration of the English +character, there peeps out a confession that this one peculiar habit of +the animal is what he has failed to account for or comprehend. He tries +to philosophise on the thing; and, like other philosophical inquirers +when they get hold of facts which puzzle them, he feels bound to present +his readers with a theory of cause and effect which is evidently as +unsatisfactory to himself as to them. He falls back for an explanation +on that tendency to “solidarity” in the English temperament which he has +admired before. + + + “The explanation of the great popularity of the game of cricket is + that, being always a challenge between two rival bodies, it produces + emulation and excites that spirit of party which, say what we will, is + one of the essential stimulants of public life, since in order to + identify one’s self with one’s party one must make a sacrifice to a + certain extent of one’s individuality. The game of cricket requires + eleven persons on each side, and each of the players feels that he is + consolidated (_solidaire_) with his comrades, in defeat as well as in + victory.... That which makes the charm of the game is, above all, the + _solidarity_ which exists between the players.” + + +This is a very pretty theory, but scarcely the true one. In the +public-school matches, no doubt, and in some matches between +neighbouring villages, the _esprit de corps_ goes for much; but, as a +rule, we fear the cricketer is a much more selfish animal. His ambition +is above all things to make a good score, and to appear in ‘Bell’s Life’ +with a double figure to his name. Just as the hunting man, so that he +himself can get “a good place,” cares exceedingly little for the general +result of the day’s sport; so the batsman at Lord’s, so long as he makes +a good innings, or the bowler so long as he “takes wickets” enough to +make a respectable figure on the score, thinks extremely little, we are +sorry to say, of “solidarity.” Whether the match is won or lost is of as +little comparative importance as whether the fox is killed or gets away. +We notice the difference, because it is a great pity it should be so. +The Frenchman’s principle is by far the finer one; and the gradual +increase of this intense self-interest in the cricket-field is going far +to nullify the other good effects of the game as a national amusement. +One reason why the matches between the public schools are watched with +such interest by all spectators is, that the boys do really feel and +show that identification of one’s self with one’s party which the author +so much respects; the Harrow captain is really much more anxious that +Harrow should beat Eton, than that he himself should get a higher score +than Jones or Thompson of his own eleven; and the enthusiastic chairing +of the hero of the day is not, as he knows, a personal ovation to the +player, as to a mere exhibition of personal skill, but to his having +maintained the honour of the school. + +Our national ardour for this game seems always incomprehensible to a +Frenchman. There is a little trashy, conceited book now before us, in +which a French writer, professing to enlighten his countrymen upon +English life, dismisses this mysterious amusement in a definition, the +point and elegance of which it would be a pity to spoil by +translation—“_un exercice consistant à se fatiguer et à donner d’autant +plus de plaisir qu’il avait fait répandre d’autant plus de sueur_.”[2] +He is careful, at the same time, to suggest that even cricket is +probably borrowed from his own nation—the “_jeu de paume_” of the days +of the Grand Monarque. But the inability of so shrewd and intelligent an +observer, as the foreign spectator with whom we have to do at present, +to comprehend the real points of the game, is an additional testimony to +its entirely English character. The Etonian’s mamma, who, as he relates +with a sort of quiet wonder, sat for five hours on two days successively +on a bench under a hot sun, to watch the match between her son’s eleven +and Harrow, would have given a much better account of the game. The +admiring visitor does not pretend, as he observes, to go into the +details of a game which has thirty-eight rules; but he endeavours to +give his French readers some general idea of the thing, which may +suffice for unprofessional lookers-on. It is unnecessary to say that the +idea is very general indeed. The “consecrated” ground on which the +“_barrières_” are erected, and where the “_courses_” take place, are a +thoroughly French version of the affair. The “ten fieldsmen +precipitating themselves in pursuit of the ball when struck” would be +ludicrous enough to a cricketer’s imagination, if the thought of the +probable consequences were not too horrible. Even such headlong zeal on +the part of two fieldsmen only, with their eye on the same ball, has +resulted, before now, in a collision entailing the loss of half-a-dozen +front teeth and other disfigurements. It was unnecessary to exaggerate +the perils of a game which, as our author observes, has its dangers; and +if the fieldsmen at Lynmere conducted themselves after this headlong +fashion when he was watching them, we can quite understand his surprise +that, when the day concludes with the inevitable English dinner, men who +had spent the whole day “in running, striking, and receiving blows from +the ball to the bruising of their limbs” (and precipitating themselves +against each other) should still show themselves disposed to drink +toasts and make speeches for the rest of the evening. The conversation +which he has with the parish schoolmaster, an enthusiastic cricketer, is +good in its way:— + + + “‘I hope you have enjoyed the day?’ said he to me. ‘You have had an + opportunity of seeing what cricket is. It’s a noble game, is it not?’ + + “‘Yes,’ said I, ‘it is a fine exercise; and I think highly of those + amusements which bring all classes together under the influence of a + common feeling.’ + + “‘It is not only that,’ replied the excellent man: ‘but nothing + moralises men like cricket.’ + + “‘How?’ said I, rather astonished to hear him take such high ground. + + “‘Look here,’ he replied; ‘a good cricketer is bound to be sober and + not frequent the public-house, to accustom himself to obey, to + exercise restraint upon himself; besides, he is obliged to have a + great deal of patience, a great deal of activity; and to receive those + blows of the ball without shrinking, requires, I assure you, some + degree of courage.’” + + +We suspect that these remarks belong of right at least as much to the +French philosopher as to the English national schoolmaster; but they +bring forward in an amusing way the tendency of one-ideaed +philanthropists, which the author elsewhere notices, to attribute to +their own favourite hobby the only possible moral regeneration of +society: + + + “Every Englishman who is enthusiastic in any particular cause never + fails to see in that the greatness and the glory of his country; and + in this he is quite serious. In this way I have heard the game of + cricket held up to admiration as one of the noblest institutions of + England, an institution which insures to the country not only an + athletic, but an orderly and moral population. I have seen the time + when the same honour was ascribed to horse-racing; but since this + sport has crossed the Channel, and it has been found by experience + that it does not always preserve a country from revolutions and _coups + d’état_, it has lost something of its prestige in England.” + + +There is always some moral panacea in the course of advertisement, like +a quack medicine, to cure all diseases: mechanics’ institutes, cheap +literature, itinerant lecturers, monster music-classes, have all had +their turn; and just at present the ‘Saturday Review’ seems to consider +that the salvation of England depends upon the revival of +prize-fighting. + +We cannot follow the writer into all the details of village institutions +and village politics, which are sketched with excellent taste and great +correctness. It will be quite worth while for the foreigner who wants to +get a fair notion of what goes on here in the country—or indeed for the +English reader who likes to see what he knows already put into a +pleasant form, all the more amusing because the familiar terms look odd +in French—to go with our French friend to the annual dinner of “_Le Club +des Odd-Fellows_,” with its accompaniment “_de speechs, de hurrahs, et +de toasts_”—without which, he observes, no English festival can take +place; to accompany him in his “_Visite au Workhouse_,” subscribe with +him to the “_Club de Charbon_,” or, better still, sit with him in the +village Sunday-school, even if we cannot take the special interest which +he did (for his own private reasons) in “_le classe de Miss Mary_.” Very +pleasant is the picture—not overdrawn, though certainly taken in its +most sunshiny aspect—of the charitable intercourse in a well-ordered +country village between rich and poor. One form, indeed, there is of +modern educational philanthropy which the writer notices, of the success +of which we confess to have our doubts. The good ladies of Lynmere set +up an “_Ecole managère_”—a school of domestic management, we suppose we +may call it—where the village girls were to learn cooking and other good +works. Now a school of cookery, admirable as it is in theory—the amount +of ignorance on that subject throughout every county in England being +blacker than ever was figured in educational maps—presents considerable +difficulties in actual working. To learn to cook, it is necessary to +have food upon which to practise. Final success, in that art as in +others, can only be the result of a series of experimental failures. And +here was the grand stumbling-block which presented itself, in the case +of a cooking-school set up with the very best intentions, under +distinguished patronage, in a country village within our own knowledge. +Some half-dozen girls, who had left school and were candidates for +domestic service, were caught and committed to the care and instruction +of an experienced matron; not without some murmuring on the part of +village mothers, who considered such apprenticeship a waste of time,—all +girls, in their opinion, being born cooks. From this culinary college +the neighbouring families were to be in course of time supplied with +graduates. Great were the expectations formed by the managers, and by +the credulous portion of the public. There were to be no more tough +beef-steaks, no more grumbling masters and scolding mistresses, no more +indigestion. But this admirable undertaking split upon a rock which its +originators had not foreseen. It had been proposed that the village +families should in turn send dishes to be operated upon by the pupils; +but the English village mind is not given to experiments, culinary or +other, and preferred boiling its mutton one day and eating it cold the +next. Then the bachelor curate, who had a semi-official connection with +the new establishment, reading prayers there as “chaplain and visitor,” +who was presumed to have a healthy appetite, and was known to have +complained of the eternal mutton-chops provided by his landlady, was +requested to undergo a series of little dinners cooked for him gratis. +The bashful Oxonian found it impossible to resist the lady patronesses’ +invitation, and consented—for the good of the institution. But it ended +in the loss to the parish of a very excellent working parson. For a few +weeks, the experimental ragouts and curries sent in to his lodgings had +at least the advantage of being a change: but as the presiding matron +gradually struck out a bolder line, and fed him with the more ambitious +efforts of her scholars, it became too much even for clerical patience, +and he resigned his cure. Out of delicacy to the ladies’ committee, he +gave out that it was “the Dissenters;” but all his intimate friends knew +that it was the cooking-school. + +The Rector of Lynmere is a Mr Leslie—a clergyman of the refined and +intellectual type, intended, probably, as an artistic contrast to Mr +Norris in his cricket flannels. He is, we are expressly told, “an +aristocrat”—indeed, a nephew of the Countess aforesaid. He is reserved, +nervous, and diffident, although earnest and single-hearted. The vulgar +insolence of the Baptists at the vestry-meetings is gall and wormwood to +him; and he suffers scarcely less under the fussy interference of a +Madam Woodlands, one of the parish notables, of Low-Church views and +energetic benevolence, who patronises the church and the rector, and +holds him virtually responsible for all the petty offences and +indecorums which disturb the propriety of the village. This lady is very +slightly sketched, but the outline can be filled up from many a parish +clergyman’s mental notebook. We do not wonder that Mr Leslie, with his +shrinking sensibilities, had as great a horror of her as of Mr Say, the +Nonconformist agitator, who led the attack at the church-rate meetings. +Only we would remark, that if the author thinks that the unfitness of +the Rector of Lynmere to contend with a body of political Dissenters, or +his want of tact in dealing with so very excellent and troublesome a +parishioner as Mrs Woodlands, is at all explained by his being “an +aristocrat,” he is encouraging them in a very common and very +unfortunate mistake. It is true that it is not pleasant for a man of +cultivated mind and refined tastes, be he priest or layman, to be +brought into contact with opponents whose nature and feelings, and the +manner in which they express those feelings, are rude and vulgar; but if +he possess, in addition to his refinement and cultivation, good sound +sense, a moderate amount of tact, and, above all, good temper, he will +find, in the fact of his being “a gentleman,” an immense weight of +advantage over his antagonists. We remember to have seen protests, in +the writings of a modern school of English Churchmen, against what they +are pleased to term “the gentleman heresy;” representing it as dangerous +to the best interests of both priests and people, that the former should +attempt to combine with their sacred office the manners, the habits, and +the social position of the gentleman. Without entering here into the +serious question whether a special clerical caste, as it were, standing +between the lower ranks and the higher of the laity, distinct from both, +and having its separate habits and position, is a desirable institution +to recommend; without discussing the other equally important question, +whether the aristocracy of a Christian nation have not also _their_ +religious needs, and whether these also have not a right to be +consulted, and whether they will bear to be handed over to a priesthood +which, if not plebeian itself, is to have at least no common interests +or feelings with the higher classes—a question, this latter, to which +history will give us a pretty decided answer;—it is quite enough to say +that the working-classes themselves would be the foremost to demand—if +the case were put before them fairly—that the ministers of religion +should be “gentlemen” in every sense of the word. They will listen, no +doubt, with gaping mouths and open ears, to a flow of rhodomontade +declamation from an uneducated preacher: an inspired tinker will fill a +chapel or a village-green, while the quiet rector goes through the +service to a half-empty church. But inspired tinkers are rare in any +age; and it is not excitement or declamation which go to form the really +religious life of England. This—which we must not be supposed to confine +within the limits of any Church establishment—depends for its support on +sources that lie deeper and quieter than these. In trouble, in sickness, +in temptation, these things miserably fail. And the dealing of “a +gentleman” with these cases—a gentleman in manners, in thoughts, in +feeling, in respect for the feelings of others—is as distinct in kind +and in effect, as the firm but delicate handling of the educated surgeon +(who goes to the bottom of the matter nevertheless) differs from the +well-meant but bungling axe-and-cautery system of our forefathers. The +poor understand this well. They know a gentleman, and respect him; and +they will excuse in their parish minister the absence of some other very +desirable qualities sooner than this. The structure of English society +must change—its gentry must forfeit their character as a body, as they +never have done yet—before this feeling can change. When you officer +your regiments from any other class than their natural superiors, then +you may begin to officer your national Church with a plebeian clergy. + +There is another point connected with the legitimate influence of the +higher classes on which the writer speaks, we fear, either from a theory +of what ought to be, or from some very exceptional cases:— + + + “The offices of magistrate, of poor-law guardian, or even of + churchwarden, are so many modes of honourable employment offered to + those who feel in themselves some capacity for business and some wish + to be useful. It will be understood that a considerable number of + gentlemen of independent income, retired tradesmen, and officers not + employed on service, having thus before them the prospect of a useful + and active life, gather round an English village, instead of remaining + buried in the great towns, as too often is the case in our own + country.” + + +We fear the foreign reader will be mistaken if he understands anything +of the sort. The county magistracy offers, without doubt, a position +both honourable and useful; but it is seldom open to the classes +mentioned. We do not say that the offices of parish guardian and +churchwarden are highly attractive objects of ambition; but we do think +that in good hands they might become very different from what they are; +immense benefit would result in every way to many country parishes, if +men of the class whom the writer represents as filling them would more +often be induced to do so, instead of avoiding them as troublesome and +ungrateful offices, and leaving them to be claimed by the demagogues and +busybodies of the district. It may not be pleasant for a gentleman to +put himself in competition for an office of this kind; but it may be his +duty to do so. The reproach which the writer addresses to the higher +classes in France is only too applicable to those in England also:— + + + “If all those whose education, whose intelligence, whose habits of + more elevated life, give them that authority which constitutes a true + aristocracy, would but make use of their high position to exercise an + influence for good upon public matters—if only the honest and sensible + party in our country would shake off its apathy and fulfil all the + duties of citizens—our institutions would have a life and power which + at present are too often wanting.” + + +True words for the conservative spirit both in the English Church and in +the English nation to lay to heart; for, so long as education and +refinement are too nice to stain themselves with the public dust of the +arena, they have no right to complain if candidates, less able but less +scrupulous, parade themselves as victors. + +If our neighbours over the water read (as we hope many of them will) +these little sketches of an English village, drawn in their own +language, if not by one of themselves, yet by one who is evidently no +stranger to their national sympathies, and who writes manifestly with +the kindest feelings towards both, it is well, perhaps, that they should +bear in mind that it is a picture purposely taken under a sunny aspect. +Rural England is not all Arcadia. All English landladies, even in the +country, are not Mrs Joneses, nor are all English families as hospitable +as the Masons. There are villages where there is no “Miss Mary” to teach +the children or to talk sentiment. There are less fascinating +“strangers’ guides” which could take him into the public-houses and the +dancing-rooms as well as to rural fêtes and lectures, and show him what +goes on there. But while we are far from claiming to be judged by our +bright side only, we are glad that foreigners should see our bright side +sometimes. It has not been too often painted in French colours; and we +trust they will give the present artist’s work a fair hanging in their +National Gallery. + + + + + LORD MACKENZIE’S ROMAN LAW.[3] + + +It has sometimes been suspected that, in the noble delineation of the +Roman character ascribed to Anchises in the sixth book of the ‘Æneid,’ +Virgil was induced, by unworthy motives, to depreciate unduly the +oratory of his countrymen as compared with that of the Greeks; and +undoubtedly the inferiority of Cicero to Demosthenes, as a mere forensic +pleader, is not so clear or decided as to demand imperatively from a +Latin poet the admission there unreservedly made by the blunt and almost +prosaic expression, “Orabunt causas melius.” Possibly, however, it was +the poet’s true object, by yielding the most liberal concessions on +other points, to enforce the more strongly his emphatic assertion, not +merely of the superiority of the Romans in the arts of ordinary +government, but of their exclusive or peculiar possession of the powers +and faculties fitted for attaining and preserving a mighty empire. It is +certain that he has justly and vividly described the great +characteristic of that people, and the chief source and secret of their +influence in the history of the world, when he makes the patriarch +exclaim,— + + “Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento; + Hæ tibi erunt artes.” + +In aid of the high moral and intellectual qualities which led to their +success as the conquerors and rulers of the world, it is most material +to notice the structure and genius of the language in which the Roman +people expressed and embodied their political, legislative, and judicial +determinations. Every national language is more or less the reflex of +the national mind; and in no instance is this correspondence more +conspicuous than in the case we are now considering. + +The Latin language is inferior to the Greek in subtlety and refinement +of expression, and is therefore far less adapted for metaphysical +speculation or poetical grace—for analysing the nicer diversities of +thought, or distinguishing the minuter shades of passion; but in the +enunciation of ethical truths and of judicial maxims, it possesses a +clearness, force, and majesty, to which no other form of speech can +approach. The great foundations of law are good morals and good sense, +and these, however simple and plain in their elements, are not mean or +common things. On the contrary, they are susceptible of the greatest +dignity of expression when embodied in words; and the language in which +their principles shall be clothed may be of the utmost importance in +rendering them both more portable in the memory and more impressive on +the heart. The Roman jurists of the later period of the Republic were +not careless students of the Greek philosophy; but they used it in their +juridical writings with a wise discretion, and in special reference to +the object of law, which is to lay down the broad rules of human conduct +and personal rights in a form easily understood, and capable of being +easily followed and faithfully observed by the mass of mankind. + +The unequalled talent of the Roman people for political organisation is +evinced by the manner in which the imperial authority was maintained, +after the personal character of the nominal sovereigns had degenerated +to the very lowest point of profligacy and imbecility. Our Teutonic +ancestors had the wisdom to appreciate and adopt much of the machinery +which they thus found in operation; and the municipal governments, as +well as the judicial constitutions of Europe, are at this day influenced +by the models which were thus left. The Popedom itself, on whose +probable endurance for the future it would be hazardous to speculate, +but whose marvellous ascendancy in time past is beyond dispute, was +little else than an adaptation of the imperial organisation to +ecclesiastical objects. But the influence of the Roman law on other +nations was pre-eminently seen in the wide adoption of its general +scheme, as well as of its special rules and maxims. Even the law of +England—of all European systems perhaps the least indebted to the civil +law—is deeply imbued with the Roman spirit in some of the most important +departments of jurisprudence; and where the authority of the Roman law +cannot claim a submissive allegiance, it is yet listened to as the best +manifestation of the _Recta Ratio_ that can anywhere be found. The vast +experience of human transactions, and the endless complexities of social +relations, which the Roman empire presented, afforded the best materials +for maturing a science which was cultivated for noble objects by minds +of the highest order, and embodied in propositions of unrivalled power +and precision. + +Independently of its influence on individual municipal systems, the +Roman law deserves to be carefully studied, as affording the easiest +transition, and the best introduction, from classical and philosophical +pursuits to the technical rules and scientific principles of general +jurisprudence. From Aristotle’s Ethics, or from Cicero De Officiis, the +passage is plain and the ascent gentle to the Institutes of Gaius and +Justinian; and these, again, are the best preparation for the perusal of +Blackstone or Erskine. It ought, indeed, to be considered as a great +privilege of the law-student that his path lies for so great a portion +of its early way through a region which has been rendered so pleasing +and attractive by the labours of the eminent men whom we have now named, +and who combine so much charm of style and correctness of taste with so +much practical wisdom and useful philosophy. + +Hitherto, we think, there has been a great, or rather an utter, want in +this country of any good Institute of the civil law, that could safely +and efficiently guide the student in his early labours, or assist him in +his more advanced progress. The elegant and admirable summary given by +Gibbon in his History, cannot, without much comment and expansion, be +made a book of instruction; but we feel assured that this want which we +have noticed is supplied by the work now before us. Lord Mackenzie’s +book, though bearing the popular and modest title of ‘Studies in Roman +Law,’ is truly an Institute, or didactic Exposition, of that system, +where its elements and leading principles are laid down and illustrated +as fully as a student could require, while a reference is made at every +step to texts and authorities, which will enable him to extend and +confirm his views by a full examination of original sources. The +enunciation of the legal principles is everywhere given with great +brevity, but with remarkable clearness and precision, and in a manner +equally pleasing and unpretending. The comparison which is at the same +time presented between the Roman system and the laws of France, England, +and Scotland, add greatly to the attraction as well as to the usefulness +of the work. + +At the risk of appearing to resemble the man in Hierocles who carried a +brick about with him as a sample of his house, we shall here offer a few +extracts in illustration of the character of the work and its style of +execution, premising that the passages we have selected have reference +to topics more of a popular than of a scientific kind. + +The interest attaching at present to questions of international law, and +to the rights of belligerents, will recommend the passages on those +subjects which here follow:— + + + “If all the states of Europe were to concur in framing a general code + of international law, which should be binding on them all, and form + themselves into a confederacy to enforce it, this might be regarded as + a positive law of nations for Europe. But nothing of this sort has + ever been attempted. The nearest approach to such international + legislation is the general regulations introduced into treaties by the + great Powers of Europe, which are binding on the contracting parties, + but not on the states that decline to accede to them. + + “To settle disputes between nations on the principles of justice, + rather than leave them to the blind arbitrament of war, is the primary + object of the European law of nations. When war has broken out, it + regulates the rights and duties of belligerents, and the conduct of + neutrals. + + “As the weak side of the law of nations is the want of a supreme + executive power to enforce it, small states are exposed to great + disadvantages in disputes with their more powerful neighbours. But the + modern political system of Europe for the preservation of the balance + of power forms a strong barrier against unjust aggression. When the + power of one great state can be balanced, or kept in check, by that of + another, the independence of smaller states is in some degree secured + against both; for neither of the great Powers will allow its rival to + add to its strength by the conquest of the smaller states.... + + “By the declaration of 16th April 1856, the Congress of Paris, held + after the Crimean war, adopted four principles of international law. + 1. Privateering is and remains abolished. 2. The neutral flag covers + the enemy’s merchandise, with the exception of contraband of war. 3. + Neutral merchandise, with the exception of contraband of war, is not + liable to seizure under an enemy’s flag. 4. Blockades, in order to be + binding, must be effective; that is to say, must be maintained by a + force really sufficient to prevent approach to an enemy’s coast. This + declaration was signed by the plenipotentiaries of the seven Powers + who attended the Congress, and it was accepted by nearly all the + states of the world. But the United States of America, Spain, and + Mexico, refused their assent, because they objected to the abolition + of privateering. So far as these Powers are concerned, therefore, + privateering—that is, the employment of private cruisers commissioned + by the state—still remains a perfectly legitimate mode of warfare. + Britain and the other Powers who acceded to the declaration, are bound + to discontinue the practice in hostilities with each other. But if we + should have the misfortune to go to war with the United States, we + should not be bound to abstain from privateering, unless the United + States should enter into a similar and corresponding engagement with + us.... + + “The freedom of commerce, to which neutral states are entitled, does + not extend to contraband of war; but, according to the principles laid + down in the declaration of Paris of April 1856, it may now be said + that ‘a ship at sea is part of the soil of the country to which it + belongs,’ with the single exception implied in the right of a + belligerent to search for contraband. What constitutes contraband is + not precisely settled; the limits are not absolutely the same for all + Powers, and variations occur in particular treaties; but, speaking + generally, belligerents have a right to treat as contraband, and to + capture, all munitions of war and other articles directly auxiliary to + warlike purposes. The neutral carrier engages in a contraband trade + when he conveys official despatches from a person in the service of + the enemy to the enemy’s possessions; but it has been decided that it + is not illegal for a neutral vessel to carry despatches from the enemy + to his Ambassador or his Consul in a neutral country. The penalty of + carrying contraband is confiscation of the illegal cargo, and + sometimes condemnation of the ship itself. + + “The affair of the Trent, West Indian mail, gave rise to an important + question of maritime law deeply affecting the rights of neutrals. In + November 1861, Captain Wilkes, of the American war-steamer San + Jacinto, after firing a roundshot and a shell, boarded the English + mail-packet Trent, in Old Bahama Channel, on its passage from Havannah + to Southampton, and carried off by force Messrs Mason and Slidell, two + Commissioners from the Confederate States, who were taken on board as + passengers bound for England. The Commissioners were conveyed to + America, and committed to prison; but, after a formal requisition by + Britain, declaring the capture to be illegal, they were surrendered by + the Federal Government. + + “The seizure of the Commissioners was attempted to be justified by + American writers on two grounds: 1st, That the Commissioners were + contraband of war, and that in carrying them the Trent was liable to + condemnation for having committed a breach of neutrality; 2d, That, at + all events, Captain Wilkes was entitled to seize the Commissioners + either as enemies or rebels. Both these propositions are plainly + untenable.... + + “In an able despatch by the French. Government to the Cabinet of + Washington, M. Thouvenel declared that the seizure of the + Commissioners in a neutral ship, trading from a neutral port to a + neutral port, was not only contrary to the law of nations, but a + direct contravention of the principles which the United States had up + to that time invariably avowed and acted upon. Russia, Austria, and + Prussia officially intimated their concurrence in that opinion. + + “To argue the matter on the legal points in opposition to the + disinterested and well-reasoned despatch of the French Minister was a + hopeless task. In an elaborate state-paper, Mr Seward, the American + Secretary of State, professed to rest the surrender of the + Commissioners upon a mere technicality—that there had been no formal + condemnation of the Trent by a prize-court; but, apart from this point + of form, the seizure was indefensible on the merits as a flagrant + violation of the law of nations; and if the principle was not so + frankly acknowledged by Mr Seward as it ought to have been, some + allowance must be made for a statesman who was trammelled by the + report of his colleague, Mr Welles, the Secretary of the Navy, + approving of Captain Wilkes’s conduct, and still more by the necessity + of adopting a policy directly contrary to the whole current of popular + opinion in the Northern States.” + + +The law of marriage and of divorce is very fully treated by Lord +Mackenzie, and the peculiarities of the different European systems are +well pointed out. The subject, however, is too extensive and important +to admit of being incidentally noticed; and we shall confine our +extracts here to a single passage describing a Roman form of +cohabitation less honourable than matrimony, and such as we trust is +never likely, to be legalised among ourselves:— + + + “Under Augustus, concubinage—the permanent cohabitation of an + unmarried man with an unmarried woman—was authorised by law. The man + who had a lawful wife could not take a concubine; neither was any man + permitted to take as a concubine the wife of another man, or to have + more than one concubine at the same time. A breach of these + regulations was always condemned, and fell under the head of + _stuprum_. In later times the concubine was called _amica_. Between + persons of unequal rank concubinage was not uncommon; and sometimes it + was resorted to by widowers who had already lawful children and did + not wish to contract another legal marriage, as in the cases of + Vespasian, Antoninus Pius, and M. Aurelius. + + “As regards the father, the children born in concubinage were not + under his power, and were not entitled to succeed as children by a + legal marriage; but they had an acknowledged father, and could demand + support from him, besides exercising other rights. As regards the + mother, their rights of succession were as extensive as those of her + lawful children. + + “Under the Christian emperors concubinage was not favoured; but it + subsisted as a legal institution in the time of Justinian. At last Leo + the Philosopher, Emperor of the East, in a.d. 887, abrogated the laws + which permitted concubinage, as being contrary to religion and public + decency. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘should you prefer a muddy pool, when you can + drink at a purer fountain?’ The existence of this custom, however, was + long prolonged in the West among the Franks, Lombards, and Germans; + and it is notorious that the clergy for some time gave themselves up + to it without restraint.” + + +The practice of adoption prevailing in ancient Rome is well known, but +an account of it as it is retained in the French law may be thought +curious:— + + + “In France the usage of adoption was lost after the first race of + kings: it disappeared, not only in the customary provinces, but also + in the provinces governed by the written law. Re-established in 1792, + adoption is now sanctioned by the Civil Code. Adoption, however, is + only permitted to persons of either sex above the age of fifty, having + neither children nor other lawful descendants, and being at least + fifteen years older than the individual adopted. No married person can + adopt without the consent of the other spouse. The privilege can only + be exercised in favour of one who has been an object of the adopter’s + care for at least six years during minority, or of one who has saved + the life of the adopter in battle, from fire, or from drowning. In the + latter case the only restriction respecting the age of the parties is, + that the adopter shall be older than the adopted, and shall have + attained his majority. In no case can adoption take place before the + majority of the person proposed to be adopted. + + “The form of adoption consists of a declaration of consent by the + parties before a justice of the peace for the place where the adopter + resides, after which the transaction requires to be approved of by the + tribunal of first instance. After adoption, the adopted person retains + all his rights as a member of his natural family. He acquires no right + of succession to the property of any relation of the adopter; but in + regard to the property of the adopter himself, he has precisely the + same rights as a child born in marriage, even although there should be + other children born in marriage after his adoption. The adopted takes + the name of the adopter in addition to his own. No marriage can take + place between the adopter and the adopted, or his descendants, and in + certain other cases specified. + + “The practice of adoption, which is better suited to some states of + society than to others, still prevails among Eastern nations. It has + never been recognised as a legal institution in England or Scotland.” + + +In ancient Rome, as at one time in Modern Athens, there was a practice +of throwing or emptying things out of window not without danger or +damage to the passer-by. This was the law on that point:— + + + “If anything was thrown from the windows of a house near a public + thoroughfare, so as to injure any one by its fall, the inhabitant or + occupier was, by the Roman law, bound to repair the damage, though it + might be done without his knowledge by his family or servants, or even + by a stranger. This affords an illustration of liability arising + _quasi ex delicto_. + + “In like manner, when damage was done to any person by a slave or an + animal, the owner might in certain circumstances be liable for the + loss, though the mischief was done without his knowledge and against + his will; but in such a case, if no fault was directly imputable to + the owner, he was entitled to free himself from all responsibility by + abandoning the offending slave or animal to the person injured, which + was called _noxæ dare_. Though these noxal actions are not classed by + Justinian under the title of obligations _quasi ex delicto_, yet, in + principle, they evidently fall within that category. + + “All animals _feræ naturæ_, such as lions, tigers, bears, and the + like, must be kept in a secure place to prevent them from doing + mischief; but the same vigilance is not required in the case of + animals _mansuetæ naturæ_, the presumption being, that no harm will + arise in leaving them at large, unless they are known to be vicious or + dangerous. So, where a foxhound destroyed eighteen sheep belonging to + a farmer, it was decided by the House of Lords in an appeal from + Scotland, that the owner of the dog was not liable for the loss, there + being no evidence necessarily showing either knowledge of the vicious + propensities of the dog or want of due care in keeping him; and it was + observed that, both according to the English and the Scotch law, ‘the + _culpa_ or negligence of the owner is the foundation on which the + right of action against him rests.’” + + +The subject of succession is treated by Lord Mackenzie in a very ample +and satisfactory discussion. In particular, the chapter on ‘Intestate +Succession in France, England, and Scotland’ will be found highly useful +to the international jurist. Lord Mackenzie has not failed to observe +here the striking peculiarity of the Scotch law, by which, with some +qualifications very recently introduced, intestate succession, whether +in real or personal estate, goes entirely to the agnates or paternal +relations, and not at all to cognates or those on the mother’s side. +This was the law of the Twelve Tables, but it was wholly altered in +process of time, and, under Justinian’s enactments, paternal and +maternal relations were equally favoured. In retaining the old +distinction, the law of Scotland seems now to stand alone. The +peculiarity may perhaps be explained by the strong feelings of family +connection or clanship which so long prevailed in Scotland, and which +bound together the descendants of the same paternal ancestor by so many +common interests. But it is certainly singular that it should have +continued to the present day with such slender modifications; and it is +no small anomaly that, while a man may succeed to any of his maternal +relations, none of his maternal relations can in general succeed to him, +even in property which he may have inherited from the mother’s side. + +The portion of the work devoted to actions and procedure introduces a +clear light into a subject extremely technical, and often made very +obscure by the mode in which it is treated. We have only room for a +short extract as to the _remedium miserabile_ of Cessio Bonorum:— + + + “The _cessio bonorum_ has been adopted in France as well as in + Scotland. By the ancient law of France, every debtor who sought the + benefit of _cessio_ was obliged by the sentence to wear in public a + green bonnet (_bonnet vert_) furnished by his creditors, under the + penalty of being imprisoned if he was found without it. According to + Pothier, this was intended as a warning to all citizens to conduct + their affairs with prudence, so as to avoid the risk of exposing + themselves to such ignominy; but he explains that in his time, though + the condition was inserted in the sentence, it was seldom acted on in + practice, except at Bordeaux, where it is said to have been rigidly + enforced. + + “Formerly, a custom somewhat similar prevailed in Scotland. Every + debtor who obtained the benefit of _cessio_ was appointed to wear ‘the + dyvour’s habit,’ which was a coat or upper garment, half yellow and + half brown, with a cap of the same colours. In modern times this usage + was discontinued. ‘According to the state of public feeling, it would + be held a disgrace to the administration of justice. It would shock + the innocent; it would render the guilty miserably profligate.’ For a + considerable time it had become the practice in the judgment to + dispense with the dyvour’s habit, and by the statute of Will. IV. it + is utterly abolished.” + + +The work concludes with a very agreeable chapter on the Roman bar, from +which we shall borrow a couple of passages. A certain portion of time +was generally allowed to advocates for their speeches, but which varied +before different judges and at different periods. + + + “A clepsydra was used in the tribunals for measuring time by water, + similar in principle to the modern sand-glass. When the judge + consented to prolong the period assigned for discussion, he was said + to give water—_dare aquam_. ‘As for myself,’ says Pliny, ‘whenever I + sit upon the bench (which is much oftener than I appear at the bar), I + always give the advocates as much water as they require; for I look + upon it as the height of presumption to pretend to guess before a + cause is heard what time it will require, and to set limits to an + affair before one is acquainted with its extent, especially as the + first and most sacred duty of a judge is patience, which, indeed, is + itself a very considerable part of justice. But the advocate will say + many things that are useless. Granted. Yet is it not better to hear + too much than not to hear enough? Besides, how can you know that the + things are useless till you have heard them?’ + + “Marcus Aurelius, we are told, was in the habit of giving a large + measure of water to the advocates, and even permitting them to speak + as long as they pleased. + + “By a constitution of Valentinian and Valens, A.D. 368, advocates were + authorised to speak as long as they wished, upon condition that they + should not abuse this liberty in order to swell the amount of their + fees.” + + +The history of Roman practice, and, in particular, of the Cincian Law on +the subject of advocates’ fees, is ably condensed; and the law of France +and Scotland on the subject is thus stated:— + + + “In France, ancient laws and decisions, as well as the opinions of the + doctors, allowed an action to advocates to recover their fees; but + according to the later jurisprudence of the Parliament of Paris, and + the actual discipline of the bar now in force, no advocate was or is + permitted to institute such an action. In like manner barristers in + England are held to exercise a profession of an honorary character, + ‘and cannot, therefore, maintain an action for remuneration for what + they have done, unless the employer has expressly agreed to pay them.’ + Upon this point the authorities in the law of Scotland are not very + precise. Lord Bankton says, ‘Though action be competent for such + gratification, advocates who regard their character abhor such + judicial claims, and keep in their mind the notable saying of Ulpian + upon the like occasion, _Quœdam enim tametsi honeste accipiantur, + inhoneste tamen petuntur_.’ But it is maintained by others, whose + opinion is entitled to great weight, that no action lies for such + fees—the presumption, in the absence of an express paction, being, + that the advocate has ‘either been satisfied, or agreed to serve + _gratis_.’” + + +What the law of England is on this most important question will probably +be definitively settled in a _cause célèbre_ now depending. We do not +conceal our earnest hope that the principles laid down in the recent +judgment of Chief-Justice Erle will never be departed from. + +We close this notice by strongly recommending Lord Mackenzie’s book to +the notice both of the student and the practising jurist, to each of +whom we think it indispensable. + + + + + THE PERIPATETIC POLITICIAN—IN FLORENCE. + + +There is a mysterious power in this nineteenth century before which we +all bow down and worship. Emperors have grown powerful by its support, +and kings that know not how to please it become the laughing-stock of +Europe. The highest are not beyond its reach, the lowest are not beneath +its notice. The Secretary of State spreads lengthy despatches as +peace-offerings at its shrine, and the parish beadle is careful not to +put his hat on awry lest he fall beneath its censure. The idol has +innumerable votaries; but its high priests, the exponents of its law, +are the great authors and statesmen of the day. And they have a hard +taskmaster to serve: they must do the pleasure of their lord before he +has signified his wishes—they must anticipate his thoughts and be +beforehand with his commands; obsequiousness and obedience alone will +not suffice them; they may sacrifice every friend and every principle +for his sake, and nevertheless disgrace and proscription await them, +unless they can know their master’s mind before it is known to himself. + +Public Opinion is the unknown master to whom all submit; listening +anxiously but vainly for his commands, not knowing how or where to study +his humour. There are Houses of Parliament, newspapers, clubs, +mechanic’s institutes, pot-houses, prayer meetings—but which of all +these speak public opinion? A weekly gathering of articles from daily +papers is not public opinion. Opinion after dinner is not public. It is +evidently necessary to apply some means specially adapted to the place +and the time in order to discover the mood of public opinion. In +Syracuse, Dionysius constructed an ear for the purpose; unfortunately +this invention has been lost. + +In London, it is popularly said that the only means to ascertain public +opinion is to take a seat in the omnibus for the day and drive +continually up and down. + +In Florence, public opinion walks,—it cannot afford to drive. The people +must be studied on foot. The reader will therefore have already +understood that the title of this paper was chosen from necessity and +not for the sake of the alliteration; that in order to catch a glimpse +of Italian affairs as seen through Tuscan spectacles—in order to enter +for the moment into the jealousies, the grievances, and the vanities of +the provincial town of Florence—there is no resource but that of +treating the question peripatetically—that is, of walking the streets. + +This course is the more natural because in Florence the streets +are—thanks to the high price of manure—remarkably clean. Accordingly the +people live in the street; there they are to be met at an early hour +lounging along talking or smoking, wrapped in cloaks that take an extra +twist with every degree of cold. The street is their assembly-room; it +is frequented by men of all sorts, as will be at once seen by a moment’s +scrutiny of the stream of people creeping slowly along over the +pavement. + +There is the commercial dandy who affects a felt hat with mandarin +button on the crown, a knobby stick, and a would-be English +shooting-jacket. Behind him is the sober professional man, in a French +great-coat which has wandered from Paris, making room for newer +fashions. There, too, is the priest of portly figure and wasted +garments, which show at once his devotion to the inner man, and his +neglect of the outer world, walking along with a blessing on his lips +and a green cotton umbrella under his arm. By his side is the peasant +come to town for the day, cart-whip in hand, and a long coarse cloak +trailing from his shoulders, embroidered behind with flowers in green +silk. Every stitch will show character in one way or another. Italians +wear green flowers where Spaniards would have crosses in black braid. + +And who is there among all this crowd who would trouble his thoughts +about Victor Emmanuel and his Ministers? Look at yonder corner-wall +where there is a sheet of paper prominently pasted on a black board: one +solitary passenger gives it a passing glance: that is the telegram just +received, announcing the formation of the new Ministry. But farther on +there are collected a little company of people, whose animated and +intent looks show something really interesting to be going on: it is +that two or three young men are practising in chorus a snatch out of the +last street-ballad. Farther on the respective merits of different +ballet-dancers are under discussion, and some of the company are +pronouncing the stage-manager unfit for his post. In the whole crowd +there is not one word, nor even a passing thought, bestowed on the +Government which is going on at Turin. So universal is the carelessness +with regard to the current affairs of the day, that, as a general rule, +if a man be heard to speak about politics, or in any way show himself +conversant with public affairs, it may at once be concluded, more +especially if he speak in a disagreeable voice, that that man is a +Piedmontese.[4] + +In vain do loud-voiced criers hawk prints representing the murder of the +Gignoli family by the Austrians in 1859; they offer them at half-price, +at quarter-price, but find no purchasers. Even the photograph of the +bullet extracted from Garibaldi’s foot has ceased to draw people to the +shop-window. + +Leaving the street for the moment, and turning the corner of the great +Piazza, we find under the colonnade, opposite the picture gallery, an +anxious crowd of people, eager and pushing. That is the entrance to the +‘Monte di Pieta,’ or municipal pawnbroking establishment (for private +pawnbroking is illicit in Florence). There is a long table before the +door, and on it are spread silver watches, coral bracelets, and other +trinkets. Articles that have lain unredeemed are being sold at auction. +The sale is well attended, but purchasers will not compete. There is +much examination and very little bidding. This same scene has occurred +regularly at stated intervals for the last several centuries. + +In the time of the Medicis, public policy and private benevolence became +copartners in founding a self-supporting pawnbroking shop on a large +scale, to be kept under the supervision of Government. To a people who, +whenever they begin to be pinched in circumstances, try to economise but +never attempt to work, and exert themselves rather to save than to make +money, it is no small object to have a public pawnbroking establishment +where money is allowed at a fixed scale. If a Florentine have a bracelet +too much, and bread too little, he has but to give the bracelet in pawn +to the Government. In the same way, if he be troubled with a child too +many, he proceeds to the infant asylum, rings the bell, and in the +cradle which forthwith opens, he deposits the child for the Government +to feed. Under the Governments which have prevailed in Tuscany for the +last three hundred years, this is precisely the kind of political +institution which the Florentines have learnt to value and appreciate. + +The proper supervision of the pawnbroking shop, the maintenance of the +foundling asylums and the hospitals (with which Florence is, in +proportion, better provided than London), the grant made to the +opera—these and other such questions are the matters of government in +which a Florentine takes interest. To politics, in an Englishman’s sense +of the word, they pay little or no attention. In the election of +representatives to the Chambers at Turin the people appear to take +little or no part. For instance: M. Peruzzi, the present Minister for +the Interior, is one of the representatives of Florence. On accepting +office he was of course obliged to appeal to his constituents. The seat +was contested. On the day appointed for the election I had occasion to +ask my way to the place where it was being held: several respectable +citizens did not know that any election was to take place whatever. At +last one man, better informed than the rest, had heard something about +an election that week, but did not know where the elections were held. +The election proved invalid for want of the legal complement of +voters—namely, one-half the whole number. This is the general result of +elections in Tuscany on the first trial. The second election is valid, +provided only the same number of voters are present as attended the +first. This is fortunate, otherwise it might occur that there would be a +lack of representatives from Tuscany in the Parliament at Turin. + +The fact is, and it needs repetition, the Florentines do not care about +politics. They have accepted the revolution that was made for them, and +on the whole are well contented with the change; at least we ought in +justice to ascribe their general listlessness in political affairs to +contentment and not to indifference. + +To inquire, however, more exactly into the thoughts of those amongst the +Florentines who do think about politics, it will be as well to obtain at +once rest and information by sitting down for a few moments in the +tobacconist’s shop, which may be called the centre of the political +world. To begin with, the tobacconist is always himself by profession a +finished politician, and he, moreover, enjoys the confidence of several +distinguished friends, who keep him accurately informed of every word +that passes in the Cabinets of Europe. The general burden of his +conversation, which is a fair type of the talk at shops and second-rate +cafés, is as follows:—The Pope-king is the father of all mischief; and +how should it be otherwise? are not priests and kings always the +promoters of every evil? and this man is a combination of both. Then +follows a complaint against the Emperor Napoleon and his creatures, the +Ministers at Turin, who, like true Piedmontese, are in secret jealous of +the greatness of Italy, and treacherously keep in pay reactionary +employés in lieu of filling the offices, as they should, with +enterprising liberals. This sentiment meets with loud and general +applause, and the company, waxing warm on this topic, forthwith launch +into various prophecies as to the immediate future. French wars, Polish +revolutions, Austrian bankruptcies, are all considered, and it is +weighed what each might do for Italy. What the Italians themselves might +do is a less frequent theme. + +The Government, however, is blamed for its neglect of Garibaldi, which +is only of a piece with its conduct in leaving the active and patriotic +liberals of the country without employment while they are pensioning the +reactionists—an opinion which usually serves as alpha and omega in the +discussions of the Florentine liberals on the conduct of the Government. + +Having exhausted this topic, our friend the politico-tobacconist resumes +his seat, taking his scaldino (an earthenware vessel shaped like a +basket, and filled with hot ashes) on his lap for the comfort of his +fingers, and proceeds to draw the attention of visitors to various piles +of newspapers, the sale of which is part of his trade. And as Florence +produces, for a country town, a very respectable number of papers (some +dozen daily papers, not to count two tri-weekly papers and other +periodicals), which, moreover, have something of a national, or rather +of a provincial character, it will be worth while to look over them +before leaving the tobacconist’s shop. It is not every paper that will +be found: for instance, the three retrograde papers will not be +forthcoming. These have so extremely small a circulation that it is very +difficult to hunt them up. It is only by favour, for instance, that a +copy of the ‘Contemporaneo’ can be got, for, there being no public +demand, there is no sale; a limited number of copies only are +distributed among subscribers. + +The newspapers to be found on the counter are all liberal, but of +various shades of “colour,” as the Italians name party opinions. + +The ‘Gazzetta del Popolo,’ which is strictly constitutional, has still +the largest circulation of any (it prints about 3000 copies daily), +though not half what it had. Its decline has been owing partly to +general competition, partly to its having embraced the defence of the +late Ratazzi Ministry, which unpopular course is said to have cost it in +a few months nearly one-fourth of its circulation; partly, perhaps, to +its sustaining the Piedmontese, who have not of late been growing in the +favour of the Tuscans. + +The other papers are all more “advanced,” that is, more opposed to +Government. Among these the ‘Censor’ ranks first. This is a thoroughly +Tuscan paper, and full of quaint, provincial expressions. In party +politics it is red—a colour which evidently finds most favour in the +eyes of the poorer citizens; for recently it lost no less than a fourth +of its circulation by raising its price from three to five cents, that +is, from about a farthing and a half to a halfpenny. In its columns, +though not there only, may be seen a catalogue of indictments against +the Piedmontese. The Tuscans voted annexation to Italy, it is said—not +to Piedmont. With Rome unity, without it none. Does the unity of Italy +mean the domination of Turin? Are we to accept from the most barbarous +portion of Italy laws which are sent down to us written in a jargon +which cannot even be called Italian? Tuscany is being fleeced by men so +greedy of every little gain, that they supply all the royal offices with +paper made only in Piedmont, in order that Piedmontese paper-mills may +reap the benefit. + +It speaks well for the Piedmontese that, with so much desire to find +fault with them, these are the most serious charges brought forward. + +In the Ratazzi Ministry the papers lost the most fruitful theme of +declamation. The caricatures against this Minister were endless, +representing him in every stage of official existence, from the time +when he climbs the high ministerial bench by the aid of a little finger +stretched out from Paris, to the moment when he is shown hiding his head +under the folds of the Emperor’s train. + +What is said against the Italian Government, however, is not said in +praise of the Grand-duke’s rule. On the contrary, the Opposition +papers—those at least that have any circulation—all lean rather towards +the “party of action,” or the extreme Liberals. The most prominent paper +of this description in Florence is the ‘New Europe,’ which is +republican, and makes no mystery of its principles. + +Indeed, the press is so outspoken, and is allowed such latitude, that it +is difficult to understand for what purpose the Government maintains a +censorship. Nevertheless, such is the case. It is not a very effective +one. Every paper is bound to be laid before the Reggio procurator +twenty-four hours before it is published; but that official is so little +able to peruse them all within the specified time, that it has +frequently happened that a paper has been sequestrated when it was a day +old, and had been already read and forgotten. The right of +sequestration, however, has been used pretty freely. The ‘Censor’ was +sequestrated more than sixty times in the course of last year, and the +‘New Europe’ has been treated even more severely: on one occasion it was +sequestrated for three days running. + +It is, however, high time to turn from the ideal to the material world; +that is, to leave the tobacconist and his newspapers, and dive into the +recesses of some very dirty and narrow little lanes where the market is +being held, in order to see whether the prices given and the business +done prove any decline in the prosperity of Florence since the days of +the Grand-duke. + +Passing by the mountains of vegetables piled up ornamentally against the +huge stones of the Strozzi Palace, the reader must pick his way +carefully amidst the accumulated masses of cabbage-stalks, children, and +other dirt beneath, avoiding at the same time the carcasses that hang +out from the butchers’ stalls on either side, from poles projecting far +into the passage, and stooping every now and then to avoid the festoons +of sausages which hang down from above, garland-fashion, just low enough +to come in contact with the nose of an average-sized mortal. If by +strictly observing the above precautions he can make his way despite all +these obstacles, he will on turning the next corner arrive safely in +front of an old woman and a boy presiding over sundry emblems of +purgatory in the shape of huge frying-pans fixed over charcoal fires. +The boy is ladling a mass of tiny dainties out of a seething black +liquid, which have an appearance as of whitebait being fished out of the +Thames. It is, however, only an appearance; for these are nothing more +than small cakes of chestnut-flour, by name “sommomoli,” fried in oil, +from which they emerge copper-coloured, sweet, nourishing, and +tasteless, costing half a centesimo, or the twentieth part of a penny, +a-piece. The old woman is in person superintending a still larger +frying-pan, in which are frizzling square cut cakes, resembling +Yorkshire pudding, sometimes interspersed with small slices of meat. +These, by name “ignochchi,” consist of nothing less than Indian corn +savoured with hogs-lard. A penny (ten centesimi) will purchase ten of +them—a larger quantity than most English, or any Italian stomach would +find it convenient to dispose of at one sitting. A step farther on +slices will be offered to the passer-by off a huge flat cake the colour +of gingerbread, also made of chestnut-flour, and so satisfying that it +would puzzle even an Eton lollypop-eater to consume a penny’s worth. +There are yet other delicacies, one especially tempting, a kind of +black-pudding or rather black wafer. It consists of a spoonful of hog’s +blood fried in oil, and then turned out of the pan on to a plate, +seasoned with scraped cheese, and devoured hot, at a halfpenny a-piece. + +With street goodies at these rates, whatever rise there may have been in +prices, it is impossible to believe that they are of a nature to press +to any extent upon the people at large. But take the staples of the +market; look into the baker’s shop; weigh the loaves sold over the +counter, and the price of the best wheaten bread will prove to be +fifteen centesimi (a penny halfpenny a-pound)—not to mention the sacks +of maize-flour, of rice, and of millet on the threshold. + +Nevertheless the Florentine market shows a general rise in prices, +probably attributable in part to the increased facility for sending the +products of Tuscany, this garden of Italy, into the adjacent provinces, +in part, although indirectly, to increased taxation, by which is meant +not merely Government taxation, but the municipal rates, which have +considerably increased in Florence; for the corporation of the town, in +common with many other municipalities and commonalties, are availing +themselves of their greater freedom of action under the new Government +to carry out numberless improvements, which it was difficult to execute +before on account of the lengthy representations which were required to +be laid before the Grand-ducal Government. + +The increase of taxation consequently is very considerable. The “tassa +prediale,” or property-tax, for instance, has been increasing in +Florence since 1859 at the rate of about one per cent every year, and in +some commonalties it is even higher. There are men in Florence who are +now paying in taxes (local rates and all included) exactly four times +what they paid in the Grand-duke’s day. It is true that this increase is +not so oppressive as it would appear, because the taxation of Tuscany +used to be extremely light, being under fourteen shillings per head +compared with the population. Still the cheerfulness with which this +increase has been borne is a hopeful sign of the general willingness of +the people to support the Italian Government. No impatience even has +been shown at the rapidly augmenting taxes, and this single fact +deserves to be set against a multitude of complaints on smaller matters. + +Taxation, however, probably enters for very little in the rise of market +prices. The reason of this increase is to be sought in local causes. For +instance, there have been several successive bad seasons for olives. +This year the yield is better, and the price is falling. Wine is still +very high, owing to the grape disease. Meat is nearly double what it was +some years since, owing, it is said, chiefly to a drought last summer. + +The rise in prices, however, has been counterbalanced, so far as the +working population are concerned, by a rise in wages, which has been on +the average from a Tuscan lire to a Sardinian franc, or about 20 per +cent. + +On the whole, comparing the rise in prices with that in wages, the real +pay of the labourer would seem to have slightly improved. So far, +therefore, as the people’s stomachs are concerned, the comparison is not +unfavourable to the new Government. To persons residing at Florence on +fixed incomes, however, the increase in both instances is unfavourable, +and they not unnaturally regard that which is inconvenient to themselves +as ruinous to the country. + +The loss of the custom of the Court and its train, upon which so much +stress has been laid, so far from having affected Tuscany, has not even +really affected Florence. The amount taken on account of the “octroi” at +the gates of Florence shows the consumption to be on the increase. + +We may therefore leave the market with the conviction that there is no +material pressure at work to cause discontent. Some tradesmen really +have suffered from the absence of the Court, as the jewellers and +milliners for instance; but trade generally has not felt the difference. + +Continuing, however, our walk in search of public opinion, we come, in a +street not far distant, to a real cause of complaint; and in Tuscany, +where there is a cause, there will be no want of complaint. There are a +couple of soldiers standing sentry before a large door, and all around +knots of countrymen talking together in anxious expectation, or not +talking, but silently taking leave. + +The conscription is a grievance. It is the only act of the new +Government which is generally felt to be a hardship, and sometimes +murmured against as an injustice. Rather more than one in every five of +the youths who this year attain the age of twenty-one are being drawn +for the army. This is the proportion of those taken from their homes and +sent to the depots of different regiments, for all are liable to +military service under one category or another. Being inscribed and left +at home, however, is no great hardship: it is the separation from home +which is dreaded, and therefore the numbers of the first category in the +conscription which have alone to be considered. This heavy conscription +is something new to the Tuscans. In the palmy days of Grand-ducal +Government, before 1848, exemption from military service could be +obtained for something less than £4 English; after the Austrian +occupation, the conscription having grown severer, the cost of exemption +was about doubled; but now it amounts to a sum which none but the +wealthy can possibly pay. + +The young conscripts, however, become rapidly imbued with the +professional pride of their older comrades; and it often happens that +lads, who have parted from their home in tears, astonish their quiet +parents a few weeks after with letters full of enthusiasm for the +Italian army. Enthusiasm on any subject is a rare virtue in Tuscany; and +if a military life for six years could infuse into the rising generation +some energy and some habits of discipline, the army would prove a more +important means of education than all the new schools which are to be +introduced. + +But how is it that throughout this perambulation of the town of Florence +we have not come across a single sign of that touching affection for the +late Grand-duke which has been so vividly and so often described in +England? + +The truth is, that although there is a good deal of discontent with the +present Government, there is no regret for the last. + +Of all the weak sentiments which exist in Tuscan breasts, loyalty +towards the late Grand-duke is certainly the very weakest. + +In order, however, that the reader may catch a glimpse of the “Codini” +(or “party of the tail,” as the following of the late Grand-duke are +called) before they are all numbered among the antiquities of Italy, it +will be advisable to take one turn on the banks of the Arno in the +“Cascine,” the fashionable walk, or “the world,” of the Florentines. + +It is sunset, and the evening chill is making itself felt—in fact, to +lay aside all romance about the Italian climate, it is very cold. The +upper five hundred come out at dew-fall, when everybody else goes in, +apparently for no better reason than because everybody else does go in. +There are Russians driving in handsome droschkes, and Americans in +livery-stable barouches of an unwieldy magnificence. But our business is +not with these; the native gentility of Florence is just arriving—ladies +in closely-shut broughams, and young gentlemen, some in open carriages, +half dog-carts half phaetons; others, less fortunate, in open fiacres. + +They drive down to the end of the Cascine, where old beggar women attend +upon them with “scaldine” to warm their fingers over. There men and +women alight and promenade at a foot’s pace, despite the cold, after +which they all drive home again. + +And what can they have been about all day before they came to the +Cascine? The masters and mistresses have been sitting in their +respective rooms, drawing such warmth as they might from a stove most +economically furnished with wood; the servants have been sitting in the +antechamber, holding their four extremities over the hot ashes in the +“brasero,” a metal vessel something like an English stewpan on a large +scale; for the Italian palaces are cold: the architect may have done +well, but the mason and the carpenter have been negligent. The walls are +joined at any angle except a right one; the windows do not close; the +floors are diversified by sundry undulations, so that a space is left +beneath the door, through which light zephyrs play over the ill-carpeted +floor. Perhaps the lady of the house has been sitting in state to +receive her friends; for every Florentine lady is solemnly announced as +“at home” to all her friends one day in the week, so as to keep them out +of the house all the other six. + +This is the married life in the palace. The life of the young men, the +bachelor life of Florence, is not a bit more active. In a word, the life +of a Florentine in easy circumstances is a prolonged lounge. It is not +that they loiter away their time for a few weeks, or for a few +months—for “a season,” in short—that is done all the world over; but the +Florentines do nothing but loiter. The most active portion of their +lives is that now before us,—the life during the carnival. The carnival +over, the rest of the year is spent in recruiting finances and health +for the next winter. + +Lest the reader should treat this description as exaggerated or unduly +severe, it will be best to let the Florentines themselves describe their +own manner of living, and give, word for word, the rules laid down in a +Florentine paper[5] for any young gentleman who wishes to live in +holiness, peace, and happiness (_sic_). + +“On waking in the morning, take a cup of coffee in bed; and if you have +a servant to pour it out, mind that she be a young and pretty one. + +“Then light a cigar (but not of native tobacco; it is too bad), or, +better still, take a whiff of a pipe. + +“Clear your ideas by smoking, and, little by little, have yourself +dressed by the person who undressed you the night before. + +“After writing a meaningless letter, or reading a chapter out of a +novel, go out, weather permitting. + +“Should you meet a priest, a hunchback, or a white horse, return +straightway, or a misfortune may befall you. + +“After a short turn, get back to breakfast, and, this over, bid the +driver put to and whip up for the Cascine. + +“There go from one carriage to the other, and talk scandal to each lady +against all the rest: this to kill time till dinner. + +“Eat enough, and drink more; and should some wretch come to trouble your +digestion by begging his bread, tell him a man should work. + +“At night, go to the theatre, the club, or into society. At the theatre, +should there be a new piece, hiss it; this will give you the reputation +of a connoisseur; should there be an opera, try to learn an air that you +may sing at the next party; should there be a ballet, endeavour to play +Mæcenas to some dancer, according to the custom of the century. + +“One day over, begin the next in the same way, and so on to the end.” + +This, in sober earnest, is the life of a Florentine noble; except that, +if rich enough, he spends all his superfluous energy and wealth in +occasional visits to Paris. If unusually clever, he will become a good +singer, or a judge of art—not of pictures and statues, probably, but of +antique pots and pans. Otherwise he has no pursuit whatever, and his +sole occupation is to persuade himself that he is an Adonis, and his +friends that he is as fortunate as Endymion. + +Such is the stuff which the Codini nobles are made of, and so let them +drive home in peace. These are not the manner of men to make counter +revolutions. Brought up as boys by a priest, within the four walls of a +palace, they have never had an opportunity of gaining any experience of +life beyond that afforded by the café, the theatre, and the Court, and +they feel alarmed and annoyed to find growing up around them a state of +things in which men will have to rank according as they can make +themselves honoured by the people, and not according to the smile they +may catch at Court. To this must be added, with some, a genuine personal +feeling towards the late Grand-duke, but these are very few; they are +limited for the most part to the courtiers, or “the antechamber” of the +Court that has passed away, and even with them it is no more than a +feeling of patronising friendship—nothing resembling the loyalty of an +Englishman towards his sovereign. But most of the regret expressed for +the late Grand-duke is nothing more than ill-disguised disappointment at +being no longer able to cut a figure at Court and rub shoulders with +royalty; and this is a form of politics not altogether unknown among our +good countrymen at Florence. + +It is cruel of reactionary writers and orators in other countries to +draw down ridicule on the harmless and peaceful gentlemen who form the +small band of Codini at Florence, by endeavouring to magnify them into a +counter-revolutionary party. + +The Codini at Florence would wish for the Austrians: they have a faint +and lingering hope of a Parisian Court at Florence, under Prince +Napoleon; but they do not even pretend that they would move a finger in +any cause. + +There are men in Tuscany, and even gentlemen, who will work and form +themselves, let us hope, on the stamp of Baron Ricasoli; but these are +not to be found among the clique of the Codini at Florence. + +The intelligence and energy of the country is for Italy, and nearly all +the great names of Florence—the names of republican celebrity, to their +honour be it said—are to be found in the ranks of the national party. It +is true their name is at present all that they can give to forward the +cause. + +Let us hope, however, that the ideas of ambition, and the wider field +for competition which the new system offers, may awake in the children +now growing up in Florence an energy which has been unknown to their +fathers for many and many a generation. Then, perhaps, a walk in the +streets of Florence thirty years hence will no longer show us electors +who will not step a hundred yards out of the way in order to attend an +election. The Florentines may, at their own pleasure, by taking a part +in their own government and the government of Italy, virtually terminate +that Piedmontese tutelage against which they fret, and without which +they are not yet fit to carry out a constitutional system. + + + FLORENCE, _Feb. 2, 1863_. + + + + + THE FRANK IN SCOTLAND.[6] + + +For the benefit of the reader who may not have time and inclination to +work his way through two thick volumes of research—for the benefit also +of him who might be inclined to that adventurous task, but desires +beforehand to have some notion of the tenor and character of the work +before he invests in it his time and patience—we gave, in our November +Number, a sketch of what we thought the prominent features of the doings +of our countrymen in France, during the long period when Scotland was +alienated from England. We now propose to take up the other side of the +reciprocity. The two sketches will necessarily be distinct in character, +as the material facts to which they refer were distinct. France was, as +we have seen, the centre round which what remained of the civilisation +of the old world lingered; and, along with much wretchedness among the +common people, she was of all the states of Europe that which contained +the largest abundance of the raw material of wealth, and consequently of +the elements by which men of enterprise could raise themselves to +affluence and station. Scotland was on the outskirts of those lands in +which the new civilisation of the northern nations was slowly and coldly +ripening to a still distant maturity. These two countries, so unlike, +were knit into a close alliance, by a common danger inducing them to +adopt a common policy. But, being fundamentally unlike, their close +intercourse naturally tended, by close contact and comparison, to bring +out the specialties of their dissimilarity. + +And in nothing is this dissimilarity more conspicuous than when we look +at the method and the object of the Scots’ sojourn in France, and +compare them with those which characterised the few Frenchmen who came +to us. The ruling feature in the former side of the reciprocity is, the +profuseness with which our countrymen domesticated themselves in the +land of their ancient allies, and infused new blood into theirs. There +was little to attract the Frenchman to pitch his tent with us. As soon +almost would he have thought of seeking his fortunes in Lapland or +Iceland. Here, therefore, we have less to do with the fortunes of +individual adventurers than with the national policy of the French +towards Scotland, and those who casually came among us for the purpose +of giving it effect. Our country had in fact been in a great measure +cleared of French names before our intercourse with France began, and +they never reappeared, except casually and in connection with some +special political movement. The Norman French who had migrated from +England over the border having, as we have seen, rendered themselves +offensive by helping their own Norman King to enslave Scotland, were +driven away in considerable numbers at the conclusion of the war of +independence; and afterwards the French, though they kept up the policy +of a close alliance with us, and gave a hearty reception to our own +adventurers, found nothing to tempt them to reciprocate hospitalities. +Hence the present sketch is not likely to afford any such genial history +of national hospitality and successful adventure as the paper devoted to +the conduct of our countrymen in France. + +The policy of our alliance against England as the common enemy had +become a thing of pretty old standing; many a Scot had sought his +fortune in France; and names familiar to us now on shop-signs and in +street-directories had been found among the dead at Poictiers, before we +have authentic account of any Frenchmen having ventured across the sea +to visit the sterile territory of their allies. Froissart makes a story +out of the failure of the first attempt to send a French ambassador +here. The person selected for the duty was the Lord of Bournazel or +Bournaseau, whose genealogy is disentangled by M. Michel in a learned +note. He was accredited by Charles V. in the year 1379, and was +commanded to keep such state as might become the representative of his +august master. Bournazel set off to embark at Sluys, and then had to +wait fifteen days for a favourable wind. The ambassador thought there +was no better way of beguiling the time than a recitation among the Plat +Dutch of the splendours which he was bound in the way of public duty to +exhibit in the sphere of his mission. Accordingly, “during this time he +lived magnificently; and gold and silver plate were in such profusion in +his apartments as if he had been a prince. He had also music to announce +his dinner, and caused to be carried before him a sword in a scabbard +richly blazoned with his arms in gold and silver. His servants paid well +for everything. Many of the townspeople were much astonished at the +great state this knight lived in at home, which he also maintained when +he went abroad.” This premature display of his diplomatic glories +brought him into a difficulty highly characteristic of one of the +political specialties of France at that period. It was the time when the +nobles of the blood-royal were arrogating to themselves alone certain +prerogatives and ceremonials distinguishing them from the rest of the +territorial aristocracy, however high these might be. The Duke of +Bretagne and the Count of Flanders, who were near at hand, took umbrage +at the grand doings of Bournazel, and sent for him through the bailiff +of Sluys. That officer, after the manner of executive functionaries who +find themselves sufficiently backed, made his mission as offensive as +possible, and, tapping Bournazel on the shoulder, intimated that he was +wanted. The great men had intended only to rebuke him for playing a part +above his commission, but the indiscretion of their messenger gave +Bournazel a hold which he kept and used sagaciously. When he found the +princes who had sent for him lounging at a window looking into the +gardens, he fell on his knees and acknowledged himself the prisoner of +the Count of Flanders. To take prisoner an ambassador, and the +ambassador of a crowned king, the feudal lord of the captor, was one of +the heaviest of offences, both against the law of nations and the spirit +of chivalry. The Earl was not the less enraged that he felt himself +caught; and after retorting with, “How, rascal, do you dare to call +yourself my prisoner when I have only sent to speak with you?” he +composed himself to the delivery of the rebuke he had been preparing in +this fashion: “It is by such talkers and jesters of the Parliament of +Paris and of the king’s chamber as you, that the kingdom is governed; +and you manage the king as you please, to do good or evil according to +your wills: there is not a prince of the blood, however great he may be, +if he incur your hatred, who will be listened to; but such fellows shall +yet be hanged until the gibbets be full of them.” Bournazel carried this +pleasant announcement and the whole transaction to the throne, and the +king took his part, saying to those around, “He has kept his ground +well: I would not for twenty thousand francs it had not so happened.” +The embassy to Scotland was thus for the time frustrated. It was said +that there were English cruisers at hand to intercept the ambassador, +and that he himself had no great heart for a sojourn in the wild unknown +northern land. Possibly the fifteen days’ lording it at Sluys may have +broken in rather inconveniently on his outfit; but the most likely cause +of the defeat of the first French embassy to our shores was, the +necessity felt by Bournazel to right himself at once at court, and turn +the flank of his formidable enemies; and Froissart says, the Earl of +Flanders lay under the royal displeasure for having, in his vain +vaunting, defeated so important a project as the mission to the Scots. + +A few years afterwards our country received a visit, less august, it is +true, than the intended embassy, but far more interesting. In 1384, +negotiations were exchanged near the town of Boulogne for a permanent +peace between England and France. The French demanded concessions of +territory which could not be yielded, and a permanent peace, founded on +a final settlement of pending claims, was impossible. A truce even was +at that time, however, a very important conclusion to conflict; it +sometimes lasted for years, being in reality a peace under protest that +each party reserved certain claims to be kept in view when war should +again break out. Such a truce was adjusted between England on the one +side and France on the other—conditional on the accession of her allies +Spain and Scotland. France kept faith magnanimously, in ever refusing to +negotiate a separate peace or truce for herself; but, as the way is with +the more powerful of two partners, she was apt to take for granted that +Scotland would go with her, and that the affair was virtually finished +by her own accession to terms. + +It happened that in this instance the Duke of Burgundy took in hand to +deal with Scotland. He had, however, just at that moment, a rather +important piece of business, deeply interesting to himself, on hand. By +the death of the Earl of Flanders he succeeded to that fair domain—an +event which vastly influenced the subsequent fate of Europe. So busy was +he in adjusting the affairs of his succession, that it was said he +entirely overlooked the small matter of the notification of the truce to +Scotland. Meanwhile, there was a body of men-at-arms in the French +service at Sluys thrown out of employment by the truce with England, +and, like other workmen in a like position, desirous of a job. They knew +that the truce had not yet penetrated to Scotland, and thought a journey +thither, long and dangerous as it was, might be a promising speculation. +There were about thirty of them, and Froissart gives a head-roll of +those whose names he remembered, beginning with Sir Geoffry de Charny, +Sir John de Plaissy, Sir Hugh de Boulon, and so on. They dared not +attempt, in face of the English warships, to land at a southern harbour, +but reached the small seaport called by Froissart Monstres, and not +unaptly supposed by certain sage commentators to be Montrose, since they +rode on to Dundee and thence to Perth. They were received with a deal of +rough hospitality, and much commended for the knightly spirit that +induced them to cross the wide ocean to try their lances against the +common enemy of England. Two of them were selected to pass onto +Edinburgh, and explain their purpose at the court of Holyrood. Here they +met two of their countrymen on a mission which boded no good to their +enterprise. These were ambassadors from France, come at last to notify +the truce. It was at once accepted by the peaceable King Robert, but the +Scots lords around him were grieved in heart at the prospect that these +fine fellows should come so far and return without having any sport of +that highly flavoured kind which the border wars afforded. The truce +they held had been adjusted not by Scotland but by France; and here, as +if to contradict its sanction, were Frenchmen themselves offering to +treat it as naught. There was, however, a far stronger reason for +overlooking it. Just before it was completed, but when it was known to +be inevitable, the Earls of Northumberland and Nottingham suddenly and +secretly drew together two thousand men-at-arms and six thousand bowmen, +with which they broke into Scotland, and swept the country as far as +Edinburgh with more than the usual ferocity of a border raid; for they +made it to the Scots as if the devil had come among them, having great +wrath, for he knew that his time was short. It was said, even, that the +French ambassadors sent to Scotland to announce the truce had been +detained in London to allow time for this raid coming off effectively. +“To say the truth,” says Froissart, mildly censorious, “the lords of +England who had been at the conference at Bolinghen, had not acted very +honourably when they had consented to order their men to march to +Scotland and burn the country, knowing that a truce would speedily be +concluded: and the best excuse they could make was, that it was the +French and not they who were to signify such truce to the Scots.” +Smarting from this inroad, the Scots lords, and especially the Douglases +and others on the border, were in no humour to coincide with their +peaceful King. They desired to talk the matter over with the +representatives of the adventurers in some quiet place; and, for reasons +which were doubtless sufficient to themselves, they selected for this +purpose the church of St Giles in Edinburgh. The conference was highly +satisfactory to the adventurers, who spurred back to Perth to impart the +secret intelligence that though the king had accepted the truce, the +lords were no party to it, but would immediately prepare an expedition +to avenge Nottingham and Northumberland’s raid. This was joyful +intelligence, though in its character rather surprising to followers of +the French court. A force was rapidly collected, and in a very few days +the adventurers were called to join it in the Douglases’ lands. + +So far Froissart. This affair is not, at least to our knowledge, +mentioned in detail by any of our own annalists writing before the +publication of his Chronicles. Everything, however, is there set forth +so minutely, and with so distinct and accurate a reference to actual +conditions in all the details, that few things in history can be less +open to doubt. Here, however, we come to a statement inviting question, +when he says that the force collected so suddenly by the Scots lords +contained fifteen thousand mounted men; nor can we be quite reconciled +to the statement though their steeds were the small mountain horses +called hackneys. The force, however, was sufficient for its work. It +found the English border trusting to the truce, and as little prepared +for invasion as Nottingham and Northumberland had found Scotland. The +first object was the land of the Percies, which the Scots, in the +laconic language of the chronicler, “pillaged and burnt.” And so they +went onwards; and where peasants had been peacefully tilling the land or +tending their cattle amid the comforts of rude industry, there the +desolating host passed, the crops were trampled down—their owners left +dead in the ashes of their smoking huts—and a few widows and children, +fleeing for safety and food, was all of animal life left upon the scene. +The part, indeed, taken in it by his countrymen was exactly after +Froissart’s own heart, since they were not carrying out any of the +political movements of the day, nor were they even actuated by an +ambition of conquest, but were led by the sheer fun of the thing and the +knightly spirit of adventure to partake in this wild raid. To the Scots +it was a substantial affair, for they came back heavy-handed, with +droves and flocks driven before them—possibly some of them recovered +their own. + +The king had nothing to say in his vindication touching this little +affair, save that it had occurred without his permission, or even +knowledge. The Scots lords were not the only persons who broke that +truce. It included the Duke of Burgundy and his enemies, the Low Country +towns; yet his feudatory, the Lord Destournay, taking advantage of the +defenceless condition of Oudenarde during peace, took it by a clever +stratagem. The Duke of Burgundy, when appealed to, advised Destournay to +abandon his capture; but Destournay was wilful: he had conquered the +city, and the city was his—so there was no help for it, since the +communities were not strong enough to enforce their rights, and Burgundy +would only demand them on paper. What occasioned the raid of the Scots +and French to be passed over was, however, that the Duke of Lancaster, +John of Gaunt, who had the chief authority over the English councils, as +well as the command over the available force, was taken up with his own +schemes on the crown of Castile, and not inclined to find work for the +military force of the country elsewhere. The truce, therefore, was +cordially ratified; bygones were counted bygones; and the French +adventurers bade a kindly farewell to their brethren-in-arms, and +crossed the seas homewards. + +Driven from their course, and landing at the Brille, they narrowly +escaped hanging at the hands of the boorish cultivators of the swamp; +and after adventures which would make good raw materials for several +novels, they reached Paris. + +There they explained to their own court how they found that the great +enemy of France had, at the opposite extremity of his dominions, a nest +of fighting fiends, who wanted only their help in munitions of war to +enable them to rush on the vital parts of his dominions with all the +fell ferocity of men falling on their bitterest feudal enemy. Thus could +France, having under consideration the cost and peril of gallying an +invading army across the Straits, by money and management, do far more +damage to the enemy than any French invading expedition was likely to +accomplish. + +In an hour which did not prove propitious to France, a resolution was +adopted to invade England at both ends. Even before the truce was at an +end, the forges of Henault and Picardy were hard at work making +battle-axes; and all along the coast, from Harfleur to Sluys, there was +busy baking of biscuits and purveyance of provender. Early in spring an +expedition of a thousand men-at-arms, with their followers, put to sea +under John of Vienne, the Admiral of France, and arrived at Leith, +making a voyage which must have been signally prosperous, if we may +judge by the insignificance of the chief casualty on record concerning +it. In those days, as in the present, it appears that adventurous young +gentlemen on shipboard were apt to attempt feats for which their land +training did not adapt them—in nautical phrase, “to swing on all top +ropes.” A hopeful youth chose to perform such a feat in his armour, and +with the most natural of all results. “The knight was young and active, +and, to show his agility, he mounted aloft by the ropes of his ship, +completely armed; but his feet slipping he fell into the sea, and the +weight of his armour, which sank him instantly, deprived him of any +assistance, for the ship was soon at a distance from the place where he +had fallen.” + +The expedition soon found itself to be a mistake. In fact, to send +fighting men to Scotland was just to supply the country with that +commodity in which it superabounded. The great problem was how to find +food for the stalwart sons of the soil, and arms to put in their hands +when fighting was necessary. A percentage of the cost and labour of the +expedition, spent in sending money or munitions of war, would have done +better service. The scene before the adventurers was in lamentable +contrast to all that custom had made familiar to them. There were none +of the comfortable chateaux, the abundant markets, the carpets, down +beds, and rich hangings which gladdened their expeditions to the Low +Countries, whether they went as friends or foes. Nor was the same place +for _them_ in Scotland, which the Scots so readily found in France, +where a docile submissive peasantry only wanted vigorous and adventurous +masters. “The lords and their men,” says Froissart, “lodged themselves +as well as they could in Edinburgh, and those who could not lodge there +were quartered in the different villages thereabout. Edinburgh, +notwithstanding that it is the residence of the king, and is the Paris +of Scotland, is not such a town as Tournay and Valenciennes, for there +are not in the whole town four thousand houses. Several of the French +lords were therefore obliged to take up their lodgings in the +neighbouring villages, and at Dunfermline, Kelso, Dunbar, Dalkeith, and +in other towns.” When they had exhausted the provender brought with +them, these children of luxury had to endure the miseries of sordid +living, and even the pinch of hunger. They tried to console themselves +with the reflection that they had, at all events, an opportunity of +experiencing a phase of life which their parents had endeavoured +theoretically to impress upon them, in precepts to be thankful to the +Deity for the good things which they enjoyed, but which might not always +be theirs in a transitory world. They had been warned by the first +little band of adventurers that Scotland was not rich; yet the intense +poverty of the country whence so many daring adventurers had gone over +to ruffle it with the flower of European chivalry, astonished and +appalled them. Of the extreme and special nature of the poverty of +Scotland, the great war against the English invaders was the cause. It +has been estimated, indeed, by those devoted to such questions, that +Scotland did not recover fully from the ruin caused by that conflict +until the Union made her secure against her ambitious neighbour. It was +the crisis referred to in that pathetic ditty, the earliest specimen of +our lyrical poetry, when + + “Away was sonse of ale and bread, + Of wine and wax, of gaming and glee; + Our gold was changed into lead; + Cryst borne into virginity. + Succour poor Scotland and remede, + That stad is in perplexity.” + +It is not sufficiently known how much wealth and prosperity existed in +Scotland before King Edward trod its soil. Berwick, the chief commercial +port, had commerce with half the world, and bade fair to rival Ghent, +Rotterdam, and the other great mercantile cities of the Low Country. +Antiquarians have lately pointed to a sad and significant testimony to +the change of times. Of the ecclesiastical remains of Scotland, the +finest are either in the Norman, or the early English which preceded the +Edwards. These are the buildings of a noted and munificent people; they +rival the corresponding establishments in England, and are in the same +style as the work of nations having common interests and +sympathies—indeed the same architects seem to have worked in both +countries. At the time when the Gothic architecture of England merged +into the type called the Second Pointed, there ceased to be +corresponding specimens in Scotland. A long period, indeed, elapses +which has handed down to us no vestiges of church architecture in +Scotland, or only a few too trifling to possess any distinctive +character. When works of Gothic art begin again to arise with the +reviving wealth of the people, they are no longer of the English type, +but follow that flamboyant style which had been adopted by the +ecclesiastical builders of the country with which Scotland had most +concern—her steady patron and protector, France.[7] + +The poverty of the Scots proceeded from a cause of which they need not +have been ashamed; yet, with the reserve and pride ever peculiar to +them, they hated that it should be seen by their allies, and when these +showed any indications of contempt or derision, the natives were stung +to madness. Froissart renders very picturesquely the common talk about +the strangers, thus:—“What devil has brought them here? or, who has sent +for them? Cannot we carry on our wars with England without their +assistance? We shall never do any good as long as they are with us. Let +them be told to go back again, for we are sufficient in Scotland to +fight our own battles, and need not their aid. We neither understand +their language nor they ours, so that we cannot converse together. They +will very soon cut up and destroy all we have in this country, and will +do more harm if we allow them to remain among us than the English could +in battle. If the English do burn our houses, what great matter is it to +us? We can rebuild them at little cost, for we require only three days +to do so, so that we but have five or six poles, with boughs to cover +them.” + +The French knights, accustomed to abject submission among their own +peasantry, were loth to comprehend the fierce independence of the Scots +common people, and were ever irritating them into bloody reprisals. A +short sentence of Froissart’s conveys a world of meaning on this +specialty: “Besides, whenever their servants went out to forage, they +were indeed permitted to load their horses with as much as they could +pack up and carry, but they were waylaid on their return, and +villanously beaten, robbed, and sometimes slain, insomuch that no varlet +dare go out foraging for fear of death. In one month the French lost +upwards of a hundred varlets; for when three or four went out foraging, +not one returned, in such a hideous manner were they treated.” As we +have seen, a not unusual incident of purveying in France was, that the +husbandman was hung up by the heels and roasted before his own fire +until he disgorged his property. The Scots peasantry had a decided +prejudice against such a process, and, being accustomed to defend +themselves from all oppression, resisted even that of their allies, to +the extreme astonishment and wrath of those magnificent gentlemen. There +is a sweet unconsciousness in Froissart’s indignant denunciation of the +robbing of the purveyors, which meant the pillaged peasantry recovering +their own goods. But the chronicler was of a thorough knightly nature, +and deemed the peasantry of a country good for nothing but to be used +up. Hence, in his wrath, he says: “In Scotland you will never find a man +of worth; they are like savages, who wish not to be acquainted with any +one, and are too envious of the good fortune of others, and suspicious +of losing anything themselves, for their country is very poor. When the +English make inroads thither, as they have very frequently done, they +order their provisions, if they wish to live, to follow close at their +backs; for nothing is to be had in that country without great +difficulty. There is neither iron to shoe horses, nor leather to make +harness, saddles, or bridles; all these things come ready made from +Flanders by sea; and should these fail, there is none to be had in the +country.” What a magnificent contrast to such a picture is the present +relative condition of Scotland and the Low Countries! and yet these have +not suffered any awful reverse of fortune—they have merely abided in +stagnant respectability. + +It must be remembered, in estimating the chronicler’s pungent remarks +upon our poor ancestors, that he was not only a worshipper of rank and +wealth, but thoroughly English in his partialities, magnifying the feats +in arms of the great enemies of his own country. The records of the +Scots Parliament of 1395 curiously confirm the inference from his +narrative, that the French were oppressive purveyors, and otherwise +unobservant of the people’s rights. An indenture, as it is termed—the +terms of a sort of compact with the strangers—appears among the records, +conspicuous among their other Latin and vernacular contents as being set +forth in French, in courtesy, of course, to the strangers. It expressly +lays down that no goods of any kind shall be taken by force, under pain +of death, and none shall be received without being duly paid for—the +dealers having free access to come and go. There are regulations, too, +for suppressing broils by competent authority, and especially for +settling questions between persons of unequal degrees; a remedy for the +French practice, which left the settlement entirely with the superior. +This document is one of many showing that, in Scotland, there were +arrangements for protecting the personal freedom of the humbler classes, +and their rights of property, the fulness of which is little known, +because the like did not exist in other countries, and those who have +written philosophical treatises on the feudal system, or on the progress +of Europe from barbarism to civilisation, have generally lumped all the +countries of Europe together. The sense of personal freedom seems to +have been rather stronger in Scotland than in England; it was such as +evidently to astound the French knights. At the end of the affair, +Froissart expresses this surprise in his usual simple and expressive +way. After a second or third complaint of the unreasonable condition +that his countrymen should pay for the victuals they consumed, he goes +on, “The Scots said the French had done them more mischief than the +English;” and when asked in what manner, they replied, “By riding +through the corn, oats, and barley on their march, which they trod under +foot, not condescending to follow the roads, for which damage they would +have a recompense before they left Scotland, and they should neither +find vessel nor mariner who would dare to put to sea without their +permission.” + +Of the military events in the short war following the arrival of the +French, an outline will be found in the ordinary histories; but it was +attended by some conditions which curiously bring out the specialties of +the two nations so oddly allied. One propitiatory gift the strangers had +brought with them, which was far more highly appreciated than their own +presence; this was a thousand stand of accoutrements for men-at-arms. +They were of the highest excellence, being selected out of the store +kept in the Castle of Beauté for the use of the Parisians. When these +were distributed among the Scots knights, who were but poorly equipped, +the chronicler, as if he had been speaking of the prizes at a +Christmas-tree, tells how those who were successful and got them were +greatly delighted. The Scots did their part in their own way: they +brought together thirty thousand men, a force that drained the country +of its available manhood. But England had at that time nothing to divert +her arms elsewhere, and the policy adopted was to send northwards a +force sufficient to crush Scotland for ever. It consisted of seven +thousand mounted men-at-arms, and sixty thousand bow and bill men—a +force from three to four times as large as the armies that gained the +memorable English victories in France. Of these, Agincourt was still to +come off, but Crecy and Poictiers were over, along with many other +affairs that might have taught the French a lesson. The Scots, too, had +suffered two great defeats—Neville’s Cross and Halidon Hill—since their +great national triumph. The impression made on each country by their +experiences brought out their distinct national characteristics. The +French knights were all ardour and impatience; they clamoured to be at +the enemy without ascertaining the amount or character of his force. The +wretched internal wars of their own country had taught them to look on +the battle-field as the arena of reason in personal conflict, rather +than the great tribunal in which the fate of nations was to be decided, +and communities come forth freed or enslaved. + +To the Scots, on the other hand, the affair was one of national life or +death, and they would run no risks for distinction’s sake. Picturesque +accounts have often been repeated of a scene where Douglas, or some +other Scots leader, brought the Admiral to an elevated spot whence he +could see and estimate the mighty host of England; but the most +picturesque of all the accounts is the original by Froissart, of which +the others are parodies. The point in national tactics brought out by +this incident is the singular recklessness with which the French must +have been accustomed to do battle. In total ignorance of the force he +was to oppose, and not seeking to know aught concerning it, the +Frenchman’s voice was still for war. When made to see with his own eyes +what he had to encounter, he was as reluctant as his companions to risk +the issue of a battle, but not so fertile in expedients for carrying on +the war effectively without one. The policy adopted was to clear the +country before the English army as it advanced, and carry everything +portable and valuable within the recesses of the mountain-ranges, +whither the inhabitants not fit for military service went with their +effects. A desert being thus opened for the progress of the invaders, +they were left to wander in it unmolested while the Scots army went in +the opposite direction, and crossed the Border southwards. Thus the +English army found Scotland empty—the Scots army found England full. The +one wore itself out in a fruitless march, part of it straggling, it was +said, as far as Aberdeen, and returned thinned and starving, while the +other was only embarrassed by the burden of its plunder. Much +destruction there was, doubtless, on both sides, but it fell heaviest +where there was most to destroy, and gratified at last in some measure +the French, who “said among themselves they had burned in the bishoprics +of Durham and Carlisle more than the value of all the towns in the +kingdom of Scotland.” But havoc does not make wealth, and whether or not +the Scots knew better from experience how to profit by such +opportunities, the French, when they returned northward, were starving. +Their object now was to get out of the country as fast as they could. +Froissart, with a touch of dry humour, explains that their allies had no +objection to speed the exit of the poorer knights, but resolved to hold +the richer and more respectable in a sort of pawn for the damage which +the expedition had inflicted on the common people. The Admiral asked his +good friends the Lords Douglas and Moray to put a stop to these demands; +but these good knights were unable to accommodate their brethren in this +little matter, and the Admiral was obliged to give effectual pledges +from his Government for the payment of the creditors. There is something +in all this that seems utterly unchivalrous and even ungenerous; but it +had been well for France had Froissart been able to tell a like story of +her peasantry. It merely shows us that our countrymen of that day were +of those who “knew their rights, and, knowing, dared maintain them;” and +was but a demonstration on a humbler, and, if you will, more sordid +shape, of the same spirit that had swept away the Anglo-Norman invaders. +The very first act which their chronicler records concerning his +knightly friends, after he has exhausted his wrath against the hard and +mercenary Scot, is thoroughly suggestive. Some of the knights tried +other fields of adventure, “but the greater number returned to France, +and were so poor they knew not how to remount themselves, especially +those from Burgundy, Champagne, Bar, and Lorraine, _who seized the +labouring horses wherever they found them in the fields_,” so impatient +were they to regain their freedom of action. + +So ended this affair, with the aspect of evil auspices for the alliance. +The adventurers returned “cursing Scotland, and the hour they had set +foot there. They said they had never suffered so much in any expedition, +and wished the King of France would make a truce with the English for +two or three years, and then march to Scotland and utterly destroy it; +for never had they seen such wicked people, nor such ignorant hypocrites +and traitors.” But the impulsive denunciation of the disappointed +adventurers was signally obliterated in the history of the next +half-century. Ere many more years had passed over them, that day of +awful trial was coming when France had to lean on the strong arm of her +early ally; and, in fact, some of the denouncers lived to see +adventurers from the sordid land of their contempt and hatred commanding +the armies of France, and owning her broad lordships. It was, in fact, +just after the return of Vienne’s expedition, that the remarkable +absorption of Scotsmen into the aristocracy of France, referred to in +our preceding paper, began to set in. + +This episode of the French expedition to Scotland, small though its +place is in the annals of Europe, yet merits the consideration of the +thoughtful historian, in affording a significant example of the real +causes of the misery and degradation of France at that time, and the +wonderful victories of the English kings. Chivalry, courage, the love of +enterprise, high spirit in all forms, abounded to superfluity among the +knightly orders, but received no solid support from below. The mounted +steel-clad knights of the period, in the highest physical condition, +afraid of nothing on the earth or beyond it, and burning for triumph and +fame, could perform miraculous feats of strength and daring; but all +passed off in wasted effort and vain rivalry, when there was wanting the +bold peasantry, who, with their buff jerkins, and their bills and bows, +or short Scottish spears, were the real force by which realms were held +or gained. + +The next affair in which M. Michel notes his countrymen as present among +us, was a very peculiar and exceptional one, with features only too like +those which were such a scandal to the social condition of France. It +was that great battle or tournament on the North Inch of Perth, where +opposite Highland factions, called the clan Quhele and clan Chattan, +were pitted against each other, thirty to thirty—an affair, the darker +colours of which are lighted up by the eccentric movements of the Gow +Chrom, or bandy-legged smith of Perth, who took the place of a defaulter +in one of the ranks, to prevent the spectacle of the day from being +spoilt. That such a contest should have been organised to take place in +the presence of the king and court, under solemnities and regulations +like some important ordeal, has driven historical speculators to +discover what deep policy for the pacification or subjugation of the +Highlands lay behind it. The feature that gives it a place in M. +Michel’s book, is the briefest possible notification by one of the +chroniclers, that a large number of Frenchmen and other strangers were +present at the spectacle. This draws us back from the mysterious arcana +of political intrigue to find a mere showy pageant, got up to enliven +the hours of idle mirth—an act, in short, of royal hospitality—a show +cunningly adapted to the tastes of the age, yet having withal the +freshness of originality, being a renaissance kind of combination of the +gladiatorial conflict of the Roman circus with the tournament of +chivalry. The Highlanders were, in fact, the human raw material which a +king of Scots could in that day employ, so far as their nature suited, +for the use or the amusement of his guests. Them, and them only among +his subjects, could he use as the Empire used the Transalpine +barbarian—“butchered to make a Roman holiday.” The treatment of the Celt +is the blot in that period of our history. Never in later times has the +Red Indian or Australian native been more the hunted wild beast to the +emigrant settler, than the Highlander was to his neighbour the +Lowlander. True, he was not easily got at, and, when reached, he was +found to have tusks. They were a people never permitted to be at rest +from external assault; yet such was their nature that, instead of being +pressed by a common cause into compact union, they were divided into +communities that hated each other almost more bitterly than the common +enemy. This internal animosity has suggested that the king wanted two +factions to exterminate each other as it were symbolically, and accept +the result of a combat between two bodies of chosen champions, as if +there had been an actual stricken field, with all the able-bodied men on +both sides engaged in it. It was quite safe to calculate that when the +representatives of the two contending factions were set face to face on +the green sward, they would fly at each other’s throats, and afford in +an abundant manner to the audience whatever delectation might arise from +an intensely bloody struggle. But, on the other hand, to expect the +Highlanders to be fools enough to accept this sort of symbolical +extinction of their quarrel was too preposterous a deduction for any +practical statesman. They had no notion of leaving important issues to +the event of single combat, or any of the other preposterous rules of +chivalry, but slew their enemies where they could, and preferred doing +so secretly, and without risk to themselves, when that was practicable. + +As we read on the history of the two countries, France and Scotland, we +shall find the national friendship which had arisen in their common +adversity gradually and almost insensibly changing its character. The +strong current of migration from Scotland which had set in during the +latter period of the hundred years’ war stopped almost abruptly. +Scotsmen were still hired as soldiers—sometimes got other +appointments—and, generally speaking, were received with hospitality; +but in Louis XI.’s reign, the time had passed when they were accepted in +the mass as a valuable contribution to the aristocracy of France, and +forthwith invested with titles and domains. The families that had thus +settled down remembered the traditions of their origin, but had no +concern with Scotland, and were thoroughly French, nationally and +socially. France, too, was aggregating into a compact nationality, to +which her sons could attach themselves with some thrill of patriotic +pride. She made a great stride onward both in nationality and prosperity +during the reign of that hard, greedy, penurious, crafty, superstitious +hypocrite, Louis XI. By a sort of slow corroding process he ate out, bit +by bit, the powers and tyrannies that lay between his own and the +people. Blood, even the nearest, was to him nowise thicker than water, +so he did not, like his predecessors, let royal relations pick up what +territorial feudatories dropped; he took all to himself, and, taking it +to himself, it became that French empire which was to be inherited by +Francis I., Louis XIV., and even the Napoleons; for he seems to have had +the principal hand in jointing and fitting in the subordinate machinery +of that centralisation which proved compact enough in its details to be +put together again after the smash of the Revolution, and which has +proved itself as yet the only system under which France can flourish. + +Scotland was, at the same time, rising under a faint sunshine of +prosperity—a sort of reflection of that enjoyed by France. The +connection of the poor with the rich country was becoming ever more +close, but at the same time it was acquiring an unwholesome character. +The two could not fuse into each other as England and Scotland did; and, +for all the pride of the Scots, and their strong hold over France, as +the advanced-guard mounted upon England, the connection could not but +lapse into a sort of clientage—the great nation being the patron, the +small nation the dependant. Whether for good or evil, France infused +into Scotland her own institutions, which, being those of the Roman +Empire, as practised throughout the Christian nations of the Continent, +made Scotsmen free of those elements of social communion, that _amitas +gentium_, from which England excluded herself in sulky pride. This is +visible, or rather audible, at the present day, in the Greek and Latin +of the Scotsmen of the old school, who can make themselves understood +all over the world; while the English pronunciation, differing from that +of the nations which have preserved the chief deposits of the classic +languages in their own, must as assuredly differ from the way in which +these were originally spoken. The Englishman disdained the universal +Justinian jurisprudence, and would be a law unto himself, which he +called, with an affectation of humility, “The Common Law.” It is full, +no doubt, of patches taken out of the ‘Corpus Juris,’ but, far from +their source being acknowledged, the civilians are never spoken of by +the common lawyers but to be railed at and denounced; and when great +draughts on the Roman system were found absolutely necessary to keep the +machine of justice in motion, these were entirely elbowed out of the way +by common law, and had to form themselves into a separate machinery of +their own, called Equity. Scotland, on the other hand, received +implicitly from her leader in civilisation the great body of the civil +law, as collected and arranged by the most laborious of all labouring +editors, Denis Godefroi. We brought over also an exact facsimile of the +French system of public prosecution for crime, from the great state +officer at the head of the system to the Procureurs du Roi. It is still +in full practice and eminently useful; but it is an arrangement that, to +be entirely beneficial, needs to be surrounded by constitutional +safeguards; and though there has been much pressure of late to establish +it in England, one cannot be surprised that it was looked askance at +while the great struggles for fixing the constitution were in progress. + +The practice of the long-forgotten States-General of France was an +object of rather anxious inquiry at the reassembling of that body in +1789, after they had been some four centuries and a half in a state of +adjournment or dissolution. The investigations thus occasioned brought +out many peculiarities which were in practical observance in Scotland +down to the Union. All the world has read of that awful crisis arising +out of the question whether the Estates should vote collectively or +separately. Had the question remained within the bounds of reason and +regulation, instead of being virtually at the issue of the sword, much +instructive precedent would have been obtained for its settlement by an +examination of the proceedings of that Parliament of Scotland which +adjusted the Union—an exciting matter also, yet, to the credit of our +country, discussed with perfect order, and obedience to rules of +practice which, derived from the custom of the old States-General of +France, were rendered pliant and adaptable by such a long series of +practical adaptations as the country of their nativity was not permitted +to witness. + +There was a very distinct adaptation of another French institution of +later origin, when the Court of Session was established in 1533. Before +that, the king’s justices administered the law somewhat as in England, +but there was an appeal to Parliament; and as that body did its judicial +work by committees, these became virtually the supreme courts of the +realm. If the reader wants to have assurance that there is something +really sound in this information, by receiving it in the current coin of +its appropriate technicalities, let him commit to memory that the chief +standing committee was named that of the _Domini auditorii ad querelas_. +When he uses that term, nobody will question the accuracy of what he +says. The Court of Session, established to supersede this kind of +tribunal, was exactly a French parliament—a body exercising appellate +judicial functions, along with a few others of a legislative +character—few in this country, but in France sufficiently extensive to +render the assembling of the proper Parliament of the land and the +States-General unnecessary for all regal purposes. + +In other institutions—the universities, for instance—we find not merely +the influence of French example, but an absolute importation of the +whole French structure and discipline. The University of King’s College +in Aberdeen was constructed on the model of the great University of +Paris. Its founder, Bishop Elphinston, had taught there for many years; +so had its first principal, Hector Boece, the most garrulous and +credulous of historians. The transition from the Paris to the Aberdeen +of that day, must have been a descent not to be estimated by the present +relative condition of the two places; and one cannot be surprised to +find Hector saying that he was seduced northwards by gifts and promises. +It is probable that we would find fewer actual living remnants of the +old institution in Paris itself than in the northern imitation. There +may be yet found the offices of regent and censor, for the qualities of +which one must search in the mighty folios of _Bullæus_. There survives +the division into nations—the type of the unlimited hospitality of the +university as a place where people of all nations assembled to drink at +the fountain of knowledge. There also the youth who flashes forth, for +the first time, in his scarlet plumage, is called a _bejeant_, not +conscious, perhaps, that the term was used to the first-session students +of the French universities hundreds of years ago, and that it is derived +by the learned from _bec jaune_, or yellow nib. If the reader is of a +sentimentally domestic turn, he may find in the term the conception of +an _alma mater_, shielding the innocent brood from surrounding dangers; +and if he be knowing and sarcastic, he may suppose it to refer to a +rawness and amenability to be trotted out, expressed in the present day +by the synonymous _freshman_ and _greenhorn_. + +There is a still more distinct stamp of a French type, in the +architecture of our country, so entirely separate from the English +style, in the flamboyant Gothic of the churches, and the rocket-topped +turrets of the castles; but on this specialty we shall not here enlarge, +having, in some measure, examined it several years ago.[8] It was not +likely that all these, with many other practices, should be imported +into the nation, however gradually, without the people having a +consciousness that they were foreign. They were not established without +the aid of men, showing, by their air and ways, that they and their +practices were alike alien. He, however, who gave the first flagrant +offence, in that way, to the national feeling, was a descendant of one +of the emigrant Scots of the fifteenth century, and by blood and rank +closely allied to the Scottish throne, although every inch a Frenchman. + +To watch in history the action and counteraction of opposing forces +which have developed some grand result, yet by a slight and not +improbable impulse the other way might have borne towards an opposite +conclusion equally momentous, is an interesting task, with something in +it of the excitement of the chase. In pursuing the traces which bring +Scotland back to her English kindred, and saved her from a permanent +annexation to France, the arrival of John Duke of Albany in Scotland, in +1515, is a critical turning-point. Already had the seed of the union +with England been planted when James IV. got for a wife the daughter of +Henry VII. Under the portrait of this sagacious king, Bacon wrote the +mysterious motto—_Cor regis inscrutabile_. It would serve pleasantly to +lighten up and relieve a hard and selfish reputation, if one could +figure him, in the depths of his own heart, assuring himself of having +entered in the books of fate a stroke of policy that at some date, +however distant, was destined to appease the long bloody contest of two +rival nations, and unite them into a compact and mighty empire. The +prospects of such a consummation were at first anything but encouraging. +The old love broke in counteracting the prudential policy; and, indeed, +never did besotted lover abandon himself to wilder folly than James IV., +when, at the bidding of Anne of France as the lady of his chivalrous +worship, he resolved to be her true knight, and take three steps into +English ground. When a chivalrous freak, backed by a few political +irritations scarce less important, strewed the moor of Flodden with the +flower of the land, it was time for Scotland to think over the +rationality of this distant alliance, which deepened and perpetuated her +feud with her close neighbour of kindred blood. Well for him, the good, +easy, frank, chivalrous monarch, that he was buried in the ruin he had +made, and saw not the misery of a desolated nation. Of the totally alien +object for which all the mischief had been done, there was immediate +evidence in various shapes. One curious little item of it is brought out +by certain researches of M. Michel, which have also a significant +bearing on the conflict between the secular and the papal power in the +disposal of benefices. The Pope, Julius II., was anxious to gain over to +his interest Mathew Lang, bishop of Gorz, and secretary to the Emperor +Maximilian, who was called to Rome and blessed by the vision of a +cardinal’s hat, and the papal influence in the first high promotion that +might open. The archbishopric of Bourges became vacant. The chapter +elected one of our old friends of the Scots emigrant families, Guillaume +de Monypeny, brother of the Lord of Concressault; but the King, Louis +XII., at first stood out for Brillac, bishop of Orleans, resisted by the +chapter. The bishop of Gorz then came forward with a force sufficient to +sweep away both candidates. He was favoured of the Pope: his own master, +Maximilian, desired for his secretary this foreign benefice, which would +cost himself nothing; and Louis found somehow that the bishop was as +much his own humble servant as the Emperor’s. No effect of causes +sufficient seemed in this world more assured than that Mathew Lang, +bishop of Gorz, should also be archbishop of Bourges; but the fortune of +war rendered it before his collation less important to have the bishop +of Gorz in the archiepiscopate than another person. The King laid his +hand again on the chapter, and required them to postulate one whose name +and condition must have seemed somewhat strange to them—Andrew Forman, +bishop of Moray, in the north of Scotland. There are reasons for all +things. Forman was ambassador from Scotland to France, and thus had +opportunities of private communication with James IV. and Louis XII. +This latter, in a letter to the Chapter of Bourges, explains his signal +obligations to Forman for having seconded the allurements of the Queen, +and instigated the King of Scots to make war against England, explaining +how _icelui, Roy d’Escosse s’est ouvertement declaré vouloir tenir +nostre party et faire la guerre actuellement contre le Roy +d’Angleterre_. Lest the chapter should doubt the accuracy of this +statement of the services performed to France by Forman, the King sent +them _le double des lectres que le dict Roy d’Escosse nous a escriptes +et aussi de la defiance q’il a fait au dict Roy d’Angleterre_. The King +pleaded hard with the chapter to postulate Forman, representing that +they could not find a better means of securing his own countenance and +protection. The Scotsman backed this royal appeal by a persuasive +letter, which he signed Andrè, _Arcevesque de Bourges et Evesque de +Morray_. Influence was brought to bear on the Pope himself, and he +declared his leaning in favour of Forman. The members of the chapter, +who had been knocked about past endurance in the affair of the +archbishopric from first to last, threatened resistance and martyrdom; +but the pressure of the powers combined against them brought them to +reason, and Forman entered Bourges in archiepiscopal triumph. But the +ups and downs of the affair were as yet by no means at an end. That +great pontiff, who never forgot that the head of the Church was a +temporal prince, Leo X., had just ascended the throne, and found that it +would be convenient to have this archbishopric of Bourges for his +nephew, Cardinal Abo. By good luck the see of St Andrews, the primacy of +Scotland, was then vacant, and was given as an equivalent for the French +dignity. Such a promotion was a symbolically appropriate reward for the +services of Forman; his predecessor fell at Flodden, and thus, in his +services to the King of France, he had made a vacancy for himself. He +had for some time in his pocket, afraid to show it, the Pope’s bull +appointing him Archbishop of St Andrews and Primate of Scotland. This +was a direct act of interference contrary to law and custom, since the +function of the Pope was only to collate or confirm, as ecclesiastical +superior, the choice made by the local authorities. These had their +favourite for the appointment, Prior Hepburn, who showed his earnestness +in his own cause by taking and holding the Castle of St Andrews. A +contest of mingled ecclesiastical and civil elements, too complex to be +disentangled, followed; but in the end Forman triumphed, having on his +side the efforts of the King of France and his servant Albany, with the +Pope’s sense of justice. The rewards of this highly endowed divine were +the measure alike of his services to France and of his injuries to +Scotland. He held, by the way, _in commendam_, a benefice in England; +and as he had a good deal of diplomatic business with Henry VIII., it +may not uncharitably be supposed that he sought to feather his hat with +English as well as French plumage. It was in the midst of these affairs, +which were bringing out the dangerous and disastrous elements in the +French alliance, that Albany arrived. + +Albany’s father, the younger brother of James III., had lived long in +France, got great lordships there, and thoroughly assimilated himself to +the Continental system. He married Anne de la Tour, daughter of the +Count of Auvergne and Boulogne, of a half princely family, which became +afterwards conspicuous by producing Marshal Turenne, and at a later +period the eccentric grenadier, Latour d’Auvergne, who, in homage to +republican principles, would not leave the subaltern ranks in Napoleon’s +army, and became more conspicuous by remaining there than many who +escaped from that level to acquire wealth and power. The sister of Anne +de la Tour married Lorenzo de Medici, Duke of Urbino. From this +connection Albany was the uncle of Catherine de Medici, the renowned +Queen of France, and, in fact, was the nearest relative, who, as folks +used to say in this country, “gave her away” to Henry II. On this +occasion he got a cardinal’s hat for Philip de la Chambre, his mother’s +son by a second marriage. He lived thoroughly in the midst of the +Continental royalties of the day, and had the sort of repute among them +that may be acquired by a man of great influence and connection, whose +capacity has never been tried by any piece of critical business—a repute +that comes to persons in a certain position by a sort of process of +gravitation. Brave he seems to have been, like all his race, and he +sometimes held even important commands. He accompanied his friend, +Francis I., in his unfortunate raid into Italy in 1525, and was +fortunately and honourably clear of that bad business, the battle of +Pavia, by being then in command of a detachment sent against Naples. + +There are men who, when they shift their place and function, can +assimilate themselves to the changed conditions around them—who can find +themselves surrounded by unwonted customs and ways, and yet accept the +condition that the men who follow these are pursuing the normal +condition of their being, and must be left to do so in peace, otherwise +harm will come of it; and in this faculty consists the instinct which +enables men to govern races alien to their own. Albany did not possess +it. He appears to have been ignorant of the language of Scotland, and to +have thought or rather felt that, wherever he was, all should be the +same as in the midst of Italian and French courtiers; and if it were not +so, something was wrong, and should be put right. It was then the +commencement of a very luxurious age in France—an age of rich and showy +costumes, of curls, perfumes, cosmetics, and pet spaniels—and Albany was +the leader of fashion in all such things. It is needless to say how +powerfully all this contrasted with rough Scotland—what a shocking set +of barbarians he found himself thrown among—how contemptible to the +rugged Scots nobles was the effeminate Oriental luxury of the little +court he imported from Paris, shifted northwards as some wealthy +luxurious sportsman takes a detachment from his stable, kennel, and +servants’ hall, to a bothy in the Highlands. + +He arrived, however, in a sort of sunshine. At that calamitous moment +the nearest relation of the infant king, a practised statesman, was +heartily welcome. He brought a small rather brilliant fleet with him, +which was dignified by his high office as Admiral of France; he brought +also some money and valuable trifles, which were not inacceptable. Wood, +in his ‘Peerage,’ tells us that “The peers and chiefs crowded to his +presence: his exotic elegance of manners, his condescension, affability, +and courtesy of demeanour, won all hearts.” If so, these were not long +retained. He came, indeed, just before some tangible object was wanted +against which to direct the first sulky feelings of the country towards +France; and he served the purpose exactly, for his own handiwork was the +cause of that feeling. In a new treaty between France and England, in +which he bore a great if not the chief part, Scotland was for the first +time treated as a needy and troublesome hanger-on of France. Instead of +the old courtesy, which made Scotland, nominally at least, an +independent party to the treaty, it was made directly by France, but +Scotland was comprehended in it, with a warning that if there were any +of the old raids across the Border, giving trouble as they had so often +done, the Scots should forfeit their part in the treaty. This patronage +during good behaviour roused the old pride, and was one of many symptoms +that Albany had come to them less as the representative of their own +independent line of kings, than as the administrator of a distant +province of the French empire. The humiliation was all the more bitter +from the deep resentments that burned in the people’s hearts after the +defeat of Flodden, and it was with difficulty that the Estates brought +themselves to say that, though Scotland believed herself able +single-handed to avenge her losses, yet, out of respect for the old +friendship of France, the country would consent to peace with England. + +Setting to work after the manner of one possessed of the same supreme +authority as the King of France, Albany began his government with an air +of rigour, insomuch that the common historians speak of him as having +resolved to suppress the turbulent spirit of the age, and assert the +supremacy of law and order. He thus incurred the reputation of a +grasping tyrant. The infant brother of the king died suddenly; his +mother said Albany had poisoned the child, and people shuddered for his +brother, now standing alone between the Regent and the throne, and +talked ominously of the manner in which Richard III. of England was +popularly believed to have achieved the crown by murdering his nephews. +It is from this period that we may date the rise of a really English +party in Scotland—a party who feared the designs of the French, and who +thought that, after having for two hundred years maintained her +independence, Scotland might with fair honour be combined with the +country nearest to her and likest in blood, should the succession to +both fall to one prince, and that it would be judicious to adjust the +royal alliances in such a manner as to bring that to pass. Such thoughts +were in the mean time somewhat counteracted by the lightheaded doings of +her who was the nation’s present tie to England—the Queen-Dowager—whose +grotesque and flagrant love-affairs are an amusing episode, especially +to those who love the flavour of ancient scandal; while all gracious +thoughts that turned themselves towards England were met in the teeth by +the insults and injuries which her savage brother, Henry VIII., +continued to pile upon the country. + +Up to this point it does not happen to us to have noted instances of +offices of emolument in Scotland given to Frenchmen, and the fuss made +about one instance of the kind leads to the supposition that they must +have been rare. Dunbar the poet, who was in priest’s orders, was +exceedingly clamorous in prose and in verse—in the serious and in the +comic vein—for preferment. Perhaps he was the kind of person whom it is +as difficult to prefer in the Church as it was to make either Swift or +Sydney Smith a bishop. His indignation was greatly roused by the +appointment of a foreigner whom he deemed beset by his own special +failings, but in far greater intensity, to the abbacy of Tungland; and +he committed his griefs to a satirical poem, called ‘The fenyet Freir of +Tungland.’ The object of this poem has been set down by historians as an +Italian, but M. Michel indicates him as a countryman of his own, by the +name of Jean Damien. He is called a charlatan, quack, and mountebank, +and might, perhaps, with equal accuracy, be called a devotee of natural +science, who speculated ingeniously and experimented boldly. He was in +search of the philosopher’s stone, and believed himself to be so close +on its discovery that he ventured to embark the money of King James IV., +and such other persons as participated in his own faith, in the +adventure to realise the discovery, and saturate all the partners in +riches indefinite. This was a speculation of a kind in which many men of +that age indulged; and they were men not differing from others except in +their scientific attainments, adventurous propensities, and sanguine +temperaments. The class still exists among us, though dealing rather in +iron than gold; as if we had in the history of speculation, from the +alchemists down to Capel Court, something that has been prophesied in +that beautiful mythological sequence liked so much at all schools, +beginning— + + “Aurea prima sata est ætas, quæ vindice nullo + Sponte sua sine lege fidem rectumque colebat.” + +It might be a fair question whether the stranger’s science is so +obsolete as the style of literature in which he is attacked, since +Dunbar’s satirical poem, among other minor indications of a character +unsuited to the higher offices in the Christian ministry, insinuates +that the adventurer committed several murders; and although, the charge +is made in a sort of rough jocularity, the force of it does not by any +means rest on its absurdity and incredibility. He was accused of a mad +project for extracting gold from the Wanlockhead Hills, in +Dumfriesshire, which cannot be utterly scorned in the present day, since +gold has actually been extracted from them, though, the process has not +returned twenty shillings to the pound. This curious creature completed +his absurdities by the construction of a pair of wings, with which he +was to take a delightful aerial excursion to his native country. He +proved his sincerity by starting in full feather from Stirling Castle. +In such affairs it is, as Madame du Deffaud said about that walk taken +by St Denis round Paris with his own head for a burden, _le premier pas +qui coute_. The poor adventurer tumbled at once, and was picked up with +a broken thigh-bone. Such is the only Frenchman who became conspicuous +before Albany’s time as holding rank and office in Scotland. + +Albany had not long rubbed on with the Scots Estates when he found that +he really must go to Paris, and as there seems to have been no business +concerning Scotland that he could transact there, an uncontrollable +yearning to be once more in his own gay world is the only motive we can +find for his trip. The Estates of Scotland were in a surly humour, and +not much inclined to allow him his holidays. They appointed a council of +regency to act for him. He, however, as if he knew nothing about the +constitutional arrangements in Scotland, appointed a sort of +representative, who cannot have known more about the condition and +constitution of Scotland than his constituent, though he had been one of +the illustrious guests present at the marriage of James IV. He was +called by Pitscottie ‘Monsieur Tilliebattie,’ but his full name was +Antoine d’Arces de la Bastie, and he had been nicknamed or +distinguished, as the case might be, as the Chevalier Blanc, or White +Knight, like the celebrated Joannes Corvinus, the Knight of Wallachia, +whose son became king of Hungary. M. Michel calls him the “_chivalresque +et brillant La Bastie, chez qui le guerrier et l’homme d’état etaient +encore supérieurs au champion des tournois_.” He was a sort of fanatic +for the old principle of chivalry, then beginning to disappear before +the breath of free inquiry, and the active useful pursuits it was +inspiring. M. Michel quotes from a contemporary writer, who describes +him as perambulating Spain, Portugal, England, and France, and +proclaiming himself ready to meet all comers of sufficient rank, not +merely to break a lance in chivalrous courtesy, but _à combattre à +l’outrance_—an affair which even at that time was too important to be +entered on as a frolic, or to pass an idle hour, but really required +some serious justification. No one, it is said, accepted the challenge +but the cousin of James IV. of Scotland, who is said to have been +conquered, but not killed, as from the nature of the challenge he should +have been; but this story seems to be a mistake by the contemporary, and +M. Michel merely quotes it without committing himself. + +Such was the person left by the regent as his representative, though +apparently with no specific office or powers acknowledged by the +constitution of Scotland. Research might perhaps afford new light to +clear up the affair, but at present the only acknowledgment of his +existence, bearing anything like an official character, are entries in +the Scots treasurer’s accounts referred to by M. Michel, one of them +authorising a payment of fifteen shillings to a messenger to the warden +of the middle march, “with my lord governor’s letters delivered by +Monsr. Labawte;” another payment to his servant for summoning certain +barons and gentlemen to repair to Edinburgh; and a payment of twenty +shillings, for a service of more import, is thus entered:—“Item, +deliverit be Monsieur Lawbawtez to Johne Langlandis, letters of our +sovereign lords to summon and warn all the thieves and broken men out of +Tweeddale and Eskdale in their own country—quhilk letters were +proclaimed at market-cross of Roxburgh, Selkirk, and Jedwood.” + +This proclamation seems to have been the deadly insult which sealed his +fate. The borders had hardly yet lost their character of an independent +district, which might have merged into something like a German +margravate. There had been always some family holding a preponderating +and almost regal power there. At this time it was the Homes or Humes, a +rough set, with their hands deeply dipped in blood, who little dreamed +that their name would be known all over Europe by the fame of a fat +philosopher sitting writing in a peaceful library with a goosequill, and +totally innocent of the death of a fellow-being. It was one of Albany’s +rigorous measures to get the leaders of this clan “untopped,” to use one +of Queen Elizabeth’s amiable pleasantries. This was a thing to be +avenged; and since La Bastie was taking on himself the responsibilities +of Albany, it was thought as well that he should not evade this portion +of them. To lure him within their reach, a sort of mock fight was got up +by the borderers in the shape of the siege of one of their peel towers. +Away went La Bastie in all his bravery, dreaming, simple soul, as if he +were in Picardy or Tourain, that the mere name of royalty would at once +secure peace and submission. His eye, practised in scenes of danger, at +once saw murder in the gaze of those he had ventured among, and he set +spurs to his good horse, hoping to reach his headquarters in the strong +castle of Dunbar. The poor fellow, however, ignorant of the country, and +entirely unaided, was overtaken in a bog. It is said that he tried +cajoling, threats, and appeals to honour and chivalrous feeling. As well +speak to a herd of hungry wolves as to those grim ministers of +vengeance! The Laird of Wedderburn, a Home, enjoyed the distinction of +riding with the Frenchman’s head, tied by its perfumed tresses at his +saddle-bow, into the town of Dunse, where the trophy was nailed to the +market-cross. As old Pitscottie has it, “his enemies came upon him, and +slew and murdered him very unhonestly, and cutted off his head, and +carried it with them; and it was said that he had long hair platt over +his neck, whilk David Home of Wedderburn twust to his saddle-bow, and +keeped it.” + +This affair brought Scotland into difficulties both with England and +France. Henry VIII. professed himself displeased that a French +adventurer should have been set up as ruler in his nephew’s kingdom, and +Francis I., who had just mounted the throne of France, demanded +vengeance on the murderers of his distinguished subject, with whose +chivalrous spirit he had a congenial sympathy. There is an exceedingly +curious and suggestive correspondence between France and Scotland at the +commencement of M. Teulet’s papers, which has been aptly compared to the +papers that have been returned to Parliament by our Indian Government on +the negotiations with some wily Affghan or Scinde chief, in which +reparation is demanded for outrages on a British subject. There is much +fussy desire to comply with the demands of the great power, but ever a +difficulty, real or pretended, in getting anything done; and probably it +often is in the East, as it then was in Scotland, that the difficulty in +punishing a set of powerful culprits has a better foundation in their +power of self-defence than the government is inclined to acknowledge. +Evil days, however, for a time clouded the rising sun of France. The +battle of Pavia seemed to set her prostrate for the time; and when +Scotland, having then many inducements the other way, was reminded of +the old alliance, she answered the appeal with her old zeal. + +This article does not aspire to the dignity of history. It has dealt +chiefly with the under current, as it were, of the events connected with +the doings of the French in Scotland—the secondary incidents, which show +how the two nations got on together in their familiar intercourse. Their +intercourse, however, now developes itself in large historical features, +to which it is thought fitting to offer, in conclusion, a general +reference, merely hinting at their connection with the preceding +details. Ostensibly, and as matter of state policy, the old alliance was +so strong that it seemed as if Scotland were drifting under the lee of +France to be a mere colony or dependency of that grand empire—though +there were influences at work which, in reality, utterly defeated this +expected consummation. There was a brilliant wedding when James V. went +to bring home Madeleine of France; and was so honoured that, according +to the documents given by M. Teulet, the officers charged with the +traditions of state precedents grumbled about this prince of a northern +island, who knew no civilised language, receiving honours which had +heretofore been deemed sacred to the royal blood of France. The national +policy that held by this marriage would have had but a frail tenure, for +poor Madeleine soon drooped and died. She had said, as a girl, that she +wanted to be a queen, be the realm she ruled what it might; and so she +had a brief experience—this word seems preferable to enjoyment—of the +throne of cold uncomfortable Scotland. There was speedily another +wedding, bearing in the direction of the French alliance, for that was +still uppermost with the governing powers, whatever it might be with the +English and Protestant party daily acquiring strength among the district +leaders, nobles or lairds. It may have seemed to these, that when the +queen was no longer a daughter of France, but a young lady, the child of +one feudatory and the widow of another, with no better claim to share +the throne than her beautiful face, there was no further danger from +France. But the young queen was a Guise—one of that wonderful race who +seemed advancing onwards, not only to the supreme command of France, but +to something still greater, for they have been known in their boasting +to speak of their house being directly descended from Charlemagne. When +the daughter was Queen of France, and the mother ruled Scotland, the +time for the final annexation seemed close at hand; but, in reality, the +climax had been reached, and the French interest was near to its +downfall. While the queen-mother was taking possession of the feudal +strongholds, and placing all the high offices of state in the hands of +Frenchmen—D’Oysells, de Rubays, Villemores, and the like—in France the +proper method of governing Scotland was considered in council as a +matter of French policy; and the question was discussed whether Scotland +should have the honour of belonging to the crown of France, or should be +a provision for a younger son of the house of Valois. + +Those busy politicians, called the Lords of the Congregation, knew these +things, and were stimulated to exertion accordingly. Hence came it to +pass that the Reformation was so sudden an event in Scotland. On the +morning of the 1st of August 1560 the people of Scotland awakened under +the spiritual dominion of the Pope—ere evening his hierarchy was +abolished, and to own it was criminal. The work of that day was not a +deliberative act of legislation, but the announcement of the triumph of +a party. After a long deadly contest the English party had gained a +complete and final victory. It almost enhanced the triumph over French +principles that the Acts of this Parliament never received the royal +assent. Legislation without the intervention of the crown, was flat +rebellion in the eyes of France, and not very reconcilable even with +English decorum. It was owing to this specialty that, when Queen Mary +engaged to support the religion established by law in Scotland, she was +suspected, and not without reason, of stowing away, among the secrets of +her heart, the consideration likely to be some day available, that +Protestantism, not having the sanction of the crown, was not the +religion established by law. If we were to enter with any fulness on +this great passage in history, and to view it through the rich new light +poured upon it by the documents collected by M. Teulet, we would require +more room than the quite sufficient space which this article occupies. +We have opportunity only for this brief reference to them, as the +winding-up and conclusion of that interesting episode in history—the old +alliance between France and Scotland. + +Before parting, let us say a word on the personal character and other +merits of the volumes which have led us on this occasion to look into +the connection of our ancestors with the French, and have furnished us +with the greater portion of the material for our two articles. To see +two men of learning, research, and various special abilities, devoting +what must be no inconsiderable portion of a life’s labour to the +connection of our country with the great French empire, is interesting +and pleasant, to say the least of it. We are a nation disposed to court +the light; we are never afraid of the effect that revelations of our +antecedents may have; we are sure of coming well out in all inquiries +into our history and connections; and the present elucidation has not +stripped a leaf from the national laurels—indeed, we take it to have +only removed some of the dust that covered them, and revealed their real +freshness and brightness. To the labourers in such a task we should feel +that we owe a debt of kindly gratitude, and this should not the less +impress us that the work has been done by citizens of that great old +European central power which befriended the poor children of our soil in +the days of their poverty and danger. New interests and attachments, +more suitable to the position of Scotland on the map of Europe, and to +the origin of her people, afterwards arose. When centuries of cruel +wrong and alienation and wrath had passed away, she became reconciled to +that great relation which, let us suppose, in the usual misunderstanding +which creates the quarrels in the romances, had treated her as an alien +enemy. But while the reconciliation has been long consolidated, and has +proved as natural a national adjustment as the restoration of an exiled +child is a natural family adjustment, there is still a pleasing +sentiment in recalling the friends found in the wide world when kindred +were unkind; and the hospitable doors opened to our wandering +countrymen, among those who stood at the head of European civilisation +in the middle ages, must ever remain a memorable record of the +generosity of the patrons, and of the merits of those who so well +requited their generosity by faithful and powerful services. To the +volumes which contain the record of this attachment something more is +due than the mere recognition of their literary merits—they deserve at +the hands of our countrymen an affectionate recognition as national +memorials. The quantity of curious and interesting matter contained in +them, but for the special zeal of the two men who have thus come +forward, might have remained still buried under archæological +rubbish—might have remained so for ever, even until oblivion overtook +them. It is surely right to hope that the zeal and labour embarked by +the adventurers will not be thrown away; and that our countrymen will +take to the volumes, both of M. Michel and of M. Teulet, as works which +it is becoming for them to possess and read as patriotic Scotsmen. If +readers have found any interest in the casual glimpses of their contents +supplied by the present sketch, they may be assured of finding much more +matter of the same kind should they undertake an investigation of the +volumes themselves. + +Setting before one on the library table the two volumes of M. Michel, +and the five of M. Teulet, is a good deal like receiving one guest in +full court costume, prepared to meet distinguished company, while +another comes to you in his lounging home vestment of serge, with +slippers and smoking-cap, as if he had just stepped across the way from +the scene of his laborious researches. In the collections in this +country of some men who have given themselves to works illustrated by +fine engravings, the Book of the Ceremonial of the Coronation of Louis +XV. is conspicuous, not only by its finely engraved plates, but by the +instruction they afford as representations of the costume and ways of +the great hierarchy of state officers which clustered round the throne +of the Bourbons before the great smash came. Among the most conspicuous +of these are the Scots Guards, then no longer our countrymen, though the +title was retained. The outfit must have appeared signally beautiful and +chivalrous amid the ponderous state habiliments which the eighteenth +century saw accumulate and fall to pieces. It is evidently a traditional +type of the court or company dress of the man-at-arms of the fifteenth +century—a sufficient amount of steel to betoken the warrior, richly +damasked or inlaid with precious metals—a superfluity of lace and +embroidered cloth of silk or velvet. Altogether, a more superbly and +chivalrously accoutred person than your Scottish Guard it is difficult +to idealise; and in the original engraving there is about him, both in +countenance and attitude, the air of one devoted in enthusiasm and +solemn sense of responsibility, to the duty wherewith he is intrusted. +With a good eye to the appropriate, M. Michel—it is his own suggestion, +we take it, not the binder’s—has transferred this striking figure to the +outside of this book, where it glitters in gold on the true-blue +background, which also relieves the lion, the thistle, and the +_fleur-de-lys_. A glimpse we have just had at a quarto and illustrated +copy of the book in the hands of a fortunate collector, wherein is a +full engraved copy of the plate of the Scots Guard, along with many +other appropriate artistical decorations; but in this shape the book is +not put, so far as we are aware, at the disposal of the public; and any +account of it is, in a manner, a digression into something like private +affairs. Reverting to the common published impression of M. Michel’s +book, let it suffice to say that it is well filled with blazons of the +armorial achievements of our countrymen, assuredly valuable to workers +in heraldry and genealogy, and interesting to those descendants of the +stay-at-home portions of the several families which established +themselves so comfortably and handsomely in the territory of our ancient +ally. + +Looking apart from matters of national interest to the literary nature +of M. Michel’s volumes, we find in them specialties which we know will +be deemed signally meritorious; but of the merits to be found in them we +have some difficulty in speaking, since they are literary virtues of a +kind rather out of the way of our appreciation—beyond it, if the reader +prefers that way of expressing what is meant. There is throughout these +two volumes the testimony to an extent of dreary reading and searching +which would stimulate compassion, were it not that he who would be the +victim, were that the proper feeling in which he should be approached, +evidently exults and glories, and is really happy, in the conditions +which those who know no better would set down as his hardships. There +are some who, when they run the eye over arrêts and other formal +documents, over pedigrees, local chronicles telling trifles, +title-deeds, and such-like documents, carry with them a general +impression of the political or social lesson taught by them, and discard +from recollection all the details from which any such impression has +been derived. M. Michel is of another kind; he has that sort of fondness +for his work which induces him to show you it in all stages, from the +rude block to the finished piece of art, so far as it is finished. You +are entered in all the secrets of his workshop—you participate in all +his disappointments and difficulties as well as his successes. The +research which has had no available result is still reported, in order +that you may see how useless it has been. We repeat that we have not +much sympathy with this kind of literature, yet would not desire to +speak profanely of it, since we know that some consider it the only +perfect method of writing books on subjects connected with history or +archæology. The “citation of authorities,” in fact, is deemed, in this +department of intellectual labour, something equivalent to records of +experiments in natural science, and to demonstrations in geometrical +science. Our own sympathy being with the exhibition rather of results +than of the means of reaching them, we have not, unfortunately, that +high respect for footnotes filled with accurate transcripts of +book-titles, which is due to the high authorities by whom the practice +has been long sanctioned. We can afford it, however, the sort of distant +unsympathising admiration which people bestow on accomplishments for +which they have no turn or sympathy—as for those of the juggler, the +acrobat, and the accountant. M. Michel’s way of citing the books he +refers to is indeed, to all appearance, a miracle of perfection in this +kind of work. Sometimes he is at the trouble of denoting where the +passage stands in more than one, or even in every, edition of the work. +He gives chapter or section as well as page and volume. In old books +counted not by the page but the leaf, he will tell you which side he +desires you to look at, right or left; and where, as is the way in some +densely printed old folios, in addition to the arrangement of the pages +by numeration, divisions on each page are separated by the letters A B +C, he tells you which of these letters stands sentry on the paragraph he +refers to. There is, at all events, a very meritorious kind of literary +honesty in all this, and however disinclined to follow it, no one has a +right to object to it. + +And, after all, a man who has gone through so much hard forbidding +reading as M. Michel has, is surely entitled to let us know something +about the dreary wastes and rugged wildernesses through which he has +sojourned—all for the purpose of laying before his readers these two gay +attractive-looking volumes. Towards his foreign reading, we in the +general instance lift the hat of respect, acknowledging its high merits, +on the principle of the _omne ignotum pro magnifico_. Upon the diligent +manner in which he has, in our own less luxuriant field of inquiry among +Scots authorities, turned over every stone to see what is under it, we +can speak with more distinct assurance. Take one instance. The young +Earl of Haddington, the son of that crafty old statesman called Tam o’ +the Cowgate, who scraped together a fortune in public office under James +VI., was studying in France, when he met and fell in love with the +beautiful Mademoiselle De Chatillon, grand-daughter of the Admiral +Coligny. When only nineteen years old he went back to France, married +her, and brought her home. He died within a year, however, and the +countess, a rich beautiful widow, returned to her friends. She was, of +course, beset by admirers, and in reference to these, M. Michel has +turned up a curious passage in ‘Les Histoirettes de Fallemant des +Réaux,’ which, if true, shows the persevering zeal with which our queen, +Henrietta Maria, seized every opportunity to promote the cause of her +religion. The countess, being Huguenot, and of a very Huguenot family, +the queen was eager that she should be married to a Roman Catholic, and +selected the son of her friend Lady Arundel. The dominion over her +affections was, however, held by “un jeune Ecossois nommé Esbron, neveu +du Colonel Esbron.” The name is French for the chevalier Hepburn, one of +the most renowned soldiers in the French service in the early part of +the seventeenth century. The mamma Chatillon was dead against either +connection. She got a fright by hearing that her daughter had been +carried off to the Fenêbres, or the services of Easter-week which +inaugurate Good-Friday; she consequently gave her a maternal box on the +ear, carried her off, and, to keep her out of harm’s way, forthwith +married her to the Count de la Suze, _tout borgne, tout ivrogne et tout +indetté qu’il étoit_. M. Michel’s purpose is not with this desirable +husband, nor with his wife after she ceases to be connected with +Scotland, but with the young Hepburn who comes casually across the +scene. Following in his track entirely, the next quarter where, after +appearing in the ‘Histoirettes,’ he turns up, is Durie’s ‘Decisions of +the Court of Session.’ This is by no means one of the books which every +well-informed man is presumed to know. So toughly is it stuffed with the +technicalities and involutions of old Scots law, and so confused and +involved is every sentence of it by the natural haziness of its author, +that probably no living English writer would dare to meddle with it. No +Scotsman would, unless he be lawyer—nor, indeed, would any lawyer, +unless of a very old school—welcome the appearance of the grim folio. In +citing from it the decision of Hepburn _contra_ Hepburn, 14th March +1639, even the courageous M. Michel subjoins: “Si j’ai bien compris le +text de cet arrêt conçu dans un langue particulière.” This peculiar +arrêt begins as follows:—“The brethren and sisters of umquhile Colonel +Sir John Hepburn having submitted all questions and rights which they +might pretend to the goods, gear, and means of the said umquhile Sir +John, to the laird Wauchton and some other friends, wherein the +submitters were bound and did refer to the said friends to determine +what proportion of the said goods should be given to George Hepburn, the +son of the eldest brother to the said Sir John, which George was then in +France at the time of the making of the said submission and bond, and +did not subscribe the same, nor none taking the burden for him; upon the +which submission, the said friends had given their decreet arbitral. The +living brethren and sisters of the said Sir John being confirmed +executors to him, pursues one Beaton, factor in Paris, for payment of +20,000 pounds addebted by him to the said umquhile Sir John, who, +suspending upon double poinding,” &c. + +Perhaps we have said enough to exemplify the dauntless nature of M. +Michel’s researches. It is impossible to withhold admiration from such +achievements, and we know that, in some quarters, such are deemed the +highest to which the human intellect can aspire. But we confess that, to +our taste, the results of M. Teulet’s labours are more acceptable. True, +he does not profess to give the world an original book. He comes forward +as the transcriber and editor of certain documents; but in the gathering +of these documents from different quarters, through all the difficulties +of various languages and alphabets, in their arrangement so as to bring +out momentous historical truths in their due series, and in the helps he +has afforded to those who consult his volumes, he has shown a skill and +scholarship which deserve to be ranked with the higher attainments of +science. We had formerly an opportunity of paying our small tribute to +M. Teulet’s merits when we referred to his supplemental volume to +Labanoff’s Correspondence of Queen Mary.[9] Among not the least valued +of the contents of our book-shelves, are six octavo volumes containing +the correspondence of La Mothe Fénélon, and the other French ambassadors +to England and Scotland during the latter years of Queen Elizabeth’s +reign, for which the world is indebted to M. Teulet’s researches. The +immediate merit of the book, the title of which is referred to at the +beginning of this article, is, that it is now at the command of the +public. It is indeed a reprint, with some additions, of the papers—at +least all that are worth having—which were previously an exclusive +luxury of the Bannatyne Club, having been printed in three quarto +volumes, as a gift to their brethren, by certain liberal members of the +Club. These papers go into the special affairs of this country as +connected with France and Spain from the beginning of our disputes with +our old ally down to the accession of James VI. In the hands of the +first historian who has the fortune to make ample use of them, these +documents will disperse the secluded and parochial atmosphere that hangs +about the history of Scotland, and show how the fate of Europe in +general turned upon the pivot of the destinies of our country. It is +here that, along with many minor secrets, we have revealed to us the +narrow escape made by the cause of Protestantism, when the project on +the cards was the union of the widowed Queen Mary to the heir of Spain, +and the political combinations still centring round the interests and +the fate of the Queen of Scots, which led to the more signal and +renowned escape realised in the defeat of the Armada. + + + + + KINGLAKE’S INVASION OF THE CRIMEA.[10] + + +Seven years ago, when the war with Russia was about to end—was, in fact, +already virtually ended—and when the war-fever of the English had been +abated by copious blood-letting, and by the absence of further stimulant +to hostility since Sebastopol had ceased to resist, people were already +talking about the future history of the strife. It seemed to be agreed +that the public, which had so eagerly swallowed all the information it +could get, and snapped at all the opinions which floated so thickly on +the stream of current history, was for the present glutted with the +subject, and that to offer it any more Crimean information, however +cunningly dressed, would be like fishing with a May-fly for a July +trout. On the other hand, the subject seemed to be essentially one of +contemporary importance. It had not the elements which gave lasting +interest to the Peninsular war. It had developed no great reputations in +which the nation could for the future undoubtingly confide. It had left +us victorious over no great conqueror. Its memorials were not such as we +should choose to dwell on; for though the nation was very proud of the +early triumphs of the Alma and Inkermann, still the later course of the +struggle had been, though successful in its end, yet disastrous and +gloomy in its progress, and had left, partly through the more brilliant +share which our allies took in the final action, but principally through +the forebodings of our own press, a sense of comparative failure. Mr +Kinglake comes upon the stage at a fortunate time. The weariness of the +subject, once felt, has disappeared, while the strong contemporary +interest in the actors remains. That interest is national in the sense +of being fixed, not on a few great objects, but on a great number of +inferior objects connected with the war. It is not so much patriotic as +domestic. The graves of Cathcart’s Hill, the trenches filled with dead, +the burial-grounds of Scutari, have a strong though softened hold on +innumerable hearts. Everywhere in England—in remote parishes, in small +communities, in humble households—remembrance of the great features of +the struggle is kept alive by the presence of those who survived it. A +strong conviction that French manœuvring was not entirely directed +against the enemy, and that a fair scrutiny would leave us more reason +for self-satisfaction than at first appeared, has long been afloat. And +a succession of great conflicts in which we have been strongly +interested has schooled us in military doctrines, and has rendered us +better able to appreciate the operations of armies than we were either +at the beginning or the end of the Crimean war. + +If the time for the history is happily chosen, so is the historian. Few +men who have written so little have so established their reputation as +Mr Kinglake. His ‘Eothen,’ immensely popular at first, has settled into +an English classic. It is full of interest, full of remarkably vivid +descriptions, full of original writing; and though the style does not +reject effects which a very pure taste would condemn, yet it possesses +the eminent merits of vigour, condensation, and richness. In the fulness +of the fame thus earned, Mr Kinglake accompanied the army to the Crimea. +The scenes of the war consequently possessed for him a reality which no +reading, no imagination, no second-hand description can impart. He had +seen the Euxine covered with the vast flotilla of the Allies. He had set +foot on the hostile coast at the same time as the combined armies. He +had accompanied them in their compact advance, when their columns seemed +but spots and patches in the vast circle of sea and plain. His own eyes +had beheld the battle of the Alma, and the signs of death and suffering +that remained next day to mark the phases of the struggle. And when +afterwards he came to record the incidents of the war, though no +individual observation could embrace all the details, there was always +present with him the invaluable power which personal knowledge confers, +to define, to affirm, or to reject. And as it was soon understood that +he intended to write the history of the war, he, in his double capacity +of approved author and actual spectator, became almost, as a matter of +course, the depositary of a vast amount of information connected with +the subject, oral and documentary, private and official. He had a large +acquaintance with the political as well as the military actors in the +drama. Few men, then, could have had so free access as he to the +materials of which the history must be wrought. + +Moreover, he had shown in his former work that he possessed another +qualification for his task. History cannot be written at a heat. Patient +inquiry, long meditation, the fortitude necessary for the abandonment of +convenient conclusions too hastily come to, are all indispensable to +success. But with this pursuit of the necessary details, unity of +effect, as numberless failures have shown, is almost incompatible. Now, +Mr Kinglake had given remarkable proof that he could bestow a +microscopic attention on particulars without sacrifice of breadth. It is +generally believed that he spent nine years in bringing the single +volume of ‘Eothen’ up to the standard of his own fastidious taste. The +sarcastic advice of Pope to an aspiring author—“Keep your piece nine +years”—had been literally accepted, but with a result very different +from that which the adviser anticipated. Instead of becoming +dissatisfied with a work looked at after a long interval and with +changed feelings, Mr Kinglake proved that he could not only “strike the +second heat”—the process which Ben Jonson says is so necessary for the +forging of ideas into happy forms of expression—but that he could bring +his thoughts again and again to the intellectual smithy to be recast and +shaped without finding the fire extinct. Here, then, was evidence of a +quality most valuable to one who must long and patiently grope amid +masses of evidence and details, sometimes conflicting, often worthless, +and yet retain freshly the power of throwing the selected results into a +form clear, harmonious, and striking. + +We have thus broadly stated some of Mr Kinglake’s eminent qualifications +for his task, and a detailed notice of his work will necessarily include +others. And it is easy to believe that he might have selected a variety +of subjects, his execution of which would have insured unqualified +praise. But for the present task, as might have been seen before he +commenced it, his fitness was marred by one circumstance. His political +course had proved that his animosity towards the French Emperor amounted +to a passion, or, as those who did not care to pick their words might +say, a mania. It might be guessed beforehand, therefore, that the +Emperor would scarcely meet with fair play at his hands. And considering +the share taken by that personage in the events which Mr Kinglake had +undertaken to record, to misrepresent his policy or his doings would be +to distort the history. Any one who entertained such a misgiving must +have found it strengthened when, on glancing over the table of contents, +he perceived that nearly a quarter of the first volume, amidst what +purports to be a record of the “transactions that brought on the war,” +is occupied with an account of the _coup d’état_ which substituted an +empire for a republic in France. On reading the volume his suspicions +would inevitably be converted into certainty. More than that, indeed, +for he would find that his anticipations were far exceeded by a 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. Had Mr Kinglake contrived in this chapter to have +completely relieved his feelings and have been contented with flaying +the Emperor and thus have done with him, leaving him to get through the +rest of the book as naturally and comfortably as he could be expected to +do without his skin, we might consider it as an episode which we should +have been at liberty to set apart from the main purpose of the work. But +like King Charles I., whom David Copperfield’s friend, Mr Dick, never +could keep out of his memorial, this diabolical caricature of despotism +haunts the narrative at every turn. The canvass is spread, the palette +is laid, the artist is at his easel full of his subject—all the great +personages of the time are to figure there, and great incidents are to +form the background. The spectator is at first charmed with the progress +of the design; but presently, amidst the nobly-drawn portraits, there is +a sketch of a monarch with cloven feet appearing beneath his robes, and +a tail curling under his throne; and whereas the rest of the picture is +in true perspective, all that relates to this figure has a separate +horizon and point of sight. The result is as if Gilray in his bitterest +mood had got into Sir Joshua’s studio and persuaded him to let their +fancies mingle in one incongruous work. + +We have thus stated our one point of difference with the author of these +fascinating volumes. With this exception we have little to do but to +praise—and indeed, as a piece of writing, we have nothing to do but to +praise the work from beginning to end. How materials in many respects so +unpromising could be made so interesting, is marvellous. Many a reader +who remembers what a tangled skein of politics it was that led to the +war—many a soldier who has a confused recollection of a jumble of Holy +Places, and the Four Powers, and Vienna Conferences, and who would be +glad to know what it was he was fighting about, now that it is all +over—will take up these volumes as a duty, and will be surprised to find +that the narrative approached in so resolute a frame of mind, is more +easy to read and more difficult to lay down than the most popular of the +popular novels. + +The dispute about the Holy Places, though not in itself in any +appreciable degree the cause of the war, was the introduction to the +events that led to hostilities. There is something almost ludicrous, +something more befitting the times of Philip Augustus and of Cœur de +Lion than those of Louis Napoleon and Lord Palmerston, in the idea of +great European potentates appearing as the backers of two denominations +of monks, who were quarrelling about the key of a church-door in +Palestine. Nevertheless, the Czar, as the chief of a people whose +passions were strongly aroused by the dispute, had a real and legitimate +interest in the matter. To suppose that the President of the French +Republic, or any section of the people over whom he presided, really +cared whether the Greek or the Latin Church had the custody of this +important key, would be absurd. But the President it was who opened the +question by advocating the claims of the Latins. His object in doing so +is by no means clear. Mr Kinglake accounts for it by saying, “The French +President, in cold blood, and under no new motive for action, took up +the forgotten cause of the Latin Church of Jerusalem, and began to apply +it as a wedge for sundering the peace of the world.” Now, that Louis +Napoleon was desirous of disturbing the peace of the world, is Mr +Kinglake’s argument throughout. It is to his book what the wrath of +Achilles is to the ‘Iliad;’ and he tells us that the reason for this +truculent desire was to prop up the French Empire. But that reason, +though it may plausibly explain the acts of the French Emperor, does not +account in the least for the acts of the French President. We presume Mr +Kinglake hardly wishes us to infer that Louis Napoleon sowed the seeds +of war during his Presidency, as provision for the possible necessities +of a possible Empire. Yet the historian’s theory would seem to demand +the inference. + +The poor Sultan, meanwhile, who might well exclaim ‘A plague o’ both +your Churches!’ was the unwilling arbiter of this dispute between his +Christian subjects, and was urged by the great champion on each side to +decide in favour of his protégé. Who might have the key, or whether +there was any key at all, or any sanctuary at all, or any Greek or Latin +Church, was to this hapless potentate a matter of profound indifference. +The French envoy put on the strongest pressure, and the Sultan inclined +to the side of the Latins; the Russian minister thereupon squeezed from +him a concession to their adversaries; and between the two he managed, +as might be expected, to disgust both sects, and to anger the Czar +without satisfying the Emperor. The displeasure of Nicholas was extreme, +and he prepared to support his further arguments by marching a large +army towards the Turkish frontier. And the first use of this force was +to give momentum to the mission of Prince Mentschikoff, who was sent to +Constantinople as the organ of his Imperial master’s displeasure. The +selection of the envoy showed that the Czar wished to take the most +direct and violent course to the fulfilment of his aim; for the Prince’s +diplomacy was of that simple kind—the only kind he seemed capable of +employing—which regards threats as the best means of persuasion. + +These strong measures were the first indications that war was possibly +impending. And as they appeared to spring from the religious fervour of +the Czar, which had been roused to this pitch by the gratuitous +intermeddling of Napoleon in the question of the Holy Places, it would +at first seem as if it were indeed the French ruler who had first blown +the coal which presently caused such a conflagration. But in the +interval between the decision of the Sultan about the churches, and the +appearance of Mentschikoff at Constantinople, Nicholas had held with Sir +Hamilton Seymour the remarkable conversations which explain the real +designs cloaked by the religious question. In these interviews he +uttered his famous parable of “the sick man,” representing that the +Turkish Empire was dying, and might fall to pieces any day, and +proposing that the event should be provided for by an immediate +arrangement for dividing the fragments. Provided he had the concurrence +of England, the Czar would not, he said, care what any other Powers +might do or say in the matter. + +Here then was a foregone conclusion plainly revealed. The religious ire +of the Czar, the movement of his troops, the mission of Mentschikoff, +were all to be instruments for hastening the dissolution of the sick +man, and appropriating his domains. It was no new idea; for Nicholas was +but following the traditionary policy of his house. And if it could be +believed that his expectations of the speedy collapse of the Turkish +Empire were real, it would be unjust to blame him for wishing to profit +by the event. We are too apt to judge of the policy of other Governments +by the interests of England, and to condemn as unprincipled what is +opposed to our advantage. Nevertheless, to a ruler of Russia, no object +can appear more legitimate than the possession of that free outlet to +the world, which alone is wanting to remove the spell that paralyses her +gigantic energies. Looking from the shores of the Euxine, she is but +mocked by the vision of naval glories and of commercial prosperity; but +let her extend her limits to the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles, and no +dreams of greatness can be too splendid for her to realise. But there is +no proof that the Czar’s anticipations respecting Turkey were grounded +on anything more solid than his strong desire to render them true. In +fact, the forecast of the Czar is much the same as that of Mohammed +Damoor, as described in ‘Eothen:’ who, having prophesied that the Jews +of Damascus would be despoiled on a particular day, took steps to verify +his prediction by first exciting and then heading the mob of plunderers. + +The reply of England to his overtures satisfied him that he could not +hope for her complicity in his design upon Turkey. Had it been +otherwise, the sick man would, no doubt, have been so cared for that, +sick or well, there would soon have been an end of him. But the Czar +perceived he must for the present forego his desire for the vineyard of +Naboth. Yet there were several reasons why he should still draw what +profit he could from the present opportunity. He had a pretext—an +indifferent one it is true, but still it was more convenient to use it +than to look for another. He had been at the trouble of military +preparations, and was naturally desirous that they should not be barren +of result. And, in the matter of Montenegro, Turkey had just succumbed +to him so readily on a threat of war, that it seemed very unlikely he +should ever find her in a better frame of mind for his purpose. +Therefore, though the sick man was reprieved, yet he was not to go +scot-free; and Mentschikoff was charged, while ostensibly urging the +Sultan to reconsider the question of the Holy Places, to keep in reserve +a demand of much deeper significance. + +Scornful in demeanour and imperious in language, Mentschikoff entered +Constantinople more like the bearer of a gage of defiance than a +messenger of peace. His deportment startled the Divan out of its +habitual calm; and the British Chargé d’Affaires, at the instance of the +Turkish Ministers, requested our Admiral at Malta to move his squadron +into the Levant. This demand was not complied with; but the French fleet +was ordered to Salamis. And this movement is condemned by Mr Kinglake as +most impolitic; for it happened, he says, at a time when “the anger of +the Emperor Nicholas had grown cool,” and it “gave deep umbrage to +Russia.” From which he means us to infer that Louis Napoleon, following +his deep design of fanning the flame of discord when it should seem to +languish, was so timing the advance of his fleet as to neutralise the +pacific influences which had begun to have their sway. + +Now what are the circumstances of the case? The French Emperor knew +nothing of the conversation with Sir Hamilton Seymour, which did not +transpire till long afterwards. Neither he nor the British Government +were aware of the Czar’s real demands. Ostensibly the matter of +controversy was still the original question between him and the Czar +concerning the Holy Places. And while one of the disputants, France, had +urged her views in the ordinary way by the mouth of her ambassador, her +opponent was preparing to coerce the arbiter by a menacing mission +backed by an army and a fleet. The army already touched the frontier, +the fleet was prepared to sail for the Bosphorus. Will anybody except Mr +Kinglake blame the French Emperor for sending his fleet to Salamis? or +say that he was bound, before taking such a step, to consider whether it +might not give deep umbrage to Russia? + +Mentschikoff then proceeded to urge his demands. These were, that, in +addition to the concessions required respecting the Holy Places, the +Sultan should, by treaty with the Czar, engage to confirm the Christian +subjects of the Porte in certain privileges and immunities. Though the +Sultan was very willing to confirm them in these privileges, he was by +no means willing to bind himself by treaty with the Czar to do so; for +by so doing he would give the Czar a right, as a party to the treaty, to +see that it was fulfilled; and hence those who were to benefit by the +privileges would naturally regard most, not him who granted them, but +him who could compel their observance. In fact, it was virtually +conferring on the Czar the protectorate of the Sultan’s Christian +subjects. + +It was while the Turkish Ministers were in the deepest embarrassment +between the consequences of listening to such a proposition on the one +hand, and the fear of offending the Czar by refusing to entertain it on +the other, that Lord Stratford appeared on the scene. The coming of the +British Ambassador, and the diplomatic duel that ensued between him and +Mentschikoff, where predominant influence in the Sultan’s counsels was +to be the prize of the victor, forms one of the most brilliant passages +in this brilliant book. The mere presence of the Ambassador of England +restores the Sultan and his Ministers to complete self-possession. When +Mentschikoff blusters, they refresh themselves by a view of Lord +Stratford’s commanding aspect; when the Russian menaces war, they are +comforted by a hint from the Englishman respecting the English squadron. +Of such dramatic excellence is this portion of the story, that the +enthralled reader forgets to inquire how it was that in a dispute +between France and Russia respecting the subjects of Turkey, the +Ambassador of England should be the foremost champion. But we see him +throughout as the power that moves the Mussulman puppets, and from whose +calm opposition the menaces of Mentschikoff recoil harmless; and we see +in distant St Petersburg the great Czar himself lashed to fury at +feeling himself foiled by one whom he has long, we are told, considered +as a personal foe. We cannot but feel proud in these circumstances of +the position of our representative, though it would be difficult to say, +perhaps, what advantage besides this feeling of pride we, as a nation, +derived from it. But it is clear that, while the Czar was dreaming, as +of something possible to be realised by a great display of power, of a +protectorate over the Christian subjects of the Porte, here was a +British protectorate of the most absolute character already established +over the Porte and its subjects, Christian and Mussulman; and we might +almost infer that nothing further was requisite on Lord Stratford’s part +but to humour Mohammedan prejudices by submitting to a few insignificant +religious rites, in order to qualify him for at once taking his place as +Chief of the Ottoman Empire, and the true Commander of the Faithful. + +In the diplomatic encounter, Mentschikoff had no more chance than the +fiend in a moral tale of _diablerie_, who urges weak man to sign his +soul away after the good angel has come to the rescue. Baffled at all +points, he departs with all the diplomatic train, muttering vengeance. +And here ends the first act of the drama, when the pretexts of the Czar +have vanished, and he shows his true design. The next begins with the +crossing of the Pruth by the Russian forces, in order to secure the +material guarantee of the Danubian provinces. But the menacing position +of Russia was not the only change in the situation. England, who in the +earlier dispute had no more interest than the other Western Powers in +opposing Russia, had in the progress of the controversy made herself so +prominent that she was, in the judgment of Lord Clarendon, bound to +defend the provinces of the Sultan against an unprovoked attack by +Russia. That she had laid herself under this obligation was entirely +owing to the lofty part which Lord Stratford had played in the drama. On +the other hand, had Lord Stratford not been so ready and conspicuous in +his championship, the Divan, feeling itself unsupported, might have +yielded to the demands of Russia. + +For a great part of the narrative, then, the principal positions have +been occupied by England, Russia, and Turkey; and the interest imparted +to scenes which, from an ordinary hand, would have been eminently +tedious, is wonderful. But at this juncture, King Charles I., who has +long been impending, can no longer be kept out of the memorial. The +iniquitous machinations of the French Emperor are brought into the +foreground. The occasion for enlarging on them is that which we shall +presently state. But first we must say that it is from no wish to dilate +on what we think the blemish of the book that we expatiate on this +theme. It is because it is mixed up with all the main parts of a work +which we are bound to treat as an authentic history. But it happens +that, for a reason to be noted hereafter, we can, without injury to the +texture, separate this portion from the rest; and we therefore propose +to follow this thread of the narrative to its end, and so, having done +with it, to be at liberty, for the rest of these volumes, to approve no +less warmly than we admire. + +Austria naturally felt considerable interest in the movements of a +formidable neighbour, whose troops were now winding round her frontier, +who, by overrunning Turkey, would enclose some of her provinces, and +who, at the next step in advance, would control the Lower Danube. She +therefore, in conjunction with Prussia, made common cause with the +Western Powers, so far as to offer a strong remonstrance against the +occupation of the Danubian provinces, and to join in their efforts to +preserve peace. Mr Kinglake contends that this kind of pacific pressure +would have secured its object, and that if it had not, Austria would +have joined France and England in having recourse to sterner measures. +But he says that, without waiting for the result of this joint coercion, +England was persuaded to join France in a separate course of action, +which, without necessity, involved us in a war desired only by the +French Emperor. “In order to see how it came to be possible,” says the +historian, “that the vast interests of Europe should be set aside in +favour of mere personal objects, it will presently be necessary to +contract the field of vision, and, going back to the winter of 1851, to +glance at the operations of a small knot of middle-aged men who were +pushing their fortunes in Paris.” + +And here is interpolated—for as an interpolation we regard it—that +curious episode which has for its subject the _coup d’état_ and the +establishment of the second French Empire. Standing apart from the +purpose of the book, its isolation gives it peculiar distinctness. But +its inherent character is such that it needs no art or accident to bring +it into strongest relief. It is a singularly clever and singularly +acrimonious attack upon the foremost statesman and most powerful +potentate of these times. And it makes demands on our credulity which +are too heavy for anything short of absolute proof to maintain. For we +are asked to believe that a set of men with no more character or +consideration than Falstaff and his associates, were able to call on the +French nation to stand and deliver, and that the nation thereupon +submitted to be knocked down, to have its throat cut, and to be +plundered by these minions of the moon. Now, does anybody think that +diadems, such as that of France, are to be stolen from a shelf by any +cutpurse who wants to put them in his pocket? Or does anybody think that +a mere cutpurse, having succeeded in the theft, could so have worn his +stolen diadem as to enhance its splendour and renown? That which made +the Empire possible, and that which maintains it now, was the conviction +that the choice of the nation lay between it and Red Republicanism. And +to establish, in any degree, his case, Mr Kinglake should have proved +that no such conviction existed. But if it be true that France found in +the Empire a refuge from anarchy, then reasonable men will not be ready +to scrutinise, in too severe a spirit, the means taken to consolidate +the throne. Granted that the army, the instrument employed by the +President, disgraced itself by an indiscriminate and unprovoked +slaughter—that the opposition of political adversaries was silenced in a +very arbitrary fashion—that a foreign war would probably be necessary +for the security of the new dynasty,—yet will it be said that a result +which has tranquillised France, which has developed her resources and +exalted her reputation, leaves in the establishment of the Empire +nothing except what the world must regret and condemn? And looking at +the portrait which Mr Kinglake has drawn, with so bold and incisive a +touch, of this potentate of wooden face, base soul, and feeble resolve, +who turns green in moments of danger—who, with the aid of swindlers and +bravoes, has yoked France to his chariot, and drives it in a career of +blood with the great Powers of Europe bound to its wheels—we ask, not +only is it brilliant as a work of art, but is it like the original? We +do not profess to believe that the Empire is the perfection of +government. We do not maintain that Louis Napoleon is a model of virtue +and disinterested policy. But if his place in Europe were suddenly +vacant, will Mr Kinglake tell us how it would be better filled, or what +precious things might not be thrown into the gulf before it could be +closed? And if no answer can be given to the question, we may well doubt +the expediency of contributing to bring so important a personage and so +powerful an ally into contempt. + +“After the 2d December in the year 1851,” says Mr Kinglake, in +concluding the portion of his work relating to the _coup d’état_, “the +foreign policy of France was used for a prop to prop the throne which +Morny and his friends had built up.... Therefore, although I have dwelt +awhile upon a singular passage in the domestic history of France, I have +not digressed.” Now, even if he could prove the necessities of the +French Empire to have been the main motive of the part England took in +the war, we should still dispute this. No doubt it is the business of +the historian of an important series of events to trace them to their +sources, and the more clearly he can show the connection hidden from +ordinary minds, the more sagacious and ingenious he will appear. But if +there were no limit to this, the history of any event might spread to an +extent altogether boundless; and therefore, to justify digression, it is +necessary for the historian to show that the incidents which led to the +result had a necessary and not an accidental influence in procuring it. +For instance, in the case of a popular uprising against a despotism or a +superstition, it would be expected that the historian should trace all +the successive steps by which the national feelings were roused from +suffering to resistance, because those steps led inevitably and +naturally to that particular result, and not to any other. In such a +case history is performing her proper function of explaining, for the +guidance of posterity, the obscure process by which certain conditions +produce certain effects. But where a war has been caused by the caprice +and unreasoning anger of a potentate, it is beside the purpose to trace +up to his very cradle the effect of early mismanagement or neglect in +rendering him passionate or capricious, for no political lesson can be +taught where results cannot be calculated. In such a case it will be +sufficient to state the fact, that the war originated in the irascible +temper and unaccountable impulse of one who had the power to give his +anger such tremendous vent. It would be absurd to pause in the history, +and to introduce his biography, merely to prove that it is a bad thing +when great power is lodged in the hands of a person who is the slave of +violent caprice. And in the present instance, if it had been stated in +two sentences that the conditions under which the French Empire had +started into existence were such as to render a foreign war, or a +commanding position in Europe, necessary to its stability, the statement +would have fully satisfied the requirements of history, and would have +received general assent. + +However, having considered it necessary to prove this proposition by a +separate history of the transition which France underwent from a +republic to an empire, Mr Kinglake undertakes to show how we were +dragged into war by this necessitous Emperor. He asserts many times that +the operations of the French and English fleets caused the war. + + + “The English Government,” he says, “consented to engage in naval + movements which affected—nay governed—the war.” And again, “The French + Emperor had no sooner engaged the English Government in a separate + understanding, than he began to insist upon the necessity of using the + naval power of France and England in the way which he proposed—a way + bitterly offensive to Russia. Having at length succeeded in forcing + this measure upon England, he after a while pressed upon her another + movement of the fleets still more hostile than the first, and again he + succeeded in bringing the English Government to yield to him. Again, + and still once again, he did the like, always in the end bringing + England to adopt his hostile measures; and he never desisted from this + course of action, until at last it had effected a virtual rupture + between the Czar and the Western Powers.” + + +And in this way throughout these transactions the Emperor plays a part +much the same as that which Satan took in the scenes in Paradise; and at +every turn we see him moving deviously, quite serpentine in craft and +baseness, or squatting toad-like at the ear of the slumbering British +Government, till now, at the Ithuriel touch of history, he starts up in +his true form of malignant demon. + +The various items of the present charge against him are collected by Mr +Kinglake in a compendious form:— + + + “Not yet as part of this narrative, but by way of anticipation, and in + order to gather into one page the grounds of the statement just made, + the following instances are given of the way in which the English + Government was, from time to time, driven to join with the French + Emperor in making a quarrelsome use of the two fleets:—On the 13th of + July 1853, the French Emperor, through his Minister of Foreign + Affairs, declared to the English Government that if the occupation of + the Principalities continued, the French fleet could not longer remain + at Besica Bay. On the 19th of August he declared it to be absolutely + necessary that the combined fleets should enter the Dardanelles, and + he pressed the English Government to adopt a resolution to this + effect. On the 21st of September he insisted that the English + Government, at the same moment as the French, should immediately order + up the combined squadrons to Constantinople. On the 15th of December + he pressed the English Government to agree that the Allied fleets + should enter the Euxine, take possession of it, and interdict the + passage of every Russian vessel. It will be seen that, with more or + less reluctance and after more or less delay, these demands were + always acceded to by England: and the course thus taken by the + maritime Powers was fatal to the pending negotiations; for, besides + that in the way already shown the Czar’s wholesome fears were + converted into bursts of rage, the Turks at the same time were + deriving a dangerous encouragement from the sight of the French and + English war-flags; and the result was, that the negotiators, with all + their skill and all their patience, were never able to frame a Note in + the exact words which would allay the anger of Nicholas, without + encountering a steadfast resistance on the part of the Sultan.” + + +We have only, then, to take in their turn the items thus enumerated to +ascertain the justice of the charge. The first of the naval movements +was the advance of the fleets to Besica Bay. This made the Czar very +angry. But it was in itself a perfectly lawful operation, and quite +consistent with friendliness and desire for peace. It by no means +balanced the aggressive advance of the Czar into the Principalities and +the orders to the Sebastopol fleet. Moreover, however irritating to +Nicholas, he condoned it, for we find him long afterwards accepting the +Vienna Note framed by the four Powers, the acceptance of which by Turkey +would have settled the dispute. That it was not accepted by Turkey was +due entirely to Lord Stratford and the Turkish Ministers. “The French +Emperor,” says Mr Kinglake, “did nothing whatever to thwart the +restoration of tranquillity.” It is evident, then, that the movements of +the fleets thus far had produced no effect which was not completely +neutralised, and that the Emperor’s desire for war did not prevent him +from contributing to the general effort for peace. + +The next movement of the fleets was into the Dardanelles. The Sultan was +engaged by treaty to forbid the entrance of the fleets of any Power so +long as he should be at peace. What, then, were the reasons for entering +the Straits? Were they purely provocative? Now, we find that the demand +for war on the part of the Turkish people had at this time become so +urgent, that the Ambassadors to the Porte regarded it as almost +irresistible. The French Ambassador viewed it, Mr Kinglake says, “with +_sincere_ alarm.” He wrote a despatch to his Government, imparting to it +what we must admit to have been also “sincere alarm,” for there is no +evidence or insinuation of the contrary; and that alarm being shared by +our Government, the fleets were ordered to enter the Dardanelles that +they might be ready, if wanted, to support the Turkish Government +against the belligerent wishes of its own subjects. + +But another important circumstance had occurred before the entry of the +fleets. In invading the Principalities, the Czar had announced that this +was not meant as an act of war. And the Sultan’s hold on these provinces +was of such an anomalous kind that his advisers held him to be at +liberty to construe the invasion as an act of war, or not, at his own +pleasure. He had now given notice to the Czar that unless the Russian +troops should quit the Principalities in fifteen days he would declare +war. Fourteen of the fifteen days had elapsed when the fleets entered. +Except for observing the strict letter of the treaty, it was not of the +least importance whether they entered a day sooner or later. Yet Mr +Kinglake tells us the Czar was very indignant at the violation of the +treaty, and he laments that another day was not suffered to elapse +before the movement. Now, considering all the circumstances—that the +fleets had already been for a long time at the disposal of the +Ambassadors, who might summon them to Constantinople whenever they +judged necessary, and that the Czar knew it—that war steamers had +already been called up to the Bosphorus by both the Ambassadors, French +and English, and the treaty thus broken as completely as by the passage +of a hundred fleets—that the Czar had himself, by the invasion of the +Principalities, deprived himself of the right to complain of the +violation of the treaty—that fifteen days’ notice of a declaration of +war had been given, and that the full term must have expired before the +fleets could arrive at Constantinople—considering all this, the +provocation is reduced to such an infinitesimal quantity, that it is +barely worth a passing mention. There is no evidence whatever that the +prospects of peace were in any way affected by the advance of the +fleets. Yet a hasty reader of Mr Kinglake’s narrative might easily +imagine that it produced the direst consequences. “When the tidings of +this hostile measure,” he says, “reached St Petersburg, they put an end +for the time to all prospect of peace.” And again— + + + “The Czar received tidings of the hostile decision of the maritime + Powers in a spirit which, this time at least, was almost justified by + the provocation given. In retaliation for what he would naturally look + upon as a bitter affront, and even as a breach of treaty, he + determined, it would seem, to have vengeance at sea whilst vengeance + at sea was still possible; and it was under the spur of the anger thus + kindled that orders for active operations were given to the fleet at + Sebastopol. The vengeance he meditated he could only wreak upon the + body of the Turks, for the great offenders of the West were beyond the + bounds of his power.” + + +Would not the reader imagine from this that the attack of Sinope had +been proved by full evidence to be the immediate result of the +exasperation of the Czar at the advance of the combined fleets? But Mr +Kinglake acquaints us in a note with the real grounds on which he makes +this confident assertion:— + + + “This conclusion is drawn from dates. The hostile resolution of the + Western Powers was known to the Czar a little before the 14th of + October, and about the middle of the following month the Black Sea + fleet was at sea. If allowance be made for distance and preparation, + it will be seen that the sequence of one event upon the other is close + enough to warrant the statement contained in the text. In the absence, + however, of any knowledge to the contrary, it is fair to suppose that + the Czar remembered his promise, and did not sanction any actual + attack upon the enemy unless his commanders should be previously + apprised that the Turks had commenced active warfare.” + + +We read this note with surprise. It proves that Mr Kinglake can, when in +hot pursuit of the foe, step to a conclusion over grounds where few can +follow. The fleets entered the Dardanelles on the 22d October. The +attack of Sinope took place on the 30th November. The Turks and Russians +had been at war for six weeks; and though the Russian Minister had +announced in a circular some time before, that the Czar, in hopes still +of a peaceful solution, would remain on the defensive as long as his +dignity and interests would allow, yet, as Mr Kinglake himself says, +“After the issue of the circular, the Government of St Petersburg had +received intelligence not only that active warfare was going on in the +valley of the Lower Danube, but that the Turks had seized the Russian +fort of St Nicholas on the eastern coast of the Euxine, and were +attacking Russia upon her Armenian frontier;” and he fully absolves the +Czar from any breach of faith in this matter. Yet he would gravely have +us believe that the attack of the ships of one Power upon those of +another with which it is at open war requires explanation, and that the +most natural explanation possible is to be found in attributing it to a +slow retaliation for an imaginary injury inflicted by two other Powers. +It is as if we should be told that, in the early rounds of a celebrated +pugilistic encounter, Mr Sayers had hit Mr Heenan very hard in the eye, +not because they were fighting, but because one of the bystanders had +previously trodden on the champion’s coat. + +As the reader will probably decline to follow Mr Kinglake over his +slender bridge of inference, we must look beyond Sinope for the naval +movement instigated by the French Emperor and turning the scale in +favour of war; and, as only one remains to be accounted for, we have not +far to look. The next orders sent to the fleets were intended to obviate +another disaster and disgrace such as that of Sinope. They provided that +Russian ships met with in the Euxine should be requested, and, if +necessary, constrained, to return to Sebastopol. This, Mr Kinglake terms +“a harsh and insulting course of action.” He says the English Cabinet +during their deliberations “were made acquainted with the will of the +French Emperor; ... the pressure of the French Emperor was the cogent +motive which governed the result; ... the result was that now, for the +second time, France dictated to England the use that she should make of +her fleet, and by this time, perhaps, submission had become more easy +than it was at first.” But Lord Clarendon has been quoted by Mr Kinglake +as saying, months before, that it had become the duty of England to +defend Turkey. According to Mr Kinglake, when independent Powers are +acting together, to propose is to dictate, and to acquiesce is to +submit. To make a suggestion is imperious, and to adopt it is +ignominious. But what kind of an alliance would this be? or how would +concert be possible under such circumstances? The proposal of the French +Emperor was so offered as to show that he was thoroughly convinced of +its expediency. If he was so convinced, he was right so to offer it. And +why did the English Ministry adopt it? Because the English people more +than kept pace with the wishes of the Emperor. “A huge obstacle,” says +the historian, “to the maintenance of peace in Europe was raised up by +the temper of the English people; ... the English desired war.” It is +strange doctrine then, that an English Ministry which, by assenting to +the proposition of an ally, expresses the temper of the English people, +thereby submits to foreign dictation. + +But the strangest part of the French part of the story is behind. We +have seen how Mr Kinglake traces from the first the devious wiles of the +French Emperor—how it was his craft that first made the question of the +Holy Places important—how his “subtle and dangerous counsels” hurried +England into war, and all because war was necessary to the stability of +his throne. The complicated texture of his intrigue is followed and +traced with immense patience and ingenuity; and yet, when the work is +complete, and his imperial victim stands fully detected and exposed as +the incendiary of Europe, the detective suddenly destroys his own +finely-spun web at a blow. England was the tool of the French Emperor, +but the French Emperor was the tool of a still more astute and potent +personage. “When the Czar began to encroach upon the Sultan, there was +nothing that could so completely meet Lord Palmerston’s every wish as an +alliance between the two Western Powers, which should toss France +headlong into the English policy of upholding the Ottoman Empire.... As +he (Lord Palmerston) from the first had willed it, so moved the two +great nations of the West.” The elaborated structure of French intrigue +falls, and our gay perennial Premier is discovered smiling amid the +ruins. Thus Punch murders his wife and infant, hangs the executioner, +and shines as the dexterous and successful villain, till, at the close +of the piece, Mr Codlin, the real wire-puller, draws aside the curtain +and appears at the bottom of the show, while the great criminal and his +victims revert to their proper condition of sawdust and tinsel. + +The terms of the alliance between France and England are surely not +difficult to understand. The policy of upholding the Ottoman Empire was, +as Mr Kinglake says, “an English policy.” The object for which the +Governments of France and England were actively united was an English +object. Naturally we inquire what inducement the Emperor had then to +form the alliance? Mr Kinglake furnishes us with the correct response. +It seemed, he says, to the Emperor “that, by offering to thrust France +into an English policy, he might purchase for himself an alliance with +the Queen, and win for his new throne a sanction of more lasting worth +than Morny’s well-warranted return of his eight millions of approving +Frenchmen. Above all, if he could be united with England, he might be +able to enter upon that conspicuous action in Europe which was needful +for his safety at home, and might do this without bringing upon himself +any war of a dangerous kind.” The advantages of the alliance were to be +reciprocal. The Emperor was to gain in position and reputation, in +return for aiding with his fleets and armies the attainment of an +English object. Mutual interest and mutual compromise were the basis of +this, as of most alliances. We had not to accuse the Emperor of any +breach of faith in executing his part of the compact. Being already, as +Lord Clarendon said, committed to the defence of Turkey, it made a vast +difference to us whether we should enter on a war with Russia alone, or +should be aided by the immense power of France. And it was only fair +that the Emperor should be allowed to occupy, in the transactions which +ensued, that position, the attainment of which was his grand object in +seeking the alliance. Yet Mr Kinglake blames this necessitous potentate +because he did not sacrifice his position and himself to our +interests—because he did not chivalrously place his army and navy at our +service for the promotion of English policy, and remain quietly in the +background, with his generous feelings for his reward; and he blames our +own Government for making those compromises which alone could render the +alliance possible. + +And here, we rejoice to say, our serious differences with Mr Kinglake +end. After so much entertainment and instruction as we have derived from +his book, it seems almost ungrateful to make to it so many exceptions. +But if we have occupied much of our space thus, he must remember that it +takes longer to argue than to acquiesce. Moreover, it is partly owing to +his own excellences that we have been able to find matter for dispute. +Many a writer would have so muddled his facts and his prejudices that we +should have found it hard to do more than suspect the presence of error +in the cloudy medium. But his style is so clear, so precise, that the +reasoning everywhere shines through, and a fallacy or an inconsistency +has no more chance of escaping detection than a gold fish in a crystal +aquarium. And besides, Mr Kinglake himself most honestly and liberally +furnishes us with the facts, and even the inferences, necessary to +rectify his theory. Thus the effect, in his history, of his hostility to +the Emperor is not that of a false proportion in a rule of three, which +extends and vitiates the whole process. It is only like a series of +erroneous items introduced in a sum in addition, which may be separated +and deducted, leaving the total right. + +The course of the transactions that led to the war may then be traced as +clearly as diplomacy, dealing with many great interests and many unseen +motives, generally permits. The squabble about the Holy Places was not +the origin but only the pretext of the dispute with Turkey. The +conversations with Sir Hamilton Seymour and the mission of Mentschikoff +prove that the Czar was already seeking to dislocate the fabric of the +Turkish Empire, and only took that lever because it lay readiest to his +hand. “A crowd of monks,” says Mr Kinglake, in his picturesque way, +“with bare foreheads, stood quarrelling for a key at the sunny gates of +a church in Palestine, but beyond and above, towering high in the misty +North, men saw the ambition of the Czars.” But the real design could not +long be hidden by the pretext. And the execution of that design would be +subversive of that balance which it was the duty and interest of the +other Powers to maintain. It was for the Czar, then, to choose a time +for his project when he might find each of the other Powers restrained +by some counteracting motive from opposing his ambition. Looking over +Europe, he thought that he perceived the favourable moment. Austria, the +Power most interested from her contiguity, and from the importance to +her of free use of the great waterway of Southern Germany, if she had +much reason to resist, had also much reason to acquiesce. She still felt +too keenly, financially and politically, the effects of the heavy blows +dealt her in 1848–9 to be ready or willing for war. She was under a huge +debt of gratitude to Nicholas, who, in the hour of her direst necessity, +had advanced to save her, without condition and without reward. He +possessed, too, a great personal ascendancy over the young Emperor of +Austria. And, lastly, at this time Austria had a hostile altercation +with Turkey, which would render it more than ever difficult for her to +take part with the Sultan. + +It might be calculated that Prussia would follow the lead of Austria. +Her interests were the same in kind, but far less in degree. Once +satisfied that full guarantees for the freedom of the Danube would be +given, she would no longer have special interest in the subject. + +As to France, there seemed to be no special reason why she should +interfere. And if she should interfere, the Czar’s sentiments towards +the new Empire were such as would rather lead him to disdainful defiance +than conciliation. + +At first he anticipated no difficulty in persuading the English +Government to join in his designs. Finding, however, by the rejection of +his overtures, that he could not hope for the support of England, he +probably postponed the extreme measures of aggression. But, for the +reasons we have stated in a former paragraph, he was unwilling to let +the opportunity pass totally unimproved; and hence the demands of +Mentschikoff for granting the protectorate of the Greek Church in Turkey +to the Czar. + +It was Lord Stratford’s share in the diplomatic contest that ensued, +which first gave England prominence in the dispute. And whether the part +he took was in accordance with instructions from his Government, or was +due to the influence of his personal character, the result was to assure +England that the predominance of her Ambassador in the councils of the +Porte, whatever advantage it might confer, carried with it grave +responsibility. When Mentschikoff withdrew in anger from the scene, +England was, in the opinion of her own Ministers, committed to the +defence of Turkey. + +We have seen that the Czar’s original design was made dependent on the +concurrence of England. When he found that this was unattainable, the +design was modified. He now found that even in this modified form +England would not only not concur, but would oppose it. Why then did he +persist? It was because he did not believe that the opposition of +England would go the length of war. + +Lord Aberdeen, the English Premier, besides being the personal friend of +Nicholas, and therefore disposed to view Russian policy with comparative +indulgence, was the open and professed friend of peace at any price. He +had that horror of war which in a statesman is an unpardonable and fatal +weakness. And in this particular he was believed only to represent the +feeling of the English people. The Czar, in common with most of the +world, was convinced that they were entirely absorbed in the pursuit of +commerce. He took the Exhibition of 1851 for the national confession of +faith. He believed that England had no god but gold, and that Mr Cobden +was her prophet. + +This fallacy Mr Kinglake exposes in his happiest style:— + + + “All England had been brought to the opinion that it was a wickedness + to incur war without necessity or justice; but when the leading + spirits of the Peace Party had the happiness of beholding this + wholesome result, they were far from stopping short. They went on to + make light of the very principles by which peace is best maintained, + and although they were conscientious men, meaning to say and do what + was right, yet, being unacquainted with the causes which bring about + the fall of empires, they deliberately inculcated that habit of + setting comfort against honour which historians call ‘corruption.’ + They made it plain, as they imagined, that no war which was not + engaged in for the actual defence of the country could ever be right; + but even there they took no rest, for they went on and on, and still + on, until their foremost thinker reached the conclusion that, in the + event of an attack upon our shores, the invaders ought to be received + with such an effusion of hospitality and brotherly love as could not + fail to disarm them of their enmity, and convert the once dangerous + Zouave into the valued friend of the family. Then, with great + merriment, the whole English people turned round, and although they + might still be willing to go to the brink of other precipices, they + refused to go further towards that one. The doctrine had struck no + root. It was ill suited to the race to whom it was addressed. The male + cheered it, and forgot it until there came a time for testing it, and + then discarded it; and the woman, from the very first, with her true + and simple instinct, was quick to understand its value. She would + subscribe, if her husband required it, to have the doctrine taught to + charity children, but she would not suffer it to be taught to her own + boy. So it proved barren.” + + +Caustic as this is, it is only too indulgent to the Peace Party. Not +that it is of special importance now to crush what is already so +depressed and abased as to have lost its power of mischief. The course +of the leaders of the party has been such that they could not continue +to enjoy any large measure of popularity, except upon the anomalous +condition that a great number of Englishmen should join in hating +England. For years past no petulant despotism, no drunken republic, +could shake its coarse fist in the face of this country, without finding +its warmest supporters in those men of the olive branch, who were never +weary of urging us to offer both cheeks to the smiter. Their mode of +interference in a quarrel is like that of the affectionate friends, who, +if a man were attacked, would cling round him and hamper him, reviling +him for his pugnacity, while his adversary ran him through the body. +Long fallen from their position as oracles, they lie at the base of +their tall pedestals, and “none so poor as do them reverence.” But, in +granting them honesty of purpose, Mr Kinglake falls, we think, into the +now common error of pushing candour to excess. A man’s mistakes are +honest when he is led into them by motives irrespective of his +interests. The fanatic who sacrifices his own advantage along with that +of other people cannot be accused of baseness. But these men had a +direct interest in preaching the doctrine of the necessity of national +poltroonery. The substitution of a purely commercial policy for that +which the nation had hitherto followed, was intimately blended with +their own personal advantage. The motive, therefore, that inspired the +error renders it inexcusable. + +Blind, then, to consequences, the Czar continued his course of +aggression. He marched his troops into the Principalities. Thereupon, no +longer opposed only by England, he finds himself met by the concerted +action of the four great Powers. And the question of interest at this +particular stage is, Whether the primary object of defending Turkey was +to be best attained by the action of the four Powers, or by the +increased decision in action of England and France. Now it is to be +observed, that the Czar knew long before he occupied the Principalities +that Austria would resist the step. Yet the united remonstrance of the +four Powers had failed to induce him to abandon it. And it also failed +afterwards to induce him to retract it. Through remonstrance, +opposition, and the earlier stages of the war, he continued to hold the +provinces. It becomes then a question, when we are considering the +statement that the peaceful pressure of the four Powers would have +attained our object in the most desirable way, whether a course of +action so slow was consistent with our engagement to defend Turkey. It +is a matter at least open to doubt. + +But granting that either the slow action of Austria, or the more +decisive policy of France, would have equally availed, if adopted by +common consent, was that unanimity possible? Austria had many reasons +for limiting her interference to diplomatic pressure. Moreover, her +ground of complaint against Russia was the occupation of the +Principalities, not the threatening of Turkey. Should Russia adopt some +other method of coercing Turkey, such as sending her fleet into the +Bosphorus, and withdrawing her troops from the provinces, the interest +of Austria in the dispute would almost vanish, while that of the Western +Powers would increase. And how would it suit France to adopt the course +of Austria, and to aim at a settlement by united action? The French +Emperor’s great inducement in joining in the dispute at all was the +prospect of increased reputation. And when the figure representing the +credit to be gained by joint diplomatic coercion came to be divided by +four, would the quotient satisfy his expectations? It is not too much to +say that England was compelled to choose between France and Austria, +since it was unlikely they would long continue in a common course. And +as the action of England in a war with Russia must be principally +through her fleet, it became of immense importance that the French navy +should act with us rather than be neutral or hostile. In such +circumstances, then, it is by no means clear that we did wrong in +holding with France. + +From this period, then, it becomes apparent that, if Russia should +persist in aggression, war was inevitable. And Russia did persist in +aggression. And if it be considered as established that the Czar was led +so to persist by a conviction that England would not resort to war—which +is the general and probably correct opinion—we do not see how it can be +denied that a course of action which must undeceive him would be the +most likely to cause him to desist; and that the naval movements that +ensued were only such as would convince him of our intention without +driving him to extremity. It is plain that the two theories—one of which +is that the pacific disposition of our Government allowed us to drift +into war, and the other that our menacing action irritated the Czar +beyond control, and therefore caused the war—are incompatible. + +The fleets then moved to the entrance of the Dardanelles; and, while the +Czar was recovering from the anger produced by that step, the +representatives of the four Powers in conference at Vienna produced +their Note, a mediatory document which would, it was hoped, settle all +difficulties. It was readily accepted by Russia, the reason for which +became apparent when it was offered to Turkey; for the Turkish +Government at once rejected it, on the ground that it might be so +interpreted as to secure to the Czar the protectorate he aimed at. They +proposed alterations, with the concurrence of the mediatory Powers, +which the Czar in his turn rejected; and the Sultan thereupon declared +that, if the provinces were not evacuated in fifteen days, Turkey would +be at war with Russia. The fleets moved through the Dardanelles. The +next step was the attack on the Turkish squadron at Sinope by the +Russian admiral. The English people were now thoroughly roused. They +were indignant, not so much at the breach of faith imputed to the Czar +in making the attack, as at the ruthless destruction and slaughter of +the Turkish force by its far more powerful enemy. The attack, too, had +taken place almost under the guns of the combined fleets, and it was +evident that, if their presence at Constantinople meant anything, and if +we really were engaged to defend Turkey, the repetition of such a +disaster to our ally must be prevented. A measure to this effect, but by +no means strong enough to express the feeling of England, was adopted; +the combined fleets were ordered by their respective governments to keep +the peace by force, if necessary, in the Euxine. But as there had been +as yet no actual collision between their forces and those of the Czar, a +door to peace was still left open. Of this he did not choose to avail +himself, but declared war against France and England on the 11th April +1854. + +Such is an outline of the successive events preceding the war which, +unpromising as such a record of futile diplomacy may seem, Mr Kinglake +has wrought into one of the most brilliant of historical pictures. +‘Eothen’ itself is not more entertaining, more rich in colour, more +happy in quaint and humorous turns of expression; while, from the false +effects that are sometimes seen in the earlier work, the present +narrative is entirely free. The style is indeed a model of ease, +strength, clearness, and simplicity. Nor has labour been spared; and the +reader who has so often been expected by historians to be already +familiar with political and diplomatic lore, and has been left to repair +his deficiencies as he may, will be grateful to Mr Kinglake for some of +the elementary instruction which he has conveyed in such a delightful +form, as, for instance, the chapter on “the usage which forms the +safeguard of Europe.” And remembering what animation and vigour personal +feeling, even when so strongly biased, cannot fail to infuse, and seeing +that, in the present case, it has not prevented the writer from fully +stating the facts and deductions which most contradict his favourite +theories, we cease to lament the absence of that judicial calmness which +would have deprived his history of half its charm. + +The first glowing scenes now shift to one still more splendid. Diplomacy +has played out its part; its subtlest essays seem but mere babble to the +ear that is listening for the impending clang of arms. Statesmen and +ambassadors gather up their futile documents, and retire to the side +scenes, to make way for the sterner disputants who throng the stage. + +If Mr Kinglake was unsparing in his denunciations of French intrigue, he +is no less bold and outspoken in criticising the military merits of our +allies. But we no longer find the same reasons for dissenting from his +conclusions. Many, no doubt, will say that it would have been politic to +suppress some of those revelations which will jar most on the sensitive +ears of our neighbours. But, if history is to be written at all, it must +be written with all the truth attainable. History, which conceals and +glosses, is but historical romance. Moreover, a plain English statement +was wanting to redress the balance between us and the French. It must +not be forgotten that the example of writing a narrative apportioning to +both parties in the alliance the sum of glory gained was set in France, +and that a share, ridiculously small, was awarded to the English. We +remonstrated at the time, in these pages, against the unfairness and +impolicy of allowing such a book as De Bazancourt’s to go forth to the +world with the seeming sanction of the Emperor, at a time when the war +was yet unfinished. A man of no reputation or ability to justify the +selection had been accredited to the French generals in the Crimea. +Furnished thus with information, which might be presumed to be reliable, +he produced a narrative in which the entire credit for the planning and +execution of the successful operations of the war was assigned to the +French with impudent mendacity. As might naturally be expected from a +nation that believes in Thiers, his account was accepted by the French +as veritable history. In England it was but little read. Contemptible as +a composition, its representations of facts were not such as to give it +a claim to which nothing else entitled it. But, so far as it was read +here, it gave just offence. That the Emperor did not disapprove is shown +by the fact that the same valuable chronicler was taken to Italy as +historiographer of the war in 1859, when another compound of bombastic +glorification and misrepresentation was given to the world under +imperial auspices. No Englishman or candid Frenchman who reads the +account of the Crimean Campaign by the Baron De Bazancourt will deny +that it was incumbent on us to tell our own tale; and we rejoice that it +is told by one who, with such remarkable faculty for charming an +audience and imparting to it his own impressions, trusts, nevertheless, +to facts and proofs derived from the documents intrusted to him, for +supporting his claim for justice. + +The long European peace had left the armies of the Great Powers with +little except a traditional knowledge of civilised war. It is true that +part of the English army had seen service in India; a large portion of +the French troops had made campaigns in Algeria; and the Russians had +for years carried on a desultory warfare in Circassia. But none of these +theatres of operations had been of a kind to serve as schools of +training for encounters with a disciplined foe. Nor had they developed +amidst the officers that high talent for superior commands to which +either country could turn with confidence. Accordingly, the English fell +back upon their traditions of the old wars of Wellington, as embodied in +his friend Lord Raglan. Whether he was likely to make a great general or +not, it was impossible for anybody to say, for his career had not been +such as to offer any field for the display of the talents requisite in a +commander. Sixty-six is not perhaps the most favourable age for a first +essay in any walk in life. But it was known that he was accustomed to +military business; that his conciliatory and courteous manners would be +of great service in an allied army, and that his rank and dignity would +ensure the respect necessary for the maintenance of our proper position +in the alliance; while, if he had not commanded armies himself, he had +been intimate with him whom we regarded as the commander without a peer. +The French had no available relics of the wars of the First Empire; and +if any such had existed, there were other claimants to be considered, +namely, those soldiers of fortune to whom the Emperor was under +obligations for their share in the _coup d’état_. The claims of St +Arnaud surpassed all others. He was a frothy, vainglorious, gallant man, +who had never shown capacity for any operation more considerable than a +raid against the Arabs. His published letters breathe a high ambition +and spirit of enterprise, but do not reveal any rare military quality. +Lord Russell himself could not be more ready to take the lead in any +description of onerous undertaking. But his self-confidence seems to +have had no deeper root than vanity; for, whereas his letters to his +relations are full of the great part he is playing, or means to play, +neither his acts, nor the official records of his doings as Commander of +the French army, corroborate the views of his own pre-eminence which he +imparted to his family. Mr Kinglake drily accounts for the selection of +this commander by saying that he was ambitious of leading the +enterprise, and that “the French Emperor took him at his word, +consenting, as was very natural, that his dangerous, insatiate friend, +should have a command which would take him into the country of the Lower +Danube.” If it is by this intended we should infer that the wily +potentate expected the climate to disagree with him, the anticipation +was fulfilled; for a frame already weakened by long disease broke up +entirely under the assault of the fever of Varna. The Russians possessed +a fine old remnant of antiquity in Prince Paskiewitch, which was +furbished up, and did very well till, meeting with a mischance before +Silistria, at the outset of the war, he vanished, and the effort to +supply his place with a creditable general was not successful. As +regards military talent, then, it would not seem that either belligerent +possessed an advantage which would preclude Fortune from exercising her +proverbial function of favouring the brave. + +While the English and French troops were on the way to Turkey, the +Russians had opened an offensive campaign. The method of doing this was +prescribed to them by the features of the theatre of war. The Danube, +flowing round Wallachia, turns northward and meets the Pruth, so as to +include between the two rivers and the sea a narrow strip; the part of +which, north of the Danube, is a Russian province, Bessarabia, and that +south of the Danube a Turkish province, the Dobrudja. Should the +Russians seek to pass into Turkey through Wallachia, they would lend a +flank to an attack from Austria, if she were to carry her hostility to +the point of war, and their troops would be very critically placed +between Austrian and Turkish foes. But by advancing along the strip the +Russians passed at once from Russian to Turkish territory; while the +Danube covered their right flank from Austria. Still, in order to +proceed beyond the Dobrudja in the direction of the Balkan, and thence +towards Constantinople, as they had done with such signal success in +1829, it was indispensable that they should begin by taking +Silistria—and more than ever indispensable now that the Allies had +command of the Euxine. Accordingly, the opening of the campaign was +marked by the siege of Silistria by the Russians. + +Although it soon appeared that Silistria was bravely defended, it was +not expected that the fortress could hold out long. And therefore, in +anticipation of such decisive movements as those of 1829, the first +intention of the Allies was to fortify Gallipoli, thus securing the +Dardanelles as a channel of supply, and the Chersonese peninsula as a +secure base from whence to operate in Turkey. But it soon appeared that +Russia was stumbling at the first obstacle. Gallipoli, therefore, ceased +to be of present importance; and the next idea was to transport the +armies to that point from whence they could most speedily meet the +enemy. And that point was evidently Varna. + +Mr Kinglake chronicles two facts relating to this period, not hitherto +published, and the knowledge of both of which he probably derived +(certainly of one) from Lord Raglan’s papers. The first is the project +of St Arnaud to obtain command of the Turkish forces. How this was +defeated is recorded in one of Mr Kinglake’s most characteristic +passages, where the lively, pushing, aspiring Marshal finds his +confidence in his own scheme suddenly evaporating before the grave +dignified courtesy of Lord Stratford, and the mildly implied disapproval +of Lord Raglan. The other is, that, after the embarkation was agreed on, +St Arnaud suddenly announced, that he should move his army by land to +the south of the Balkan; and that, according to his plan, the English +should take the left of the proposed strategical line, and therefore be +farthest from their supplies coming from sea. This scheme, also, he +relinquished; but the fact is notable, first, as showing the propensity +to take what advantage he could at the expense of his ally; and +secondly, as correcting the view of his own predominance and superior +earnestness for action, conveyed in his private correspondence and in De +Bazancourt’s narrative. + +The armies landed at Varna, and a campaign in Bulgaria was expected. “My +plan is,” quoth St Arnaud, “to save the fortress, and to push the +Russians into the Danube.” He tells his brother in Paris, that the +operation of moving to aid Silistria will be hazardous, for the Russians +may come down on his right and rear, seize the road of Varna and +Pravadi, and cut him off from the sea. “But, be easy,” he says +consolingly, “I have taken my precautions against the manœuvre, and I +will defeat it.” Not difficult to defeat, one might think, since the +enemy who should attempt it must be commanded by a lunatic. However, +while the Allies were still waiting in vain for the means of transport +to take the field, their difficulties and projects were ended by an +unlooked for incident. The Russians, finding the outermost barrier of +Turkey impregnable, raised the siege, and withdrew across the Danube. +The immense amount of military reputation which they thereby lost was +placed with interest to the credit of the Turks. But the position in +which the Allied Generals found themselves, thus hurrying to save a +fortress which saved itself, and left without an enemy, was extremely +bewildering. St Arnaud seems characteristically to have imagined that +the Russians were frightened by his reputation into retreat. “They fly +me,” he says, while lamenting the loss of a triumph for himself and his +army, which he had contemplated as certain. Not only the Generals but +their Governments were embarrassed and mortified at being thus baulked. +The Emperor’s object could not be attained by mere success without +glory. The British people, already impatient of delays, the causes of +which, though inevitable, they could not understand, were clamorous for +action. Nor did they content themselves with insisting that something +should be done. They indicated the line of action. Urged, as Mr Kinglake +contends, by the press, they shouted with one voice for an attack on +Sebastopol, and this measure the Government enjoined Lord Raglan to +execute. The French Government did not urge St Arnaud to propose the +step; but, if the English were willing for it, he was not at liberty to +withhold his consent. Two questions occur here: was the Government right +in thus ordering the commander of the army to take a step to which his +own judgment might be opposed? and was the step thus indicated a wise +one? + +Now, Mr Kinglake seems to think, that if the Government was justified in +controlling its General, it was only because its army was acting in +concert with that of another power, and was dependent on the aid of the +fleets. + + + “In common circumstances, and especially where the whole of the troops + to be engaged are under one commander, it cannot be right for any + Sovereign or any Minister to address such instructions as these to a + General on a distant shore; for the General who is to be intrusted + with the sole command of a great expedition must be, of all mankind, + the best able to judge of its military prudence, and to give him + orders thus cogent is to dispense with his counsel.” + + +We, on the other hand, think that the selection of the territory which +is to be the scene of operations, should always rest with the +Government, and for this reason, that the selection must depend even +more on political than on military considerations. Suppose, for +instance, that the Allied generals had desired to follow the enemy over +the Danube, it is evident that it would be of vast importance in the +campaign that would follow, whether Austria should be friendly, or +neutral, or hostile. But which she would be was a matter of which the +Generals could only be informed through their Governments, who must +possess the best information attainable on the subject. And again, the +effect of the invasion of the Crimea on Austrian counsels, on Russian +designs, and on English and French interests, were all political +considerations, to be decided by the Governments, and not by the +Generals. But, the territory fixed on, the manner of operating therein +should be left to the Commander—and this the British Government did. + +With regard to the other question, Mr Kinglake appears to think that, +after the Russians had evacuated the Principalities (as they did +immediately on re-crossing the Danube), there was no further ground for +continuing the war, and that a naval blockade would have forced her to +conclude peace. But to have forced her to make peace, returning to the +_statu quo_, would by no means have answered our ends, for it would have +left her to repeat the aggression on a more favourable opportunity, with +the advantage of better understanding the conditions of success. That +she would have consented at that time to give any pledge for the +security of Turkey, is incredible, if we consider the course taken by +her diplomatists at the conferences in the following year, when she had +suffered so severely. But to capture Sebastopol and its fleet, would +give us the security we wanted, and the pressure of the blockade might +then be depended on for ending the war. The question then, in our +judgment, resolves itself into this: Was there a reasonable hope of at +once succeeding in the object of the invasion; and was common foresight +exercised in providing for the possibility of failure? + +Events have answered the last question. Due provision was not made for +the possibility of a first failure. The country was aghast at the +position in which the army found itself; and we think that, in making +the statement we are about to quote, Mr Kinglake is recording a state of +opinion, which, though perfectly just, and always maintained to be just +in these pages, both during and after the war, had no existence at the +time he speaks of. + + + “Those who thought more warily than the multitude foresaw that the + enterprise might take time; but they also perceived that even this + result would not be one of unmixed evil; for if Russia should commit + herself to a lengthened conflict in the neighbourhood of Sebastopol, + she would be put to a great trial, and would see her wealth and + strength ruinously consumed by the mere stress of the distance between + the military centre of the empire and the south-westernmost angle of + the Crimea.” + + +All this is true; so true that Russia would have done well to leave +Sebastopol to its fate, rather than make those efforts to maintain it +which were so ruinous. Moreover the Crimea is, from its geographical +circumstances, always the most favourable point of Russian territory for +the operations of an enemy who commands the sea. Its form of an extended +peninsula renders it vulnerable at many points; it does not afford the +means of supplying the force necessary for its defence; and the supplies +and reinforcements, having to pass through a region that is always a +desert and sometimes a swamp, must be despatched with vast expense and +loss. The conditions of the theatre of operations selected were then all +in our favour; it only remained to provide adequately for the chances of +war, to render the enterprise judicious. + +But there was no thought except of speedy success. Beyond a triumphant +landing, battle, and assault, no man looked. It was a piece of national +gambling where an army was staked upon the turn of the cards; +inexcusable, therefore, even had the chances been still more in our +favour. + +Still the chances in our favour were great. The Russian force in the +Crimea was inferior in numbers. Sebastopol might have been captured with +the co-operation of the fleets. That co-operation was a main element of +success. We were deprived of it by Mentschikoff’s stroke of sinking his +ships, so as to block the harbour and exclude the fleets. Was this a +step, the possibility of which the Government of a great maritime nation +ought to have omitted from its calculations? It was not difficult—it was +even obvious—to anticipate that a fleet otherwise useless might thus be +turned to account. + +That the invasion was politically a fortunate step, we have no doubt. +All the sufferings, all the losses, all the expense, and all the +discontent at home, could not prevent the course of affairs from turning +ultimately to our advantage, because the distresses of the enemy were +far greater. Russia at the end of the war was absolutely prostrate, +while England was only beginning to handle her vast and increasing +resources. But this, as it was never contemplated, is beside the purpose +of estimating the wisdom of the people and the Government who committed +the armies to the enterprise. The Government is obnoxious to the charge +of not providing for a contingency that ought to have been foreseen, by +furnishing the means for sustained operations. And the Government might, +in great measure, exonerate itself at the expense of the nation. For +years before, no Member of Parliament could have proposed an increase on +the estimates in order to render the army an efficient engine of war, +without being covered with obloquy. At that time, what troops we had +were barely tolerated by the people. Considering all things, we cannot +think the step wise. But we are very strongly of opinion that, as a +means of coercing Russia, it was fortunate. + +Many conferences between the Allied Generals took place at Varna, and on +the voyage. No pictures can differ more widely than those of the +attitude of St Arnaud on these occasions, as drawn on the one hand by +himself and De Bazancourt, on the other by Mr Kinglake. In his own +letters, and in the veracious French Chronicle, he is the moving spirit +of the enterprise—he “dominates the discussion”—he infuses life into +everybody—nothing checks him except the slowness of the English. He is +feared by the Russians, admired by the British, adored by the French. Mr +Kinglake, on the contrary, represents him as being in council without +decision and without weight; glad to solve his own difficulties by +deferring to Lord Raglan; forming plans merely to abandon them; and +painfully conscious that he has not the hold on the respect of his own +army necessary to enforce his authority. He had become strongly +impressed with the idea that a landing would be best effected at the +mouth of the Katcha. It would be nearer Sebastopol. The position on the +Alma would thus be avoided; and the march over plains, where it might be +difficult to find water, would be unnecessary. On the other hand a +reconnoissance made by Lord Raglan and Sir John Burgoyne, with the +French Generals, showed that the mouth of the valley was narrow, that +the troops as they landed would be exposed to a flanking fire from guns +which would be, by their position, secure from the counter-fire of the +ships, and that the enterprise might be opposed by the whole Russian +army. These objections seemed to Lord Raglan so strong that he decided +on landing at Old Fort. The result showed the correctness of the +decision, for the landing was unopposed, and the single action of the +Alma cleared the way to Sebastopol. Nevertheless, St Arnaud, writing to +his brother after the landing, contends that he was right. “Observe, +brother,” he says, “I have a military instinct which never deceives me, +and the English have not made war since 1815.” + +Mr Kinglake’s account of the disembarkation which he witnessed, of the +delay caused by the mysterious shifting, by the French, of the buoy that +was to mark the spot for the operation—of the different modes of +treating the villagers practised by the English and by the French +troops, and of the march towards the Alma, are described with the +particularity and vivacity which might be expected from so keen an +observer, and so skilful a narrator. He rightly describes the movement +as being of the nature of that proper to movable columns. It was, in +fact, like the march of a convoy, where the escort was vast, and the +conditions favourable. The conditions were favourable, because the open +nature of the country permitted the waggons, instead of straggling along +a great extent of road, on any part of which they might be attacked, to +move in compact order near the entire army. But we quite agree with him +in thinking that the Russian leader showed great incapacity and culpable +want of enterprise in suffering the march to proceed unmolested. The +country was particularly favourable to cavalry, in which arm he was +greatly superior. By incessantly threatening the left flank he would +have compelled us to show front in that direction, and the whole army +would have been obliged to halt, under penalty of witnessing the defeat +of a separated portion. We could not have closed with the force thus +menacing us, because the effort to do so would have withdrawn us from +our proper direction, and from the sea, and because, also, the enemy +could always retire under cover of his cavalry, to a new position on our +flank. If Mentschikoff could have felt secure of being able to file into +position behind the Alma, in time to oppose us there, he might have +employed his whole army in this menacing movement. He made only one +effort of the kind, that on the Bulganak, where a skirmish took place; +but the demonstration was feeble, not supported, and of no avail as a +check, because the army had always designed to halt there for the night. +Nevertheless, the precautions taken by Lord Raglan, in throwing back the +left flank, before bivouacking, to meet a possible attack of the kind, +and the consequent delay in resuming the march next morning, show how +much was to be apprehended from such a mode of harassing us as was open +to a skilful leader. + +The ground on which the battle of the Alma was fought is not difficult +to understand. The plain over which the Allies advanced slopes gently +downward for a mile. At the bottom of the slope is a bank, and below the +bank a flat valley, three or four hundred yards wide, in which flows the +Alma. If, then, a person turning his back to the sea, at the mouth of +the river, moves up the Allies’ bank, he has on his right, across the +valley, for the first mile, a steep cliff, as if part of the coast-line +had turned back along the course of the river. The cliff then begins to +resolve itself into broken heights, still steep, but not impracticable. +These continue for nearly two more miles, when, the heights receding +still farther, the slope to the river becomes more gentle, and undulates +in knolls, the general character of the ground, however, being an upper +and lower line of heights, with an intermediate plateau. The ground +continues of this nature far up the stream. Everywhere the last summits +formed the edge of a plain which could not be seen from the Allies’ side +of the stream. + +The Russian cavalry prevented reconnoissances which would have given +some assurance of the manner in which Mentschikoff occupied the +position. In the absence of these, maps and plans, and a distant view, +coupled with a rough estimate of the enemy’s force, were all that could +be relied on. With such data as these afforded, Marshal St Arnaud came +to confer with Lord Raglan the night before the battle; and we must say +that we think Mr Kinglake is rather hard upon the Marshal in his +description of the interview. He seems to think there was something +presumptuous in the fact of his coming with a prepared plan, bringing +with him, too, a rough sketch of it drawn on paper. Now, that such a +conference was highly necessary between two commanders about to fight a +battle in concert, nobody will deny. And it is a very good thing, on +such occasions, to have a plan constructed on the probabilities, because +it serves as a basis for discussion. The Marshal’s plan was founded on +the conjecture, that, as the plain at the top of the cliff could be +swept by the guns of the ships, a space would be left near the sea +unoccupied by the Russians. Into that space he proposed to push two +divisions (Bosquet and the Turks), by two roads that led to it up the +cliff. The remaining divisions were to advance against the Russian +front; and he calculated that they would occupy so much of that front +that the movement of the British, forming the left of the Allies, would +be against the right flank of the enemy. + +Such was the plan that the Marshal brought to discuss with Lord Raglan. +But it seems that if he came with the hope of getting any suggestions or +ideas in exchange, he was disappointed. “Without either combating or +accepting the suggestion addressed to him, he simply assured the Marshal +that he might rely upon the vigorous co-operation of the British army. +The French plan seems to have made little impression on Lord Raglan’s +mind. He foresaw, perhaps, that the ingenuity of the evening would be +brought to nothingness by the teachings of the morrow.” And when they +came next day into presence of the enemy, Mr Kinglake says: “If Lord +Raglan had not already rejected the French plan of a flank attack by our +forces, it would now have fallen to the ground. It had never made any +impression on his mind.” In a note he says: “It became a plan simply +preposterous as soon as it was apparent that St Arnaud would not +confront any part of the Russian army except their left wing; for to +make two flank movements, one against the enemy’s left, and the other +against his right, and to do this without having any force wherewith to +confront the enemy’s centre, would have been a plan requiring no comment +to show its absurdity.” + +Now Lord Raglan’s part in the interview is meant, as recorded, to show +to his advantage. Yet we cannot think that this way of conducting +conferences can be considered as displaying talent. Anybody can appear +to conceal an opinion—even if he hasn’t got one. The Marshal might, +according to this account, justly feel himself aggrieved—first, for +having no notice taken of his plan; and, secondly, for having no grounds +afforded for acting in concert with his ally in the coming battle. Nor +do we think the plan absurd in principle, though it was erroneous in +details. If to turn one flank of an enemy is an advantage, to turn both +flanks will, in general, increase the advantage: whether it is +practicable depends on the relative length of the opposing lines. Now +the Russians had 39,000 men; the Allies had 63,000. And the English +order of battle enables our line to cover more ground than equal numbers +of the enemy. Therefore, after forming on an equal front, there would +still be at least 12,000 men disposable for the turning of each flank; +and 12,000 men on your flank is a serious matter. We say then that the +plan, which was, of course, a suggestion, to be modified according to +circumstances, was not in itself absurd in principle. + +The Marshal, therefore, with Lord Raglan’s concurrence, as the French +say—but, according to Mr Kinglake, with such expectations as he might +have derived from the foregoing not very explicit interview—proceeded to +execute his part of the plan by making his right column pass close to +the sea. This was an error, for it was founded on a false assumption; he +supposed the Russian left to be nearer the sea than it really was. He +could not ascertain the truth, because, as is not uncommon in battles, +he could not make a close reconnoissance, and the plain behind the +cliff, being invisible from below, might contain an unknown number of +Russians. A computation of the forces visible would not give certain +means of judging of this point, because troops had been joining +Mentschikoff from various parts—a large detachment had come in that +morning. + +The consequence, then, of this error was that more of the French line +than had been expected overlapped the Russians—so much so that those on +the extreme right never joined in the action. Moreover, they were on a +narrower front than their numbers warranted; for though three divisions +were in front, and two following them, yet the three in front formed two +lines. If the two in rear are to be considered as a reserve, it was +twice as large as is common. Thus the English only completed the front +necessary to correspond with the Russian front without overlapping it, +and their attack, therefore, was almost entirely a direct attack. The +right French column was thrown away. The next to it only engaged in a +distant artillery fire: even the third and fourth found themselves +opposed to a force inadequate to their numbers. As Mr Kinglake well +observes, if all the army had been of one nation, the direct attack +would not have been made till that on the flank had already shaken the +enemy’s line. But circumstances rendered it difficult to hold back the +English divisions. The French did nothing to be proud of in the battle. +We perfectly agree with Mr Kinglake that the official accounts and that +of De Bazancourt are mere bombastic inventions. We know that they were +opposed by numbers small in proportion to their own. That some of their +divisions showed but little _elan_ and made small progress, was evident +during the battle. And with regard to their losses, which St Arnaud +places at 1200, we do not deny that they may have lost that number of +men that day; but if they did, the cholera must have been unusually +severe on the 20th September, for there were no signs of such mortality +on the battle-field. + +The English then advanced, because the French demanded support, and +because it might not have been judicious to remain longer inactive when +our allies were engaged. Our divisions therefore advanced across the +river. In doing so their order was broken by several causes. First, the +vineyards and enclosures between the troops and the river; then the +river itself; and lastly, the fact that the divisions in deploying had, +by mistaking distance, considerably overlapped. It is evident that if an +inferior army about to be attacked in position could choose how the +attack should be made, it would desire that a great part of the enemy’s +force should be directed where it would be useless, and that the +remainder should make a direct advance. This was what the Allies did. +But though there was no great generalship, the soldiership of the +English was admirable. The divisional, brigade, and regimental officers +took advantage of a sheltering rim of ground on the opposite bank to +restore some degree of order in the broken ranks, and then led them +straight up the slope in the teeth of the Russian guns. Torn by +cannon-shot at close range, and by a hail of musketry from the numerous +infantry—for here Mentschikoff had placed his heaviest masses—they +nevertheless went on in a line which, if irregular, was still +irresistible, drove the Russians back, and captured a gun. Then, being +without support, having lost heavily, and being assailed by fresh +reserves, the front line gave way and retreated down the hill. But by +this time the Duke of Cambridge’s division was across the stream and +moving up. The broken masses passed through the ranks, which closed and +advanced solidly, with the same success as the first line, and the +success was more enduring. English guns, hitherto opposed to the Russian +artillery, were now brought across the stream—they were set free to do +so partly by the progress of the French on the flank, partly by the +action of two guns that Lord Raglan had brought across the stream in the +space between the armies, and which, taking the Russian line in reverse, +caused it to fall back. The English divisions thus maintained +themselves—the heavy columns that advanced against them were repulsed +partly by artillery, partly by the fire of the line—the Russians fell +back slowly to the top of the heights, and retreated along the plain, +pursued by the fire of our horse-artillery. The English batteries then +advanced. When they reached the plateau the enemy’s masses were already +at some distance, moving towards Sebastopol. The French on the right +were coming up so deliberately that it was evident they had no thought +of molesting the enemy’s retreat, and on a proposition being made to +them to join in a pursuit they declined it. + +Whether it was or was not owing to the cause to which Mr Kinglake +attributes it—namely, to the fact that the French leaders, selected as +they almost all were for their share in the _coup d’état_, were men in +whom the troops had no confidence—it is certain that the reputation of +the French army was not augmented by this action. The report of St +Arnaud paints their valour and skill in the most brilliant colours. He +does not scruple largely to exaggerate the numbers of the enemy. There +were, according to him, 40,000 Russian bayonets, 6000 cavalry, and 180 +guns opposed to the Allies. The true numbers were, according to Mr +Kinglake, 36,000 infantry, 3400 cavalry, and 108 guns. The advantages of +the Russians consisted in their strong position, their superiority in +cavalry, and their 14 heavy guns. The movement of the French was +ineffective, partly from misdirection, partly from their slowness to +close with the enemy. To the English, therefore, fell a task as +difficult as that which would have fallen to them in ordinary cases had +the Russians been equal in strength to the Allies—and the battle of the +Alma is eminently an English victory. + +It is evident that if the general of an inferior army can oppose one +great mass of his enemy with a small number of his troops, and is thus +at liberty to meet the remainder on equal terms, he has gained a great +point in his favour; and this Mentschikoff did. Yet we perfectly agree +with Mr Kinglake that Mentschikoff showed no talent, and did no justice +to his troops. As we have seen, he allowed the march to be unmolested. +He made no use of the time at his disposal to strengthen his position +artificially. Mr Kinglake rightly asserts this in contradiction to +official and other authorities. Fords might have been rendered +impracticable, roads obstructed, field-works thrown up, and the +advancing troops would thus have been detained under the heavy fire of +the defenders, till on closing, if they should succeed in closing, it +would be with numbers too much diminished for success. But there were no +intrenchments nor obstacles worth mentioning on the field. And we regret +to observe that Mr Kinglake, though he explains in a note that he knows +the term to be inapplicable, and that he only follows an established +precedent, talks of the position of the Russian battery as “the Great +Redoubt.” We regret it, because the impression conveyed is false to +those who do not know the truth, and irrelevant to those who do. The +only work was a bank of earth not a yard high, which partially covered +the Russian guns of position, and which was probably intended as much +for preventing them from running down the hill as for anything else. +There were no embrasures, for, as the guns looked over the bank, none +were necessary; it had not even the additional impediment of a ditch in +front, the earth which formed it being taken from spaces dug between the +guns. It was no more like a “Great Redoubt,” than it was like the Great +Wall of China. And this being the case, all such expressions as +“storming” are quite inapplicable. + +It is evident that, if an army superior in numbers wishes to bring its +superiority to bear, it must outflank the enemy on one or both sides. +Which flank, then, would it have been best in the present case to turn? +The French turned the left. There was the natural temptation of +advancing over ground where the turning columns were protected by the +fire of the fleet. But they moved against an imaginary foe, and a large +part of the force might have been as well on board ship for all the +effect it had on the action. Moreover, though the turning movement was +completed, yet it had none of its legitimate effects, for the Russians +left only two guns and no prisoners. It is clear then that none of the +advantages to be expected from a successful attack in flank followed +here. + +Now suppose—as there are but two flanks to an enemy, and no great things +had been done by turning one—that the manœuvre had been effected against +the other. The Allies would have moved away from the sea up the river. +The road next the sea was closed to the Russians by the ships’ +broadsides. Opposite the next road, that by which Bosquet led his second +brigade, the Turks might have been left. The right of the French would +then have been where the right of the English really was, that is, in +the village of Bourliouk. And the English would have stretched so far +beyond the enemy’s right, that at least three divisions would have been +available for turning that flank. To the Russians, seeing this, only +certain alternatives would be possible: either to try to thrust +themselves between us and the sea—in which case the cliff would have +restricted them to the one road guarded by the Turks, and where any part +of their force that made the attempt would be lost if it should fail, as +it certainly would fail; or, secondly, an extension of their already +sufficiently extended line till its length corresponded with that of the +Allies, by which extension it would be fatally weakened; or, thirdly, a +movement of the entire army to the right, which would have uncovered the +Sebastopol road, and was therefore not to be thought of. Therefore the +Russians must have stood to fight on the ground they occupied, throwing +back their right wing to meet the threatened attack on their flank. The +Allied artillery should then have been massed—one portion to oppose the +great battery, one to pour a storm of shot on the right wing, the object +of attack; and the horse-artillery and one or two batteries, after +flanking the advance from their own side of the river, should have been +held ready to follow the flanking columns of attack as soon as they +should be established on the other bank. The advance, instead of being +in echelon from the right, would be in echelon from the left—the Light +Division, followed by the First and Fourth, would make the turning +movement and attack the right wing—the remaining English divisions would +advance upon the centre, and upon the angle formed by the centre and +right; and, as soon as the Russian line fronting the river should be +shaken by the front and flank attack and the reverse fire, the French +divisions advancing would find their share of the task easy. Two results +would have followed, both important—the first, that the position would +have been carried with much less loss of life—secondly, that the losses +of the Russians would have been far greater. For it is to be observed +that, by turning the left of the Russians, and interposing between them +and the sea, they were driven back along their proper line of retreat; +whereas, had the right been turned, the English left wing, pushing +obliquely across the enemy’s rear, would have reached the Sebastopol +road on the top of the plateau, and the result of that would have been +to drive the beaten troops towards the sea, and to enclose all that part +of the Russian left which should be last to retreat between our line and +the cliffs, thus capturing many prisoners. And as the enemy were +superior in cavalry, the English left must have carefully guarded +itself, during its advance, from the Russian horse, first, by our +artillery on our own side of the river, and afterwards by guns following +in support, by battalions on the left echeloned in squares, and by our +own cavalry. Many reasons, then, induce us to consider the French attack +a mistake. And the more complete turning movement which Mr Kinglake +seems, as if by authority, to ascribe to Marshal Pelissier, as what _he_ +would have done—namely, “to avoid all encounter with the enemy on his +chosen stronghold by taking ample ground to their left, and boldly +marching round him”—would have been objectionable, inasmuch as it would +have left no option of retreating on Eupatoria, in case the attack +should prove unsuccessful; and no plan can be sound that does not +provide for the contingency of defeat. + +Mr Kinglake modestly declines to give an opinion on the question of what +plan might have been better. But he need not have scrupled to do so, as +he deals extremely well with the technicalities of military art. His +account of the manœuvres preceding and during the battle is remarkably +clear. His discussion as to the respective merits of lines and columns +shows that he thoroughly appreciates the philosophy of the subject. But +it is not so much to the credit of his estimate of what constitutes +generalship, that he implies so great approval of Lord Raglan’s solitary +ride beyond the enemy’s front, and of his continued occupation of the +knoll there throughout the stress of the battle. Of course it would be a +great advantage to a general in every action to be able to see exactly +what was passing in rear of the enemy’s line. But it would be an +advantage only as it would give him the means of directing his own +troops with greater certainty. To see the enemy’s rear, at the expense +of losing the control of his own army, would be quite the reverse of an +advantage. And imagine the state of things if two opposing generals in a +battle should be absorbed in their efforts to pass, like two pawns at +chess, behind the opposing lines. If it had appeared to the general that +an opportunity existed for wedging a part of his force within a weak +spot of the enemy’s line, staff officers might have been sent to +ascertain the fact, while the guns and their escort required to effect +the manœuvre might have been brought from the reserve, or the nearest +available division, and posted in readiness to advance. We know that +during this excursion of Lord Raglan the English divisions were confused +for want of a controlling power to direct them. The action of the +English artillery was without unity, at a time when a concentrated fire +against the hill on which the attack was to be made would have had a +most important influence on the result. Mr Kinglake tells us that Lord +Raglan from his knoll witnessed the first advance of the troops of our +first line, and saw that they would not be able to hold their ground +because they were not supported; but adds, that he did not attempt to +apply a remedy, because no order sent by him could possibly arrive in +time to be of service. Surely this of itself might have convinced Mr +Kinglake that the general’s place was elsewhere. And we will add, that, +at the close of the struggle, our successful troops did not receive that +impulsion which none but the supreme directing authority can give, and +which was necessary to push the victory home. + +But though we do not think the occasions for praising Lord Raglan are +always judiciously chosen, we thoroughly agree in Mr Kinglake’s estimate +of the character of that kind excellent gentleman and gallant soldier. +His tact, temper, and bearing were all of a kind calculated to be of +eminent service in an allied command, and secured to him at once the +attachment of his own army and the respect of the French. + +Mr Kinglake has scarcely accomplished half of that task which is so +weighty, but which his qualities as a narrator have made to seem so +light. And it is because so many events yet remain to receive his +impress, that we would venture to remind him how the French army in the +Crimea, though it did not by its first achievements enhance its +reputation, yet performed many great and gallant actions. The aid which +Bosquet brought us at Inkermann, though long in coming, was effectual. +The part of the French in that battle, infantry and artillery, was +highly honourable. They often maintained terrible conflicts in the +trenches, where both sides fought well, but where the French were +victors. Their arrangements for receiving the attack on the Tchernaya +were such that the assailant never had a chance of penetrating their +lines. And their terrible losses in the final assault prove the +magnitude of the obstacles they encountered, and the ardour with which +they overcame them. But while we do not forget this, neither can we +regret that thus far Mr Kinglake has sought to redress the balance of +history, by awarding to our army its share of credit. Reputation is the +breath of its nostrils, and our allies have appeared but too desirous to +monopolise what was gained in this war. + +And we also venture to observe that Mr Kinglake’s enemies—and he has +scattered in these volumes dragon’s teeth enough to produce a plentiful +crop—may find occasion to say that in praising his friends he is equally +uncompromising as in censuring his foes. Small traits of character +receive undue prominence, small merits, undue laudation; as, for +instance, when the way in which the Highland Brigade was made to drink +at the Bulganak is praised as if it were a stroke of military genius, +and where a paragraph is devoted to describing how its commander +pronounced the not very remarkable words, “Forward, 42d!” and when it is +further added, “‘As a steed that knows his rider,’ the great heart of +the battalion bounded proudly to his touch,” Mr Kinglake lets himself +slip into a style much beneath his own. But what no enemy can deny is +the extraordinary animation, clearness, sustained interest, and dramatic +as well as descriptive excellence of the work. A vast field for these +qualities yet remains—the flank march, the commencement of the siege, +the hurricane, the action of Balaklava (fine soil for dragon’s teeth), +the battle of Inkermann, the long calamities and glories of the +trenches, the death of the Czar, and of the English commander, the final +assault, and the destruction of the stronghold—into all these scenes we +shall follow Mr Kinglake, confident of seeing them treated by a great +artist. + +As a concluding remark, we will say that we think no history of this war +can be complete which does not devote a chapter to the discussion of the +causes which made the British army of 1854 so different, in all except +fighting power, from the British army of 1814, as a machine of war. The +long peace, the growth of the commercial spirit, the Peace Party, the +administration of the army by the Duke of Wellington, and the influence +of the long-continued public demand for economy, must all be taken into +account before the breaking down of that machine, as to be recorded +hereafter, can be fairly and fully accounted for, and a true comparison +drawn between our military system and that of the French. + + + + + THE OPENING OF THE SESSION. + + +The Session has commenced under circumstances so unfavourable to the +Ministry that even their most sanguine friends are dejected. The omens +are unmistakably against them, and the auspices are corroborated by the +more palpable evidence of hard facts. The Session was barely a week old +when the first division took place, and left the Ministry in a minority. +It was a Government question, but the Opposition motion, brought forward +by Mr Peacocke, was carried by the large majority of 113 to 73. This was +a bad beginning; and, unenlightened by the result, the Ministry have +since then exposed themselves to, and undergone, two similar defeats. +The events of the same week out-of-doors brought them a worse and less +avoidable disaster. Two elections went against them. We certainly do not +claim the Cambridge election as any great triumph of Conservative +principles, but it was a blow to the Ministry. Lord Palmerston’s +reputation is deservedly great, and in not a few elections the +Ministerial candidate has escaped defeat by proclaiming himself simply a +Palmerstonian, and asserting that the Premier was as good a Conservative +as any member of the Opposition. The ex-member for Cambridge, Mr +Steuart, although returned as a Conservative, subsequently became a +“Palmerstonian;” but no sooner did his constituents obtain an +opportunity of showing their sentiments by their votes, than they +declared in favour of a Conservative who avowed himself an opponent of +Lord Palmerston. This, we say, may be called a trifle, but it is a straw +which shows which way the wind is blowing. The other electoral +contest—at Devonport—was a very different affair. In former elections +for that borough the Liberals had won the day. Moreover, owing to the +large Government dockyards, the constituency of Devonport is peculiarly +amenable to Ministerial influence. In spite of all this, the Ministerial +candidate, although strenuously backed by the whole influence of the +Admiralty, and himself a Grey to boot, has been defeated, and one of the +most stanch of Conservatives, and a thorough party-man, Mr Ferrand, has +been elected by a majority of thirty. This is a triumph for the +Opposition too remarkable to be explained away. The Government has been +defeated in its own dockyard. Driven to candour by the very magnitude of +the disaster, a Ministerial journal[11] says:—“It is a surprising +innovation. Constituencies like Devonport, where the Government is a +great employer of labourers having votes, have hitherto been considered +almost as nomination boroughs.” Even the Whigs have got sick of +“innovations” now, finding they will no longer go down with the public; +but such an innovation as that accomplished by the constituency of +Devonport must cut them to the heart. If they can no longer get their +candidates returned even in Government pocket boroughs, what are they to +do? In Ireland a Government appointment went a-begging for a year, +because no Whig member would risk the new election that must follow his +acceptance of it. It would seem that the Government are now in the same +sad predicament on both sides of the Irish Channel. + +Obviously the “Conservative reaction” has entered upon a new phase. The +country is resolved to have not only a Conservative policy, but a +Conservative Ministry. At first, when it was seen that the Whig Ministry +abandoned its mischievous attempts to degrade the franchise, many +constituencies contented themselves with electing men of Conservative +tendencies, even though they gave a general support to the Government. +But this feeling is dying away; neutrality is being abandoned for active +opposition. The change is doubtless due to more causes than one. But the +chief influence in producing the change is a love of fair-play. This is +peculiarly the case in regard to the English constituencies, where +public opinion is more calm and better balanced on political questions +than it is in the sister kingdoms. There is a striking difference, we +may remark, in the modes of political feeling and action which +characterise the three great sections of the United Kingdom. +Party-spirit and religious zeal (which, though generally, are not always +coincident forces) predominate in Ireland. In Scotland, although the +ecclesiastical spirit is very strong, the peculiar characteristic of the +people in politics is their attachment to ideas pure and simple: they +are the great theorists and innovators, and will go all lengths in the +logical application of their principles. Fortunately the English +constituencies are admirable ballast, and keep straight the vessel of +the State. They care little for “ideas,” but a great deal for good and +safe government: they are businesslike and matter-of-fact, and, above +all things, are lovers of fair-play. In many an English constituency the +representation, by mutual agreement, is divided between the rival +parties. A Whig and a Tory are returned together, or two Tories and a +Whig, or one Tory and two Whigs; and in some boroughs, where there is a +great landed proprietor who owns nearly the whole area of the borough, +the duke or other magnate is allowed to name one member and the majority +of the constituency the other. This is a businesslike compromise which +aptly illustrates English character. Every one knows that property must +have a great influence, whether wielded by a territorial magnate or by a +millowner; but in assigning one seat to the magnate, the constituency +is, by a well-understood agreement, left free to choose its own man for +the other, without any interference on the part of the magnate’s +influence. In the other case (which generally occurs in counties), where +the representation is divided, equally or unequally, between the rival +political parties, the same spirit of compromise is apparent. It saves +many contested elections, and it is likewise a virtual adoption of the +principle of the representation of minorities. Scotchmen would do none +of these things: a divided representation would seem to them as good as +none. As long as any party in a Scotch constituency has a majority, +however small, it will insist upon carrying its own men. The spirit of +compromise which distinguishes English constituencies arises partly from +their love of fair-play, partly from the fact that they are not such +fervid politicians as the Scotch, and deal with politics not as an +affair of immutable principles or scientific deduction, but as an +ordinary business matter, which they decide by striking a balance of the +miscellaneous considerations which affect them. Now, that balance is +turning every day more strongly against the Liberals. The Scotch may +think it best to have Liberals in office even though they carry out a +Conservative policy. But Englishmen don’t like this. In the first place, +it is not fair. Each side should have its innings, and the Whigs have +confessedly played out their game. Office has its sweets, and John Bull +thinks that it is more than time that the Tories should get their turn +of the good things. A man cannot live upon politics any more than upon +love; and although to the leading statesmen on both sides the emoluments +of office are as nothing, the tenure of political power by one party or +the other makes a material difference to each. John Bull understands +this. Moreover, if the retention of office by the Liberals is not fair, +it is also not manly or honest. John Bull, like old George III., does +not like “Scotch metaphysics.” He does not appreciate the casuistical +reasoning by which it may be shown that a Ministry which took office to +do one thing, may stay in office to do the opposite. Since the Whigs +have given up their principles, he thinks they should also give up their +places. Doubtless too, if he takes any interest in the morals of +Whiggery (which we greatly doubt, seeing they are so purely +speculative), he must come to the conclusion that the principles of the +party are rotting so fast on the Treasury seats that it is high time to +give them an airing in the bracing atmosphere of the Opposition benches. + +The country now sees that, if it had known the truth four years ago, the +present Ministry would never have been in existence. The Whigs and +Radicals overthrew the Conservative Government in 1859 by means of false +statements and false professions. It took some time before the real +state of the case could be demonstrated, but gradually it was made plain +by the conduct of the Liberals themselves. Slowly but steadily the truth +has dawned upon the constituencies: they feel that they were duped by +the present occupants of office, and they are now conscious also that +they did injustice to the Conservatives. The Whig chiefs who, before +they got into office, deemed Parliamentary Reform a matter of such +urgency that they promised to hold a special session in November in +order to pass a Reform Bill, first delayed to fulfil their promise, and +then threw up the matter altogether. The excuse which they plead is, +that they found Parliament unfavourable to any further tampering with +the constitution. But if Parliament was right, they themselves were +condemned; if it were wrong, why did they not dissolve, and appeal to +the country? Had they been in earnest, they would have dissolved: but +they knew that a dissolution would have been followed by the election of +a Parliament still more hostile to them and to their measure. And +therefore they chose rather to remain self-condemned, and to be pointed +at with the finger of scorn, by the one party as recreants, by the other +as impostors, rather than save their honour at least by the sacrifice of +office. This tells against them now. The revulsion of public feeling was +not, and could not be, immediate—for the duplicity and insincerity of +the Ministry only revealed itself by degrees; but it was certain from +the first, and has now become overwhelming. The Ministry have come to be +regarded with contempt, and every new election is taken advantage of by +the constituencies to give expression to their censure. But this is not +the whole of the change which the last four years have wrought on the +public mind. Alongside of the consciousness of the sins and demerits of +the present Ministry, there has arisen the conviction that the +principles of the Conservative party are the right ones for the country. +The constituencies now feel not only that the present Ministry is a bad +one, but that its predecessor was a good one. They have become sensible +that, if any Reform Bill were needed at all, the Bill brought forward by +Mr Disraeli was the one that best deserved to be adopted. They are now +conscious that if any change at all were requisite in the matter of +Church-rates, Mr Walpole’s Bill was well deserving of support, and that +the measure of total abolition to which the present Ministry have +pledged themselves is wholly out of the question. Finally, and for a +good while past, the country has come to see that, led away by the +misrepresentations of the Whigs, it did gross injustice to the foreign +policy of the Conservative Government. We do not know by what fatality +it was that Lord Malmesbury’s despatches on the Italian question were +not published until too late to affect the division on the vote of want +of confidence in June 1859. Had they been published earlier, we believe +the issue of that division would have been different. Every one may +remember (or may see for himself by referring to the file) the effect +which the publication of those despatches produced on the ‘Times,’ and +how the leading journal, thus enlightened as to the facts, frankly, and +without any reservation, admitted that Lord Malmesbury had been right +throughout. And certainly no one can forget how Lord John Russell, when +taking farewell of the House of Commons, took occasion—or rather made +occasion—to say that he approved of the policy of his predecessor, and +that (which is more than his colleagues could say) he had been of that +opinion from the beginning. The impression, originated and studiously +fostered by Lord Palmerston and his followers, that the Conservatives +are unfriendly to the cause of freedom and independence in Italy, is +totally unfounded. They have certainly mistrusted the disinterestedness +of the policy of the French Emperor, and have cautioned the Italian +Government against seeking to reach the height of its ambition by +machinations which would only redound to its own disadvantage: and on +both of these points the Italians themselves must now be convinced that +the warnings and advices of the Conservative statesmen were wellfounded. +At all events, taught by a bitter experience, the Italian Government is +now following the very course which the Conservatives recommended. We +may add a word on our own part. The Magazine will certainly be admitted +to be as sound an exponent of Conservatism as is to be found either in +or out of Parliament, and we can refer to our own pages to demonstrate +how heartily we have sympathised with the Italian cause, wherever it was +not marred by such secret traffickings with the French Government, as +the Italians themselves now regret and condemn; or by violations of law +which, though natural to times of revolution, may be condoned, but +cannot be approved. + +The Ministerial programme for the present Session contains another +confession of errors on the part of the Government, and a fresh proof of +the wisdom of the opinions of the Conservative party. Destitute, as +usual, of the capacity to originate measures of useful legislation, the +Budget is to be brought forward early, to cover the prospective +barrenness of the Session. And what is the feature of this year’s +Budget, upon which the Ministry rely to cover their flagrant incapacity +in other matters of administration? It is a reduction of the naval and +military estimates! It is the adoption of the very course so earnestly +advocated last year by the Opposition, and so strenuously resisted by +the Government. Hardly eight months have elapsed since Lord Palmerston +and his colleagues confidently and haughtily maintained that no +reduction could be made upon the large sums voted for the support of the +national armaments, without destroying the influence and safety of the +country. Mr Disraeli, during last Session, argued strongly in favour of +making such a reduction, on the ground that so heavy an expenditure was +uncalled for, and was in reality damaging to our military power, by +trenching so deeply upon the financial resources of the State. Again and +again he pressed these views upon the Government—it was his constant +theme all through last Session; but the Government refused to accept the +warnings, and resolutely maintained that no reduction could be made. +What, then, are we to think of them now? In what respect is the attitude +of the times more favourable for a reduction now than it was eight +months ago? In so far as there has been any change, the change has been +clearly for the worse. There has been a revolution in Greece, of the +issues of which as yet we have hardly seen the beginning. Servia has +been arming, by the secret assistance of Russia; and the Danubian +Principalities, and northern provinces of Turkey generally, are in a +more unquiet state than they have been for years. And now we have a +revolution in Poland, which is throwing all Central Europe into +agitation, and furnishing fresh opportunities for the intrigues or +intervention of other Powers. So far, then, as there has been any change +in the situation since last summer, the change, we repeat, has been for +the worse. Nothing could demonstrate more strikingly than this the +consciousness of the Government that they were wrong last Session, and +that the Conservatives were right. It is a new triumph for the +Conservative party—a fresh condemnation of themselves by the Ministry. +The trump card with which the Ministry are to lead off this Session has +been stolen from the hands of the Opposition. + +It is high time, indeed, that the Chancellor of the Exchequer were +retrenching his expenditure; for, weak as the Administration has been in +other respects, the management of the finances has been peculiarly +disastrous. Although the present Ministry took office with a surplus, +which they owed to their predecessors, in the two succeeding years +(1860–2) in which Mr Gladstone had the exclusive direction of the +finances, his mismanagement accumulated a deficit of four millions +sterling. Nor is this all. For in the same period Mr Gladstone +anticipated the revenue of the country to the extent of +£3,200,000,—namely, £2,000,000 anticipated upon the income-tax, and +upwards of £1,200,000 upon the malt-credit. This enormous deficit—_seven +and a half millions sterling_—was, moreover, accumulated during a period +when the national Exchequer enjoyed windfalls such as very rarely come +to the aid of a Minister of Finance. The falling-in of the terminable +annuities has reduced the charges on the National Debt to the extent of +£2,000,000; and there was also the unexpected repayment of a portion of +the Spanish loan. Mr Gladstone, therefore, has enough to do with the +surplus which he will obtain by the proposed reduction of the +expenditure. He has first to restore the Exchequer balances to their +proper amount, by repaying the £2,684,000 which he abstracted from them +to meet his exigencies between March 1860 and March 1862. He has +likewise to get rid of the addition to the National Debt which he +created, to the extent of £461,000. And, finally, he has to cease his +forestalments of the revenue. When he has done these things, where will +be his surplus? Mr Gladstone, in former times, used to denounce the +slightest forestalment of the yearly revenue as a flagrant “violation of +political morality;” and there is no question that such a procedure can +only be excused under exceptional circumstances and to a very small +amount. The House of Commons, therefore, as watchful guardians of the +public revenue, will surely call upon the Chancellor of the Exchequer to +restore matters to their normal condition before he does anything else. +The same must be done in regard to the Exchequer balances. And if it be +not an equally pressing necessity to pay off the £461,000 of new debt, +surely Mr Gladstone, who aspires to the reputation of a great Finance +Minister, will be ashamed to leave unpaid off a portion of the national +obligations which will hereafter be known as “Gladstone’s Debt.” +Unfortunately, when we think of 1853–4, we must allow that this is not +the only portion of the National Debt which may be thus designated. + +Most financiers, and all sound ones, in such circumstances, would devote +the surplus of revenue which might accrue to redressing the adverse +balance of former years. But Mr Gladstone belongs to a new school. He +leaves the balances to come right as they may, or bequeaths them as an +embarrassment to his successor; while he goes on in his seemingly +endless process of devising financial alterations, which always leave +him deeper in the mire. He loves to carry every inch of canvass—he +crowds all sail as he drives his financial pinnace through strange +waters; but he has shipped so many seas that the Exchequer has become +waterlogged. He had better bale out the water before he goes any +further. But this is precisely what he will not do. He must have a +“sensation” budget. He must reduce some branches of the revenue and +experiment with more. Already he lifts up a corner of the curtain to +give us a glimpse of the grand tableau of jugglery which he has in store +for us; and in due time the House will be wheedled and overwhelmed by +the suave rhetoric of the great financial juggler. Possibly, however, +the country will think that it has had too much of this already. It +thinks of the cheap paper and cheap wines, and cannot see anything in +these changes to atone for a deficit of seven millions and a half. Mr +Gladstone’s abolition of the paper-duties was done not only at a wrong +time, but in a wrong way. He not only landed himself in a deficit, but +he landed the papermakers in a dilemma. He struck off the excise-duty on +the one hand and the import-duty on paper on the other, and called it +“free trade;” but while making free trade in the manufactured article, +he ought to have taken care that there should be free trade likewise in +the raw material. Several Continental countries send their paper, +untaxed, to compete in the English markets with the produce of our own +paper-mills, while at the same time they place a prohibitory duty on the +export to our shores of rags. Our papermakers do not object to fair +competition, but they object to be subjected by legislative enactment to +so serious a disadvantage. If the crop of cotton in America were to fall +off in extent (as it has done during this civil war), and the Americans, +when peace is restored, were to place (as they have talked of doing) a +prohibitory duty upon the export of cotton, while we did not retaliate +by placing an import-duty on the manufactured article from their ports, +what would our manufacturers think of this sort of “free trade?” Why, +such a state of matters would produce a calamity in our manufacturing +districts equal to that under which we are now suffering, and ruin the +cotton industry in this country permanently. Yet this is the condition +of affairs which Mr Gladstone voluntarily chooses to impose upon our +paper manufacture, in deference to the clamour and exhortations of his +Radical friends. What has become of the touching picture which the +eloquent financier portrayed of paper-mills springing up all over the +country,—when every hamlet was to have its little factory, engaging the +surplus labour of the lads and lasses; and every glen that had a +streamlet was to be made musical with the noise of a paper-mill? We have +not heard of any such results—we have not heard of any extension at all +of the manufacture; and as for Mr Gladstone’s arcadian dreams of +paper-making, while foreign Governments act towards us in the way they +do, he surely cannot possibly hope for their realisation—unless, indeed, +he expects the whole country to go to rags under his financial +mismanagement. + +The other basis upon which Mr Gladstone founds his reputation as a great +financier, and as an ample compensation for his past annual deficits, is +his reduction of the duties upon French wines. We readily admit that +these wines have been poured into this country in greatly increased +quantities during the last eighteen months; but will this continue? And +what is the advantage we derive from the change? “Gladstone’s wines” has +become a current name for these beverages, but it is certainly not a +“household word.” Any one who confesses, with rueful face, that he has +made acquaintance with these wines, never fails to explain that it was +at another man’s table, or at some villanous restaurant’s,—never at his +own. No decanter will circulate if its contents are known to have been +favoured by the legislation of Mr Gladstone. People have become wary and +suspicious at dinner-parties now; and a Paterfamilias may be heard +giving the caution which old Squire Hazeldean gave to his son when about +to dine with Dr Riccabocca, “Whatever you take, Frank, don’t touch his +wines!” Those “cheap wines” have been tried—or, at least, if tried, have +been condemned and discarded at every respectable dinner-table. They +don’t suit the middle classes; that is an incontrovertible fact. We are +not less sure they are equally ill suited to the tastes and requirements +of the working-classes. They have hitherto been tried largely as a +novelty; but they do not improve on acquaintance, even if we could +forget the much better use which Mr Gladstone could have made of his +opportunities. Depend upon it, Nature knows better than any Chancellor +of the Exchequer how to provide for our bodily wants, and supplies the +essential wants of each people from the products of their own country. +Let our working-classes get good beer at its natural price, and it will +be infinitely better for their health, and more to their taste, than +giving them cheap foreign wines, whose thinness and acidity are not +suited for our climate, and which cannot compete with beer as nourishers +and supporters of the bodily strength. When we remember, on the one +hand, that seven and a half millions sterling have been lost to the +country in Mr Gladstone’s financial experiments; and, on the other, how +much better would have been a reduction on the duties of tea, sugar, and +beer, it will be admitted that he could hardly have wasted so much money +with less benefit to the community. Abundance of acid wines and plenty +of paper—it is a curious prescription for Mr Gladstone to found his +reputation upon. + +But Mr Gladstone is resolved to proceed in his eccentric course. His +crotchet this year is to cheapen tobacco. Three and a half years ago (in +November 1859) Mr Bright delivered two orations at public meetings in +favour of the abolition of the duties on tea, sugar, and tobacco, and +the substitution therefor of an enormous income-tax. But Mr Bright +thought that the tea and sugar duties were more deserving of reduction +than the duty on tobacco, whereas Mr Gladstone gives a preference to +tobacco. How is this to be accounted for? On the surface it appears a +new piece of financial eccentricity; and in every view of the matter the +Chancellor of the Exchequer, we should think, will find no small +difficulty in obtaining the consent of Parliament to his proposal. There +can be no question that tea, sugar, and beer have each and all prior +claims upon the favour of Parliament, if the wellbeing of the community +is to be consulted. But Mr Gladstone, in the speech which he made when +introducing his proposal, propounded the extraordinary doctrine that a +Chancellor of the Exchequer (and of course the Government which must +approve his acts) has nothing to do with the wellbeing of the community. +His only duty, says Mr Gladstone, is to get as much money as possible +out of the taxed commodities. Judged by this rule, Mr Gladstone has +certainly been a most unsuccessful Minister. We cannot, indeed, accept +this view of a Minister’s obligations to the country; but, even if it +were accepted, it would not furnish any justification of Mr Gladstone’s +proposal. He says that the present duty upon tobacco is so high that +smuggling is carried on to a large extent, and cannot be prevented by +the Custom-house officers. This would be a good argument for abolishing +the duty or reducing it to a trifling amount, but it is totally +inapplicable to the case when he proposes to leave a tax of five +shillings a-pound on manufactured tobacco, which is more than equal to +the price of the best manufactured tobacco, freight included. The +smuggler would still make a profit of more than a hundred per cent on +the value of the commodity; and does any one believe that smuggling +would cease, or even be sensibly diminished, when the premium upon +smuggling is so great, and when (as Mr Gladstone states) the facilities +of evasion are so plentiful? If Mr Gladstone were honest in the plea +upon which he rests his proposal for this reduction of customs-duty, he +would be labouring under a great delusion. But we take another view of +the matter. It seems to us that his real object is secretly to carry out +Mr Bright’s scheme of finance, and with great craft he begins with the +duties on tobacco, where his operations are least likely to excite +suspicion, but which, if accomplished, will render the subsequent steps +of the scheme not only easy but inevitable. There may be little to find +fault with in the present proposal considered by itself; but what is its +bearing in regard to our financial system? Reduce the duty on tobacco, +and what other customs-duty can be maintained? Mr Gladstone was never +more eloquent and plausible than when proposing to reduce the duty on +foreign wines; now he is playing the same artful game in regard to +tobacco. Can Parliament be any longer blind to the course to which he is +committing it? Honest financiers, who could afford to make a reduction +of taxation, would begin with tea, sugar, and beer, as the duties on +these can be remitted with the greatest advantage to the community; +while those on luxuries, such as foreign wines and tobacco, could be +maintained without inconvenience or complaint. But just for this very +reason Mr Gladstone, who aims at accomplishing Mr Bright’s scheme of +taxation, begins at the other end—knowing well that if he can reduce the +taxes on tobacco as well as on foreign wines, the _abolition_ of the +other customs-duties will follow as a natural consequence. A reduction +to the extent of one-half the duties on luxuries cannot be balanced save +by totally abolishing the duties on the necessaries of life. We have a +strong conviction that this is his game; for the good reason that upon +no other supposition is his conduct intelligible. Mr Gladstone is not a +fool; he must have an adequate motive for this seemingly crotchety +course; and we believe we have named it. Let the House of Commons look +to it, before they are led too far into the toils to be able to recede. + +Plausible in the extreme, and ever seeking to conciliate or overreach +his audience by all the arts of rhetoric and casuistry, Mr Gladstone +changes his arguments and mode of dealing with the House almost every +year, as may best suit his plans. Financial principles he has none—save +the great one which he conceals. All arguments are fair, he thinks—all +professions of opinion justifiable, in order that he may carry his +point, and lead the House step by step unwittingly towards his goal. We +need not allude to the rhetorical craft by which, in 1860, when he +wished to gain the assent of the House to an increase of the income-tax, +he maintained that there was a deficit of twelve millions; whereas, in +the following year, when the balance was worse by 2½ millions, but when +he eagerly desired to obtain the abolition of the paper-duties, he +boldly represented that there was a surplus. At one time he represents +that the proper way to proceed with a Budget is by a multiplicity of +separate bills; at another time (when it suits his purpose better) in +the form of a single bill. But his disregard of financial principles, or +rather his alternate adoption and repudiation of principles the most +opposite, is a still more glaring offence. In the case of the French +Treaty, he was wholly in favour of Reciprocity; in the case of the +Paper-duties, he represented that it was right for us to abolish them +without any attempt at obtaining reciprocity, and although some +countries actually prohibited the export of the raw material of the +manufacture! He reduced the duty on French wines on the ground that the +reduction would benefit the morals of the working-classes, by enabling +them to drink light wines instead of strong spirits; he now justifies +his proposed reduction of the duty on tobacco on the very opposite +principle—to wit, that a Chancellor of the Exchequer has nothing +whatever to do with the morals or wellbeing of the people. His dogma for +the hour is, that his only duty is to make the taxes as profitable as +possible. We have shown that it is very doubtful if his present proposal +will have that effect; but, in any case, how would his new dogma accord +with his policy in the last two years in wholly abolishing the duties on +paper and other commodities? He is the most dangerous Minister that has +ever been intrusted with the management of the British finances. He has +not only involved the country in an accumulation of deficits, but he has +had the art to persuade Parliament to do this with its eyes open; while +at the same time he leads it onward, with its eyes carefully bandaged, +towards the goal of democratic finance—which of late years has become +the cynosure of his policy, and which he knows would at once become +unattainable if his real purpose were avowed. + +Now that we are to have a surplus—in consequence of the Ministry at +length adopting the views of the Opposition—the first duty which +devolves upon the House of Commons is to retrieve the financial mistakes +of the past, and to rid us of its burdens. What the Conservative leaders +advocated last session was not reduction of taxation, but retrenchment +of expenditure. The Government had incurred a deficit of £7,500,000 in +two years, and the first thing to be thought of was, to reduce the +expenditure, in order that the deficit might be cleared off. Let Mr +Gladstone do this—let him clear off the serious deficits in his previous +years of office; and then—but not till then—ought he to propound new +reductions of the revenue. But such a businesslike proceeding would not +make a sensation budget; it would not surround the Ministry with that +bright gleam of popularity which is to retrieve their position, and +carry them through another session of barrenness and humiliation. In all +probability Mr Gladstone’s proposal is to ignore the past deficits, and +devote the whole of his prospective surplus to the reduction of +taxation. By a reduction of taxes the country is to be bribed into +forgetfulness of the past, and rendered placable to the appeal for +respite on the part of a falling Ministry. It is not to be expected that +Mr Gladstone will confine his favours to tobacco: he must support his +great remission of duty on this luxury by minor reductions on articles +of more usefulness. While striking four shillings a-pound off tobacco, +he will strike a few pence or farthings off the price of tea and sugar. +In fact, he will probably, in his usual way, give a trifling sop all +round, in order that he may be allowed to carry his great point in the +reduction of the duties on tobacco. The House will do much better to +abolish, or greatly reduce, the duties on hops and beer. Surely it is +intolerable that foreign luxuries, like tobacco and French wines, should +receive the favours of the Legislature, while the produce of our own +soil and industry, constituting a healthy element of the national food, +should be subjected to heavy taxation. This is a matter which affects +urban constituencies as well as the agricultural interest. Put it to the +vote in any town or county in the land, whether they will have five +shillings a-pound struck off the duty on tobacco, or get the fiscal +burdens removed from beer, and there cannot be a doubt that the whole +suffrages would be given in favour of beer, and against tobacco. +Therefore if Mr Gladstone—as is most likely—be resolved once more to +play an _ad captandum_ game, we trust the House of Commons will be on +the alert to see that any possible reductions of taxation are effected +on articles which enter largely into the food of the people, and not +wasted—with what ulterior object, we need not repeat—upon an enormous +remission on the duties on tobacco and cigars. But it still more behoves +the House to see that Mr Gladstone’s previous deficits are cleared off. +Mr Gladstone must put the finances in the condition in which they were +when he took office. We do not presume he will venture to continue his +practice of forestalling the revenue payments; but he has to refund the +two millions which he abstracted from the balances in the Exchequer in +the two years subsequent to March 1860, and he has also to pay off about +half a million sterling which has been added to the National Debt during +his present term of office. Let him do these things first; and then we +will see how much he has to spare for promoting the introduction of +cigars for the million! Let us clear off our past deficits, before, +under the leadership of this financial sophist, we plunge into others +that we know not of. + +The past month has furnished a most singular proof of the want of +sagacity which has characterised the commercial policy of the Whigs +since 1847. On coming into office at that time, their only thought was, +how to rival Sir R. Peel in his highly popular reforms of the tariff. +Unable to equal him in administrative sagacity, they simply travestied +his policy by carrying it to excess. They abolished or reduced +customs-duties, and totally relinquished the Navigation Laws, without a +thought of how the country would fare in its future commercial relations +with other countries. Again and again they were warned that they were +rashly and foolishly relinquishing a valuable vantage-ground without +even attempting to obtain those advantages for our commerce which other +countries would be willing to cede in return. What has been the +consequence? The ‘Magazine’ has so often in former years predicted what +would be the result, that we need not now go over the old ground. +Fortunately the Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs has told the tale of +Ministerial failure so well, that his speech on Feb. 17, in answer to Mr +Fitzgerald, completely substantiates the correctness of our old +predictions. We print it here as furnishing ample matter for reflection +to politicians on both sides of the House:— + + + “When the hon. member for Rochdale went to Paris to negotiate the + French treaty, the first thing he was asked was, What had he to offer? + If he had gone to Paris with his hands empty, it was not probable that + he would have succeeded in obtaining the concessions which the French + Government made to him. Fortunately, however, the hon. gentleman had + much to offer. There were heavy duties on wine and other articles of + French produce and manufactures, and in consideration of a reduction + in those duties the French Government consented to various changes in + their tariff which had proved very beneficial not only to this country + but to France. It was necessary to bear in mind that in our domestic + legislation we differed from France. We at once gave the whole world + the benefit of the concessions which had been made to our ally. + France, on the other hand, withheld from others the privileges she had + conceded to us, and thus retained in her hands the means of bargaining + with other Powers for mutual commercial concessions. When one nation + sought any favour from another nation, there were various grounds on + which the request might be based. An appeal might be made to the + generosity of the other Power, but it was doubtful whether that would + have much effect; or an appeal might be made to a treaty which gave + the applicant the privileges of the most favoured nation, and a claim + advanced for certain privileges which had been granted to another + State. Therefore it was, above all things, desirable that when one had + no concessions to offer in return for the advantages sought, some + other Power, which possessed the means of bargaining, should commence + the negotiations. That was the reason why France had been allowed to + precede us in the present instance, and every concession which was + made to her gave us a right to claim the same. If we had taken the + initiative, the Italian Government would very naturally have said, + ‘You have nothing to give us in exchange for what we give you, and if + we freely concede your demands we shall be placed in a bad position in + making terms with France.’ So far from Her Majesty’s Government not + having endeavoured to make treaties of commerce with other nations, + the fact was that there was scarcely a Power in Europe with whom + negotiations had not been opened during the last year or two. The + Belgian Government were asked to make a treaty of commerce with us, as + they had done with France; and it was pointed out to them that it + would be an unfriendly act, having entered into a treaty with France, + to refuse to negotiate one with England. They replied by asking what + we could give to them in return, and they suggested that if they gave + to us what they had given to France, we [having nothing of our own to + offer them] should consent to capitalise the Scheldt dues. Now, the + capitalisation of the Scheldt dues had nothing whatever to do with a + treaty of commerce, and our Government [_nota bene_, having nothing to + bargain with!] at once refused to admit the principle of purchasing a + treaty. [And yet, in the very year previous, they had “purchased” the + treaty with France!]... The House was aware that last year the French + Government were negotiating a treaty with Prussia and the Zollverein. + As soon as that fact became known, our Government applied to Prussia + and the Zollverein to make with us a similar treaty of commerce. The + reply was precisely the same we received from Belgium—that + negotiations could not be entered into with us until those in progress + with France were concluded. France, it was said in effect, can give us + an equivalent. You can give us none.” + + +During the present month the conflict of parties in the Legislature will +be suspended as far as the business of the country will allow. The +nation and its representatives will have little taste for polemical +discussion during the month that is to witness the joyous event of the +marriage of the heir-apparent to the throne. The country will be in +jubilee, and London will be absorbed in the fêtes and royal ceremonial +attendant upon the nuptials. The good wishes of all flow out to the +young Prince and his Danish bride. The hopes of the nation centre in +him. The hearty greetings of the people await him on this happy +occasion. He has proved himself worthy of the esteem which he so fully +enjoys. Since the days of the Black Prince, no heir to the throne has +given so many happy auguries of his future. Unlike the peerless son of +Edward III., we trust that he will be spared “long to reign over us,” +after the evil hour for us when his royal mother shall exchange her +earthly crown for a better one. Before the royal pageantries and popular +illuminations begin, and the acclamations of the first nation in the +world arise to greet him and his beautiful bride, we tender them our +sympathies, our congratulations, and our best wishes for their +happiness. The union promises to be a happy one for the royal pair. It +is a present happiness, and we trust it will be a lasting comfort, to +our beloved Queen. It is the first gleam of returning sunshine to her +heart after the darkness of sorrow and bereavement which so suddenly +settled down upon her fifteen months ago. We know no drawback upon the +general joy. Even in a political point of view this alliance is +fortunate, and desirable above any other that could be formed. The +country is thrice happy to know that this is a union of hearts as well +as of hands, and that the bride-elect possesses in an eminent degree +those advantages of person, charms of manner, and piety and amiability +of character, which captivate affection and secure domestic happiness. +While as a good princess and queen she will win our hearts, it is an +additional pleasure to feel that, as a Scandinavian Princess, she will +rivet an old and national alliance, and draw into closer bonds the +kindred races of the North. + +Though there will be a temporary truce, we fear the conduct of the +Government, whether as represented by Mr Gladstone or by Lord Russell, +will not be such as the Conservative Opposition can approve. Even apart +from its acts, the position of the Ministry is so unnatural, and its +reputation so tarnished and discredited, that it cannot possibly hope +for a much longer respite. Every week its position is becoming more +untenable. In vain do its friends endeavour to frame apologies for its +defeats and pleas for its existence. In vain does the leading journal at +one time claim as a merit for the Premier that he has “no principles;” +in vain does it, at another, seek to intimidate electors by declaring +that “unprincipled constituencies make unscrupulous Governments.” We +should have thought that “unprincipled constituencies” were the very +ones to support a Premier with no “principles.” However, as the +subsequent election at Totnes showed, the threat was no idle word: and +Government influence and the most tyrannical pressure were employed to +coerce the free action of that constituency. But this course also has +failed. At Totnes the Government simply escaped defeat: Liberals were +returned as Liberals had been before. But at Devonport, another pocket +borough of the Ministry, the Government was defeated, and for the first +time for several elections a Conservative headed the poll. Ministerial +tyranny had been carried too far. It succeeded in the first instance, +but would not be brooked in the second. The “unscrupulous Government” +has received a check in the corrupt exercise of its powers which it can +never forget. It was at once a triumph for Conservatism and for the +principle of freedom of election. We do not wonder that Mr Ferrand, when +he took his seat in the House, should be received with hearty +acclamations from the Conservatives, who crowded the Opposition benches +to do him honour. The Conservative party is now stronger by eleven +votes—counting twenty-two on a division—since June 1859, when the united +Whigs and Radicals succeeded in overthrowing Lord Derby’s Government by +a majority of only thirteen. + +It is amusing to see the subterfuges by which the Whigs seek to conceal +their discomfiture. Feeling themselves going downhill very fast, +disintegrating, expiring, they cry out that “there are no parties +nowadays.” Some of them even go the length of saying that there are “no +principles;” the correctness of which statement we shall not dispute as +regards themselves. They should know best; and, indeed, as all their old +principles are dead and gone, dismissed into the limbo of vanities, we +do not see how they can have any left. It is certainly suspicious that +the Whigs should have innocently discovered that the age of party is +past, at the very time that the Tory party has regained its old +ascendancy in the Legislature. Plain people will not be at a loss to +assign a reason. The Whigs as a party are extinct, and, like +Chesterfield and Tyrawley, “they don’t wish it to be known.” The only +thing that can keep the Whigs alive in the imagination of the public, is +to show that party is dead. Happily the country has only to look at the +Opposition side of the House to see that the Tory party is alive, and +exuberant in strength and hope. It is fortunate for the interests of the +State that they are so. The main attack upon the bulwarks of the +Constitution has been decisively repulsed—the legions of “Reform” have +been scattered in such hopeless rout that their leaders have thrown away +their standards and disavow their cause. But the fight still goes on +against another front of the Constitution, which, until lately, was but +ill defended. This combat, so interesting and important, is itself a +test of party; and seldom have the organisation and discipline of party +been more strikingly displayed than in this keen warfare. Party dead! +No, truly. “An opinion has been industriously promulgated of late,” +justly observes a contemporary,[12] “that party distinctions have ceased +in public life, and that there are no contested principles between the +two great political connections of the State. Yet simultaneous with the +propagation of this doctrine has been the most systematic and successful +assault in Parliament upon the Church of England that it has encountered +since 1640.” Repulsed from the political front of the Constitution, the +waves of combat still dash furiously against our religious institutions. +It is time that the Conservatives should overthrow the enemies of the +Constitution in this quarter also by a decisive victory. It will be +their crowning triumph. In truth there is no other beyond it. When they +have terminated this combat, the Conservative triumph is complete in the +Legislature, as it already is in the country. The Church is part and +parcel of the British Constitution; and very heartily do we approve of +our ecclesiastical contemporary’s exhortations to Churchmen to look +after their special interests. The Church is a party question, like any +other; and in the intense competition of a constitutional country, the +Church must organise its press, like the other institutions of the land. + +There is a good time coming sure enough, and the cause of its coming is +easily understood. The Conservative party are superior alike in +sincerity and in statesmanlike ability to the party which has so long +prided itself in the advocacy of organic changes. Moreover, they +represent the normal feeling of Englishmen. Conservatism is the +distinguishing feature of the British character. The public of this +country has no love for those theoretic ideals of government, those +paper-constitutions, which have so often fascinated and brought misery +upon other nations. The reign of Innovation is ever short-lived with us; +and the supremacy of the party who represent that principle must be +equally transitory. The Whig party, who became champions of innovation +in order to regain the power which they had lost, now find that their +old vantage-ground has slipped from under them. They have had their day +as rough-hewers of the Constitution, and now give place again to the +more masterly artists who know how to chisel the marble while preserving +the lineaments of the noble design. This natural decline of the Reform +party has been rendered more inevitable by the very efforts they have +made to maintain themselves in power. Everything portends the speedy +ascendancy of the Conservative party in Parliament; and the leaders of +the party are the very men to lend to such a cause the lustre of +personal renown. Derby, Malmesbury, Disraeli, Bulwer Lytton, Pakington, +Walpole, Stanley, Cairns, Whiteside, are names of which any party and +any cause might be proud. They have the advantage of years, too, on +their side; for, compared with their rivals, they are all in the vigour +of life, and in the prime of states-manhood. The tide of public opinion +has long been rising in their favour, and they have not long to wait. +They are strong, and therefore are calm; they are patriotic, and will +not imitate the factious tactics of their rivals. But their final +success is at hand; and their triumph will be all the more glorious, +inasmuch as it promises to partake less of the character of a +party-victory, than of an ovation offered to them by the whole +enlightened classes of the community. + + + _Printed by William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh._ + +----- + +Footnote 1: + + ‘La Vie de Village en Angleterre; ou, Souvenirs d’un Exile.’ Paris: + Didier. 1862. + +Footnote 2: + + ‘Vie Moderne en Angleterre.’ Par Hector Malot. + +Footnote 3: + + ‘Studies in Roman Law; with Comparative Views of the Laws of France, + England, and Scotland.’ By Lord Mackenzie, one of the Judges of the + Court of Session in Scotland. W. Blackwood & Sons. 1862. + +Footnote 4: + + I should add that, since writing the above, one day my eye was + attracted by the unusual number of people (there were nine) reading + one of the royal decrees just promulgated and placarded on the wall: + it concerned the uniform of subordinate officials. + +Footnote 5: + + The ‘Chiacchiera’ of 3d January. + +Footnote 6: + + ‘Relations Politiques de la France et de l’Espagne avec l’Ecosse au + xvi^e Siècle—Papiers d’état, Pièces, et Documents inedits ou peu + connus, tirés des Bibliothêques et des Archives de France. Publiés par + Alexandre Teulet, Archiviste aux Archives de l’Empire.’ Nouvelle + edition, 5 vols. Paris: Renouard. Edinburgh: Williams & Norgate. + + ‘Les Ecossais en France—Les Français en Ecosse.’ Par Francisque + Michel, Correspondant de l’Institut de France, &c. &c. 2 vols. London: + Trübner & Co. + +Footnote 7: + + See the cessation of church-building in Scotland brought out in a + well-known article in the ‘Quarterly Review’ for July 1849, on the + Churches and Abbeys of Scotland, understood to be from the pen of Mr + Joseph Robertson. + +Footnote 8: + + See the article on ‘Baronial and Ecclesiastical Antiquities of + Scotland,’ in the Magazine for August 1850. + +Footnote 9: + + Article, ‘The French on Queen Mary,’ Magazine for November 1859. + +Footnote 10: + + ‘The Invasion of the Crimea: Its Origin, and an Account of its + Progress down to the Death of Lord Raglan.’ By Alexander William + Kinglake. 2d Edition. William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh and + London. + +Footnote 11: + + The ‘Daily News.’ + +Footnote 12: + + ‘Church and State Review,’ art. ‘Practical Politics.’ + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + Page Changed from Changed to + + 279 were not long absent. Whey they were not long absent. When they + + 320 a _cause celèbre_ now depending. a _cause célèbre_ now depending. + We We + + 372 the _coup d’êtat_. The claims of the _coup d’état_. The claims of + St St + + ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last + chapter. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● The caret (^) serves as a superscript indicator, applicable to + individual characters (like 2^d). + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75167 *** diff --git a/75167-h/75167-h.htm b/75167-h/75167-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bde25ad --- /dev/null +++ b/75167-h/75167-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15393 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Blackwood 569 - 1863.03 | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } + h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; } + h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; } + h3 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: large; } + h4 { text-align: center; 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font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } + .ph1 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; + margin: .67em auto; page-break-before: always; } + .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; + page-break-before: always; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75167 ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='titlepage'> + +<div> + <h1 class='c001'>BLACKWOOD’S<br> EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.<br> <span class='xlarge'><span class='sc'>No. DLXIX.      MARCH 1863.      Vol. XCIII.</span></span></h1> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c002'>CONTENTS.</h2> +</div> + +<table class='table0'> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Caxtoniana.—Part XIV.,</span></td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_267'>267</a></td> + </tr> + <tr><td class='c005' colspan='2'><span class='sc'>No. XIX.—Motive Power</span> (<em>concluded</em>)</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Mrs Clifford’s Marriage.—Part I.</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_284'>284</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>An English Village—in French</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_301'>301</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Lord Mackenzie’s Roman Law</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_314'>314</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Peripatetic Politician—in Florence</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_321'>321</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Frank in Scotland</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_330'>330</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Kinglake’s Invasion of the Crimea</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_355'>355</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Opening of the Session</span>,</td> + <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_384'>384</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div>EDINBURGH:</div> + <div>WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS, 45 GEORGE STREET.</div> + <div>AND 37 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.</div> + <div class='c007'><span class='small'><em>To whom all Communications (post paid) must be addressed.</em></span></div> + <div class='c007'><span class='small'>SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.</span></div> + <div class='c007'>PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span></div> +<div class='chapter ph1'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c008'> + <div>BLACKWOOD’S</div> + <div>EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.</div> + <div class='c007'><span class='xlarge'><span class='sc'>No. DLXIX.      MARCH 1863.      Vol. XCIII</span></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div> + <h2 class='c002'>CAXTONIANA:<br> <span class='c009'>A SERIES OF ESSAYS ON LIFE, LITERATURE, AND MANNERS.</span></h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div>By the Author of ‘The Caxton Family.’</div> + </div> +</div> + +<h3 class='c010'>PART XIV.</h3> +<h4 class='c010'><span class='fss'>NO. XIX.—MOTIVE POWER</span> (<em>concluded</em>).</h4> + +<p class='c011'>The next day the atmosphere was +much cooler, refreshed by a heavy +shower that had fallen at dawn; +and when, not long after noon, Percival +and I, mounted on ponies +bred in the neighbouring forests, +were riding through the narrow +lanes towards the house we had +agreed to visit, we did not feel the +heat oppressive. It was a long excursion; +we rode slowly, and the +distance was about sixteen miles.</p> + +<p class='c012'>We arrived at last at a little +hamlet remote from the highroads. +The cottages, though old-fashioned, +were singularly neat and trim—flower-plots +before them, and small +gardens for kitchen use behind. A +very ancient church, with its parsonage, +backed the broad village-green; +and opposite the green stood +one of those small quaint manor-houses +which satisfied the pride of +our squires two hundred years ago. +On a wide garden-lawn in front +were old yew-trees cut into fantastic +figures of pyramids and obelisks +and birds and animals; beyond +the lawn, on a levelled platform +immediately before the house, was +a small garden, with a sundial, and +a summer-house or pavilion of the +date of William III., when buildings +of that kind, for a short time, +became the fashionable appendage +to country-houses, frequently decorated +inside with musical trophies, +as if built for a music-room; +but, I suspect, more generally devoted +to wine and pipes by the host +and his male friends. At the rear +of the house stretched an ample +range of farm-buildings in very +good repair and order, the whole +situated on the side of a hill, sufficiently +high to command an extensive +prospect, bounded at the farthest +distance by the sea, yet not +so high as to lose the screen of hills, +crested by young plantations of fir +and larch; while their midmost +slopes were, in part, still abandoned +to sheep-walks; in part, +brought (evidently of late) into cultivation; +and farther down, amid the +richer pastures that dipped into the +valley, goodly herds of cattle indolently +grazed or drowsily reposed.</p> + +<p class='c012'>We dismounted at the white +garden-gate. A man ran out from +the farmyard and took our ponies; +evidently a familiar acquaintance of +Tracey’s, for he said heartily, “that +he was glad to see his honour looking +so well,” and volunteered a +promise that the ponies should be +well rubbed down, and fed. “Master +was at home; we should find +him in the orchard swinging Miss +Lucy.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>So, instead of entering the house, +Tracey, who knew all its ways, +took me round to the other side, +and we came into one of those +venerable orchards which carry the +thought back to the early day when +the orchard was, in truth, the +garden.</p> + +<p class='c012'>A child’s musical laugh guided +us through the lines of heavy-laden +apple-trees to the spot where the +once famous prizeman—the once +brilliant political thinker—was now +content to gratify the instinctive +desire <i><span lang="la">tentare aërias vias</span></i>—in the +pastime of an infant.</p> + +<p class='c012'>He was so absorbed in his occupation +that he did not hear or +observe us till we were close at his +side. Then, after carefully arresting +the swing, and tenderly taking +out the little girl, he shook hands +with Percival; and when the ceremony +of mutual introduction was +briefly concluded, extended the +same courtesy to myself.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Gray was a man in the full force +of middle life, with a complexion +that seemed to have been originally +fair and delicate, but had become +bronzed and hardened by habitual +exposure to morning breezes and +noonday suns. He had a clear +bright blue eye, and a countenance +that only failed of being handsome +by that length and straightness of +line between nostril and upper lip, +which is said by physiognomists to +be significant of firmness and decision. +The whole expression of his +face, though frank and manly, was, +however, rather sweet than harsh; +and he had one of those rare voices +which almost in themselves secure +success to a public speaker—distinct +and clear, even in its lowest +tone, as a silvery bell.</p> + +<p class='c012'>I think much of a man’s nature +is shown by the way in which he +shakes hands. I doubt if any +worldly student of Chesterfieldian +manners can ever acquire the art of +that everyday salutation, if it be +not inborn in the kindness, loyalty, +and warmth of his native disposition. +I have known many a great +man who lays himself out to be +popular, who can school his smile +to fascinating sweetness, his voice +to persuasive melody, but who +chills or steels your heart against +him the moment he shakes hands +with you.</p> + +<p class='c012'>But there is a cordial clasp which +shows warmth of impulse, unhesitating +truth, and even power of +character—a clasp which recalls the +classic trust in the “faith of the +right hand.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>And the clasp of Hastings Gray’s +hand at once propitiated me in his +favour. While he and I exchanged +the few words with which acquaintance +commences, Percival had replaced +Miss Lucy in the swing, and +had taken the father’s post. Lucy, +before disappointed at the cessation +of her amusement, felt now that she +was receiving a compliment, which +she must not abuse too far; so she +very soon, of her own accord, unselfishly +asked to be let down, and +we all walked back towards the +house.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“You will dine with us, I hope,” +said Gray. “I know when you +come at this hour, Sir Percival, that +you always meditate giving us that +pleasure.” (Turning to me,) “It is +now half-past three, we dine at four +o’clock, and that early hour gives +you time to rest, and ride back in +the cool of the evening.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“My dear Gray,” answered Percival, +“I accept your invitation for +myself and my friend. I foresaw +you would ask us, and left word at +home that we were not to be waited +for. Where is Mrs Gray?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I suspect that she is about some +of those household matters which +interest a farmer’s wife. Lucy, run +and tell your mamma that these +gentlemen will dine with us.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Lucy scampered off.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“The fact is,” said Tracey, “that +we have a problem to submit to +you. You know how frequently I +come to you for a hint when something +puzzles me. But we can defer +that knotty subject till we adjourn, +as usual, to wine and fruit in your +summer-house. Your eldest boy +is at home for the holidays?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Not at home, though it is his +holidays. He is now fifteen, and +he and a school friend of his are +travelling on foot into Cornwall. +Nothing, I think, fits boys better +for life than those hardy excursions +in which they must depend on +themselves, shift for themselves, +think for themselves.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I daresay you are right,” said +Tracey; “the earlier each of us +human beings forms himself into an +individual God’s creature, distinct +from the <i><span lang="la">servum pecus</span></i>, the better +chance he has of acquiring originality +of mind and dignity of character. +And your other children?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, my two younger boys I +teach at home, and one little girl—I +play with.” Here addressing me, +Gray asked “If I farmed?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Yes,” said I, “but very much +as <i><span lang="fr">les Rois Fainéants</span></i> reigned. My +bailiff is my <i><span lang="fr">Maire du Palais</span></i>. I +hope, therefore, that our friend Sir +Percival will not wound my feelings +as a lover of Nature by accusing +me of wooing her for the sake +of her turnips.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Ah!” said Gray, smiling, “Sir +Percival, I know, holds to the doctrine +that the only pure love of +Nature is the æsthetic; and looks +upon the intimate connection which +the husbandman forms with her +as a cold-blooded <i><span lang="fr">mariage de convenance</span></i>.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I confess,” answered Percival, +“that I agree with the great German +philosopher, that the love of +Nature is pure in proportion as the +delight in her companionship is +unmixed with any idea of the gain +she can give us. But a pure love +may be a very sterile affection; and +a <i><span lang="fr">mariage de convenance</span></i> may be +prolific in very fine offspring. I +concede to you, therefore, that the +world is bettered by the practical +uses to which Nature has been put +by those who wooed her for the +sake of her dower: and I no more +commend to the imitation of others +my abstract æsthetic affection for +her abstract æsthetic beauty, than +I would commend Petrarch’s poetical +passion for Laura to the general +adoption of lovers. I give you, +then, gentlemen farmers, full permission +to woo Nature for the sake +of her turnips. Our mutton is all +the better for it.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“And that is no small consideration,” +said Gray. “If I had gazed +on my sheep-walks with the divine +æsthetic eye, and without one forethought +of the profit they might +bring me, I should not already +have converted 200 out of the 1000 +acres I possess into land that would +let at 30s. per acre, where formerly +it let at 5s. But, with all submission +to the great German philosopher, I +don’t think I love Nature the less +because of the benefits with which +she repays the pains I have taken +to conciliate her favour. If, thanks +to her, I can give a better education +to my boys, and secure a +modest provision for my girl, is it +the property of gratitude to destroy +or to increase affection? But you +see, sir, there is this difference between +Sir Percival and myself:—He +has had no motive in improving +Nature for her positive uses, and +therefore he has been contented +with giving her a prettier robe. +He loves her as a <i><span lang="fr">grand seigneur</span></i> +loves his mistress. I love her as a +man loves the helpmate who assists +his toils. According as in rural +life my mind could find not repose, +but occupation—according as that +occupation was compatible with +such prudent regard to fortune as a +man owes to the children he brings +into the world—my choice of life +would be a right or a wrong one. +In short, I find in the cultivation +of Nature my business as well as +my pleasure. I have a motive for +the business which does not diminish +my taste for the pleasure.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Tracey and I exchanged looks. +So, then, here was a motive for +activity. But why was the motive +towards activity in pursuits requiring +so little of the intellect for +which Gray had been characterised, +and so little of the knowledge +which his youth had acquired, so +much stronger than the motive towards +a career which proffered an +incalculably larger scope for his +powers? Here, there was no want +of energy—here, there had been no +philosophical disdain of ambition—here, +no great wealth leaving no +stimulant to desires—no niggard +poverty paralysing the sinews of +hope. The choice of retirement +had been made in the full vigour of +a life trained from boyhood to the +exercises that discipline the wrestlers +for renown.</p> + +<p class='c012'>While I was thus musing, Gray +led the way towards the farmyard, +and on reaching it said to +me,—</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Since you do farm, if only by +deputy, I must show you the sheep +with which I hope to win the first +prize at our agricultural show in +September.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“So you still care for prizes?” +said I: “the love of fame is not +dead within your breast.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Certainly not; ‘Pride attends +us still.’ I am very proud of the +prizes I have already won; last +year for my wurzel—the year before, +for the cow I bred on my own +pastures.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>We crossed the farmyard, and +arrived at the covered sheep-pens. +I thought I had never seen finer +sheep than those which Gray +showed me with visible triumph. +Then we two conversed with much +animation upon the pros and cons +in favour of stall-feeding <em>versus</em> free +grazing, while Tracey amused himself, +first in trying to conciliate a +great dog, luckily for him chained +up in the adjoining yard, and next, +in favouring the escape of a mouse +who had incautiously quitted the +barn, and ventured within reach of +a motherly hen, who seemed to regard +it as a monster intent on her +chicks.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Reaching the house, Gray conducted +us up a flight of oak stairs—picturesque +in its homely old-fashioned +way—with wide landing-place, +adorned by a blue china jar, +filled with <em>pot-pourri</em>, and by a +tall clock (one of Tompion’s, now +rare), in walnut-wood case; consigning +us each to a separate chamber, +to refresh ourselves by those +simple ablutions, with which, even +in rustic retirements, civilised Englishmen +preface the hospitable +rites of Ceres and Bacchus.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The room in which I found myself +was one of those never seen +out of England, and only there in +unpretending country-houses which +have escaped the innovating tastes +of fashion. A bedstead of the time +of George I., with mahogany fluted +columns and panels at the bedhead, +dark and polished, decorated +by huge watch-pockets of some +great-grandmother’s embroidery, +white spotless curtains, the walls +in panel, also painted white, and +covered in part with framed engravings +a century old. A large +high screen, separating the washstand +from the rest of the room, +made lively by old caricatures and +prints, doubtless the handiwork of +female hands long stilled. A sweet, +not strong, odour of dried lavender +escaped from a chest of drawers, +polished as bright as the bedstead. +The small lattice-paned window +opened to the fresh air; the woodbine +framing it all round from +without; amongst the woodbine +the low hum of bees. A room for +early sleep and cheerful rising with +the eastern sun, which the window +faced.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Tracey came into my room while +I was still looking out of the casement, +gazing on the little gardenplot +without, bright with stocks +and pinks and heartsease, and said, +“Well, you see £600 a-year can +suffice to arrest a clever man’s ambition.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I suspect,” answered I, “that +the ambition is not arrested but +turned aside to the object of doubling +the £600 a-year. Neither ambition +nor the desire of gain is dead +in that farmyard.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“We shall cross-question our +host after dinner,” answered Tracey; +“meanwhile let me conduct you to +the dining-room. A pretty place +this, in its way, is it not?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Very,” said I, with enthusiasm. +“Could you not live as happily +here as in your own brilliant villa?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“No, not quite, but still happily.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Why not quite?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“First, because there is nothing +within or without the house which +one could attempt to improve, unless +by destroying the whole character +of what is so good in its way; +secondly, where could I put my +Claudes and Turners? where my +statues? where, oh where, my books? +where, in short, the furniture of +Man’s mind?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>I made no answer, for the dinner-bell +rang loud, and we went down +at once into the dining-room—a +quaint room, scarcely touched since +the date of William III. A high +and heavy dado of dark oak, the +rest of the walls in Dutch stamped +leather, still bright and fresh; a +high mantelpiece, also of oak, with +a very indifferent picture of still +life let into the upper panel; arched +recesses on either side, receptacles +for china and tall drinking-glasses; +heavy chairs, with crests inlaid on +their ponderous backs, and faded +needlework on their ample seats;—all, +however, speaking of comfort +and home, and solid though unassuming +prosperity. Gray had +changed his rude morning dress, +and introduced me to his wife with +an evident husbandlike pride. Mrs +Gray was still very pretty; in her +youth she must have been prettier +even than Clara Thornhill, and +though very plainly dressed, still it +was the dress of a gentlewoman. +There was intelligence, but soft +timid intelligence, in her dark hazel +eyes and broad candid forehead. +I soon saw, however, that she was +painfully shy, and not at all willing +to take her share in the expense of +conversation. But with Tracey she +was more at her ease than with a +stranger, and I thanked him inwardly +for coming to my relief, as +I was vainly endeavouring to extract +from her lips more than a +murmured monosyllable.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The dinner, however, passed off +very pleasantly. Simple old English +fare—plenty of it—excellent of +its kind. Tracey was the chief +talker, and made himself so entertaining, +that at last even Mrs Gray’s +shyness wore away, and I discovered +that she had a well-informed graceful +mind, constitutionally cheerful, +as was evidenced by the blithe +music of her low but happy laugh.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The dinner over, we adjourned, +as Percival had proposed, to the +summer-house. There we found +the table spread with fruits and +wine, of which last the port was +superb; no better could be dragged +from the bins of a college, or blush +on the board of a prelate. Mrs +Gray, however, deserted us, but we +now and then caught sight of her +in the garden without, playing gaily +with her children—two fine little +boys, and Lucy, who seemed to +have her own way with them all, as +she ought—the youngest child, the +only girl—justifiably papa’s pet, for +she was the one most like her +mother.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Gray,” said Tracey, “my friend +and I have had some philosophical +disputes, which we cannot decide +to our own satisfaction, on the +reasons why some men do so much +more in life than other men, without +having any apparent intellectual +advantage over those who are contented +to be obscure. We have +both hit on a clue to the cause, in +what we call motive power. But +what this motive power really is, +and why it should fail in some men +and be so strong in others, is matter +of perplexity, at least to me, and I +fancy my friend himself is not much +more enlightened therein than I am. +So we have both come here to hear +what you have to say—you, who +certainly had motive enough for +ambitious purposes when you swept +away so many academical prizes—when +you rushed into speech and +into print, and cast your bold eye +on St Stephen’s. And now, what +has become of that motive power? +Is it all put into prizes for root-crops +and sheep?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“As to myself,” answered Gray, +passing the wine, “I can give very +clear explanations. I am of a gentleman’s +family, but the son of a +very poor curate. Luckily for me, +we lived close by an excellent grammar-school, +at which I obtained a +free admission. From the first day +I entered, I knew that my poor +father, bent on making me a scholar, +counted on my exertions not +only for my own livelihood, but for +a provision for my mother should +she survive him. Here was motive +enough to supply motive power. +I succeeded in competition with +rivals at school, and success added +to the strength of the motive power. +Our county member, on whose estate +I was born, took a kindly interest in +me, and gave me leave, when I quitted +school, as head boy, to come daily +to his house and share the studies +of his son, who was being prepared +for the university by a private tutor, +eminent as a scholar and admirable +as a teacher. Thus I went +up to college not only full of hope +(in itself a motive power, though, +of itself, an unsafe one), but of a +hope so sustained that it became +resolution, by the knowledge that +to maintain me at the university +my parents were almost literally +starving themselves. This suffices +to explain whatever energy and application +I devoted to my academical +career. At last I obtained my +fellowship; the income of that I +shared with my parents; but if I +died before them the income would +die also—a fresh motive power towards +a struggle for fortune in the +Great World. I took up politics, +I confess it very frankly, as a profession +rather than a creed; it was +the shortest road to fame, and, +with prudence, perhaps to pecuniary +competence. If I succeeded in +Parliament I might obtain a living +for my father, or some public situation +for myself not dependent on +the fluctuations of party. A very +high political ambition was denied +me by the penury of circumstance. +A man must have good means of +his own who aspires to rank among +party chiefs. I knew I was but a +political adventurer, that I could +only be so considered; and had it +not been for my private motive +power, I should have been ashamed +of my public one. As it was, my +scholarly pride was secretly chafed +at the thought that I was carrying +into the affairs of state the greed of +trade. Suddenly, most unexpectedly, +this estate was bequeathed to +me. You large proprietors will smile +when I say that we had always regarded +the Grays of Oakden Hall +with venerating pride; they were +the head of our branch of the clan. +My father had seen this place in +his boyhood; the remembrance of +it dwelt on his mind as the unequivocal +witness of his dignity as a +gentleman born. He came from +the same stock as the Grays of +Oakden, who had lived on the land +for more than three centuries, entitled +to call themselves squires. +The relationship was very distant, +still it existed. But a dream that +so great a place as Oakden Hall, +with its 1000 acres, should ever +pass to his son—no, my father +thought it much more likely that +his son might be prime minister! +John Gray of Oakden had never +taken the least notice of us, except +that, when I won the Pitt scholarship, +he sent me a fine turkey, labelled +‘From John Gray, Esq. of +Oakden.’ This present I acknowledged, +but John Gray never answered +my letter. Just at that time, +however, as appears by the date, he +re-made his will, and placed me as +remainder-man in case of the deaths, +without issue, of two nearer relations, +both nephews. These young +men died unmarried—the one of +rheumatic fever, a few months before +old Gray’s decease; the other, +two weeks after it; poor fellow, he +was thrown from his horse and +killed on the spot. So, unexpectedly, +I came into this property. +Soon afterwards I married. The +possession of land is a great tranquilliser +to a restless spirit, and a +happy marriage is as sedative as +potent. Poverty is a spur to action. +Great wealth, on the other hand, +not unnaturally tends to the desire +of display, and in free countries +often to the rivalry for political +power. The golden mean is proverbially +the condition most favourable +to content, and content is the +antidote to ambition. Mine was the +golden mean! Other influences +of pride and affection contributed +to keep me still. Of pride; for +was I not really a greater man here, +upon my ancestral acres and my +few yearly hundreds, than as a political +aspirant, who must commence +his career by being a political dependant? +How rich I felt here! how +poor I should be in London! How +inevitably, in the daily expenses of +a metropolitan life, and in the costs +of elections (should I rise beyond +being a mere nominee), I must become +needy and involved! So much +for the influence of pride. Now +for the influence of affection; my +dear wife had never been out of +these rural shades among which +she was born. She is of a nature +singularly timid, sensitive, and retiring. +The idea of that society to +which a political career would have +led me terrified her. I loved her +the better for desiring no companionship +but mine. In fine, my +desires halted at once on these +turfs; the Attraction of the Earth, +of which I had a share, prevailed; +the motive power stopped here.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“You have never regretted your +choice?” said Tracey.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Certainly not; I congratulate +myself on it more and more every +year. For, after all, here I have +ample occupation and a creditable +career. I have improved my fortune, +instead of wasting it. I have +a fixed, acknowledged, instead of +an unsettled, equivocal position. I +am an authority on many rural subjects +of interest besides those of +husbandry. I am an active magistrate; +and, as I know a little of +the law, I am the habitual arbiter +upon all the disputes in the neighbourhood. +I employ here with satisfaction, +and not without some +dignity, the energies which, in the +great world, would have bought any +reputation I might have gained at +the price of habitual pain and frequent +mortification.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Then,” said I, “you do not +think that a saying of Dr Arnold’s, +which I quoted to Tracey as no +less applicable to men than to boys, +is altogether a true one—viz., that +the difference between boys, as regards +the power of acquiring distinction, +is not so much in talent as +in energy; you retain the energies +that once raised you to public distinction, +but you no longer apply +them to the same object.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I believe that Dr Arnold, if he +be quoted correctly, spoke only half +the truth. One difference between +boy and boy or man and man, no +doubt, is energy; but for great +achievements or fame there must +be also application—viz., every energy +concentred on one definite +point, and disciplined to strain towards +it by patient habit. My +energy, such as it is, would not +have brought my sheep-walks into +profitable cultivation if the energy +had not been accompanied with devoted +application to the business. +And it is astonishing how, when +the energy is constantly applied towards +one settled aim—astonishing, +I say—how invention is kindled out +of it. Thus, in many a quiet solitary +morning’s walk round my farm, +some new idea, some hint of improvement +or contrivance, occurs to +me; this I ponder and meditate +upon till it takes the shape of experiment. +I presume that it is so +with poet, artist, orator, or statesman. +His mind is habituated to +apply itself to definite subjects of +observation and reflection, and out +of this habitual musing thereon, involuntarily +spring the happy originalities +of thinking which are called +his ‘inspirations.’”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“One word more,” said I. +“Do you consider, then, that which +makes a man devote himself to +fame or ambition is a motive power +of which he himself is conscious?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“No; not always. I imagine +that most men entering on some +career are originally impelled towards +it by a motive which, at the +time, they seldom take the trouble +to analyse or even to detect. They +would at once see what that motive +was if early in the career it was +withdrawn. In a majority of cases +it is the <i><span lang="la">res angusta</span></i>, yet not poverty +in itself, but a poverty disproportioned +to the birth, or station, or +tastes, or intellectual culture of the +aspirant. Thus, the peasant or operative +rarely feels in his poverty a +motive power towards distinction +out of his craft; but the younger +son of a gentleman does feel that +motive power. And hence a very +large proportion of those who in +various ways have gained fame, +have been the cadets of a gentleman’s +family, or the sons of poor +clergymen, sometimes of farmers +and tradesmen, who have given +them an education beyond the average +of their class. Other motive +powers towards fame have been +sometimes in ambition, sometimes +in love; sometimes in a great sorrow, +from which a strong mind +sought to wrest itself; sometimes +even in things that would appear +frivolous to a philosopher. I knew +a young man, of no great talents, +but of keen vanity and great resolution +and force of character, who, +as a child, had been impressed with +envy of the red ribbon which his +uncle wore as Knight of the Bath. +From his infancy he determined +some day or other to win a red +ribbon for himself. He did so at +last, and in trying to do so became +famous.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“In great commercial communities +a distinction is given to successful +trade, so that the motive +power of youthful talent nourished +in such societies is mostly concentred +on gain, not through avarice, +but through the love of approbation +or esteem. Thus, it is noticeable +that our great manufacturing +towns, where energy and application +abound, have not contributed +their proportionate quota of men +distinguished in arts or sciences +(except the mechanical), or polite +letters, or the learned professions. +In rural districts, on the contrary, +the desire of gain is not associated +with the desire of honour and distinction, +and therefore, in them, the +youth early coveting fame strives +for it in other channels than those +of gain. But whatever the original +motive power, if it has led to a +continuous habit of the mind, and +is not withdrawn before that habit +becomes a second nature, the habit +will continue after the motive power +has either wholly ceased or become +very faint, as the famous scribbling +Spanish cardinal is said, in popular +legends, to have continued to write +on after he himself was dead. Thus, +a man who has acquired the obstinate +habit of labouring for the public +originally from an enthusiastic +estimate of the value of public applause, +may, later, conceive a great +contempt for the public, and, in +sincere cynicism, become wholly indifferent +to its praise or its censure, +and yet, like Swift, go on as +long as the brain can retain faithful +impressions and perform its normal +functions, writing for the public +he so disdains. Thus many a +statesman, wearied and worn, satisfied +of the hollowness of political +ambition, and no longer enjoying +its rewards, sighing for retirement +and repose, nevertheless continues +to wear his harness. Habit has +tyrannised over all his actions; +break the habit, and the thread of +his life snaps with it!</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Lastly, however, I am by no +means sure that there is not in +some few natures an inborn irresistible +activity, a constitutional +attraction between the one mind +and the human species, which requires +no special, separate motive +power from without to set it into +those movements which, perforce, +lead to fame. I mean those men +to whom we at once accord the +faculty which escapes all satisfactory +metaphysical definition—<span class='sc'>Ingenium</span>;—viz., +the inborn spirit which +we call genius.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“And in <em>these</em> natures, whatever +the motive power that in the first +instance urged them on, if at any +stage, however early, that motive +power be withdrawn, some other +one will speedily replace it. Through +them Providence mysteriously acts +on the whole world, and their genius +while on earth is one of Its +most visible ministrants. But genius +is the exceptional phenomenon +in human nature; and in examining +the ordinary laws that influence +human minds we have no measurement +and no scales for portents.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“There is, however,” said Tracey, +“one motive power towards careers +of public utility which you have +not mentioned, but the thought of +which often haunts me in rebuke +of my own inertness,—I mean, +quite apart from any object of vanity +or ambition, the sense of our +own duty to mankind; and hence +the devotion to public uses of whatever +talents have been given to us—not +to hide under a bushel.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I do not think,” answered Gray, +“that when a man feels he is doing +good in his own way he need reproach +himself that he is not doing +good in some other way to which +he is not urged by special duty, and +from which he is repelled by constitutional +temperament. I do not, +for instance, see that because you +have a very large fortune you are +morally obliged to keep correspondent +establishments, and adopt a +mode of life hostile to your tastes; +you sufficiently discharge the duties +of wealth if the fair proportion of +your income go to objects of well-considered +benevolence and purposes +not unproductive to the community. +Nor can I think that I, +who possess but a very moderate +fortune, am morally called upon to +strive for its increase in the many +good speculations which life in a +capital may offer to an eager mind, +provided always that I do nevertheless +remember that I have children, +to whose future provision and +wellbeing some modest augmentations +of my fortune would be desirable. +In improving my land for +their benefit, I may say also that I +add, however trivially, to the wealth +of the country. Let me hope that +the trite saying is true, that ‘he +who makes two blades of corn grow +where one grew before,’ is a benefactor +to his race. So with mental +wealth: surely it is permitted to us +to invest and expend it within that +sphere most suited to those idiosyncrasies, +the adherence to which +constitutes our moral health. I do +not, with the philosopher, condemn +the man who, irresistibly impelled +towards the pursuit of honours and +power, persuades himself that he is +toiling for the public good when he +is but gratifying his personal ambition;—probably +he is a better +man thus acting in conformity with +his own nature, than he would be +if placed beyond all temptation in +Plato’s cave. Nor, on the other +hand, can I think that a man of the +highest faculties and the largest +attainments, who has arrived at a +sincere disdain of power or honours, +would be a better man if he were +tyrannically forced to pursue the +objects from which his temperament +recoils, upon the plea that +he was thus promoting the public +welfare. No doubt, in every city, +town, street, and lane, there are +bustling, officious, restless persons, +who thrust themselves into public +concerns, with a loud declaration +that they are animated only by the +desire of public good; they mistake +their fidgetiness for philanthropy. +Not a bubble company can be +started, but what it is with a programme +that its direct object is the +public benefit, and the ten per cent +promised to the shareholders is but +a secondary consideration. Who +believes in the sincerity of that announcement? +In fine, according +both to religion and to philosophy, +virtue is the highest end of man’s +endeavour; but virtue is wholly +independent of the popular shout +or the lictor’s fasces. Virtue is the +same, whether with or without the +laurel crown or the curule chair. +Honours do not sully it, but obscurity +does not degrade. He who +is truthful, just, merciful, and kindly, +does his duty to his race, and +fulfils his great end in creation, no +matter whether the rays of his life +are not visibly beheld beyond the +walls of his household, or whether +they strike the ends of the earth; +for every human soul is a world +complete and integral, storing its +own ultimate uses and destinies +within itself; viewed only for a +brief while, in its rising on the +gaze of earth; pressing onward in +its orbit amidst the infinite, when, +snatched from our eyes, we say, ‘It +has passed away!’ And as every +star, however small it seem to us +from the distance at which it shines, +contributes to the health of our atmosphere, +so every soul, pure and +bright in itself, however far from +our dwelling, however unremarked +by our vision, contributes to the +wellbeing of the social system in +which it moves, and, in its privacy, +is part and parcel of the public +weal.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Shading my face with my hand, +I remained some moments musing +after Gray’s voice had ceased. Then +looking up, I saw so pleased and +grateful a smile upon Percival +Tracey’s countenance, that I checked +the reply by which I had intended +to submit a view of the subject in +discussion somewhat different from +that which Gray had taken from +the Portico of the Stoics. Why +should I attempt to mar whatever +satisfaction Percival’s reason or conscience +had found in our host’s argument? +His tree of life was too +firmly set for the bias of its stem +to swerve in any new direction towards +light and air. Let it continue +to rejoice in such light and +such air as was vouchsafed to the +site on which it had taken root. +Evening, too, now drew in, and we +had a long ride before us. A little +while after, we had bid adieu to +Oakden Hall, and were once more +threading our way through the +green and solitary lanes.</p> + +<p class='c012'>We conversed but little for the +first five or six miles. I was revolving +what I had heard, and considering +how each man’s reasoning +moulds itself into excuse or applause +for the course of life which +he adopts. Percival’s mind was +employed in other thoughts, as became +clear when he thus spoke:—</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Do you think, my dear friend, +that you could spare me a week or +two longer? It would be a charity +to me if you could, for I expect, +after to-morrow, to lose my young +artist, and, alas! also the Thornhills.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“How! The Thornhills? So +soon!”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I count on receiving to-morrow +the formal announcement of Henry’s +promotion and exchange into +the regiment he so desires to enter, +with the orders to join it abroad at +once. Clara, I know, will not stay +here; she will be with her husband +till he sails, and after his departure +will take her abode with his widowed +mother. I shall miss them +much. But Thornhill feels that he +is wasting his life here; and so—well—I +have acted for the best. +With respect to the artist, this +morning I received a letter from +my old friend Lord ——. He is +going into Italy next week; he +wishes for some views of Italian +scenery for a villa he has lately +bought, and will take Bourke with +him, on my recommendation, leaving +him ultimately at Rome. Lord ——‘s +friendship and countenance +will be of immense advantage to +the young painter, and obtain him +many orders. I have to break it to +Bourke this evening, and he will, +no doubt, quit me to-morrow to +take leave of his family. For myself, +as I always feel somewhat +melancholy in remaining on the +same spot after friends depart from +it, I propose going to Bellevue, +where I have a small yacht. It is +glorious weather for sea excursions. +Come with me, my dear friend! +The fresh breezes will do you good; +and we shall have leisure for talk +on all the subjects which both of +us love to explore and guess at.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>No proposition could be more +alluring to me. My recent intercourse +with Tracey had renewed +all the affection and interest with +which he had inspired my youth. +My health and spirits had been +already sensibly improved by my +brief holiday, and an excursion at +sea had been the special advice of +my medical attendant. I hesitated +a moment. Nothing called me +back to London except public business, +and, in that, I foresaw but +the bare chance of a motion in +Parliament which stood on the +papers for the next day; but my +letters had assured me that this +motion was generally expected to +be withdrawn or postponed.</p> + +<p class='c012'>So I accepted the invitation +gladly, provided nothing unforeseen +should interfere with it.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Pleased by my cordial assent, +Tracey’s talk now flowed forth with +genial animation. He described +his villa overhanging the sea, with +its covered walks to the solitary +beach—the many objects of interest +and landscapes of picturesque +beauty within reach of easy rides, +on days in which the yacht might +not tempt us. I listened with the +delight of a schoolboy, to whom +some good-natured kinsman paints +the luxuries of a home at which he +invites the schoolboy to spend the +vacation.</p> + +<p class='c012'>By little and little our conversation +glided back to our young past, +and thence to those dreams, nourished +ever by the young;—love and +romance, and home brightened by +warmer beams than glow in the +smile of sober friendship. How the +talk took this direction I know not; +perhaps by unconscious association, +as the moon rose above the forest-hills, +with the love-star by her side. +And, thus conversing, Tracey for +the first time alluded to that single +passion which had vexed the smooth +river of his life—and which, thanks +to Lady Gertrude, was already, +though vaguely, known to me.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“It was,” said he, “just such a +summer night as this, and, though +in a foreign country, amidst scenes +of which these woodland hills remind +me, that the world seemed to +me to have changed into a Fairyland; +and, looking into my heart, +I said to myself, ‘This, then, is—love.’ +And a little while after, on +such a night, and under such a +moon, and amidst such hills and +groves, the world seemed blighted +into a desert—life to be evermore +without hope or object; and, looking +again into my heart, I said, +‘This, then, is love denied!’”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Alas!” answered I, “there are +few men in whose lives there is not +some secret memoir of an affection +thwarted; but rarely indeed does +an affection thwarted leave a permanent +influence on the after-destinies +of a man’s life. On that +question I meditate an essay, which, +if ever printed, I will send to you.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>I said this, wishing to draw him +on, and expecting him to contradict +my assertion as to the enduring influence +of a disappointed love. He +mused a moment or so in silence, +and then said, “Well, perhaps so; +an unhappy love may not permanently +affect our after-destinies, still +it colours our after-thoughts. It is +strange that I should have only seen, +throughout my long and various +existence, one woman whom I could +have wooed as my wife—one woman +in whose presence I felt as if +I were born for her and she for +me.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“May I ask you what was her +peculiar charm in your eyes; or, if +you permit me to ask, can you explain +it?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“No doubt,” answered Tracey, +“much must be ascribed to the +character of her beauty, which realised +the type I had formed to myself +from boyhood of womanly loveliness +in form and face, and much +also to a mind with which a man, +however cultivated, could hold equal +commune. But to me her predominating +attraction was in a simple, +unassuming nobleness of sentiment—a +truthful, loyal, devoted, self-sacrificing +nature. In her society I +felt myself purified, exalted, as if +in the presence of an angel. But +enough of this. I am resigned to +my loss, and have long since hung +my votive tablet in the shrine of +‘Time the Consoler.’”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Forgive me if I am intrusive; +but did she know that you loved +her?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I cannot say; probably most +women discover if they are loved; +but I rejoice to think that I never +told her so.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Would she have rejected you if +you had?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Yes, unhesitatingly; her word +was plighted to another. And +though she would not, for the man +to whom she had betrothed herself, +have left her father alone in poverty +and exile, she would never have +married any one else.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“You believe, then, that she +loved your rival with a heart that +could not change?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Tracey did not immediately reply. +At last he said, “I believe this—that +when scarcely out of girlhood, +she considered herself engaged to +be one man’s wife, or for ever single. +And if, in the course of time, and +in length of absence, she could have +detected in her heart the growth of +a single thought unfaithful to her +troth, she would have plucked it +forth and cast it from her as firmly +as if already a wedded wife, with +her husband’s honour in her charge. +She was one of those women with +whom man’s trust is for ever safe, +and to whom a love at variance with +plighted troth is an impossibility. +So, she lives in my thoughts still, +as I saw her last, five-and-twenty +years ago, unalterable in her youth +and beauty. And I have been as +true to her hallowed remembrance +as she was true to her maiden vows. +May I never see her again on earth! +Her or her likeness I may find +amidst the stars.” “No,” he added, +in a lighter and cheerier tone—“No; +I do not think that my actual +destinies, my ways of life here +below, have been affected by her +loss. Had I won her, I can scarcely +conceive that I should have become +more tempted to ambition or +less enamoured of home. Still, +whatever leaves so deep a furrow in +a man’s heart cannot be meant in +vain. Where the ploughshare cuts, +there the seed is sown, and there +later the corn will spring. In a +word, I believe that everything of +moment which befalls us in this +life—which occasions us some great +sorrow—for which, in this life, we +see not the uses—has, nevertheless, +its definite object, and that that +object will be visible on the other +side of the grave. It may seem but +a barren grief in the history of a +life—it may prove a fruitful joy in +the history of a soul. For if nothing +in this world is accident, +surely all that which affects the +only creature upon earth to whom +immortality is announced, must +have a distinct and definite purpose, +often not developed till immortality +begins.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Here we had entered on the wide +spaces of the park. The deer and +the kine were asleep on the silvered +grass, or under the shade of the +quiet trees. Now, as we cleared a +beech-grove, we saw the lights +gleaming from the windows of the +house, and the moon, at her full, +resting still over the peaceful housetop! +Truly had Percival said, +“That there are trains of thought +set in motion by the stars which +are dormant in the glare of the sun”—truly +had he said, too, “That +without such thoughts man’s thinking +is incomplete.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>We gained the house, and, entering +the library, it was pleasant to +see how instinctively all rose to +gather round the master. They had +missed Percival’s bright presence +the whole day.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Some little time afterwards, +when, seated next to Lady Gertrude, +I was talking to her of the +Grays, I observed Tracey take aside +the Painter, and retire with him +into the adjoining colonnade. They +were not long absent. <a id='t279'></a>When they +returned, Bourke’s face, usually serious, +was joyous and elated. In +a few moments, with all his Irish +warmth of heart, he burst forth +with the announcement of the new +obligations he owed to Sir Percival +Tracey. “I have always said,” exclaimed +he, “that, give me an opening +and I will find or make my way. +I have the opening now; you shall +see!” We all poured our congratulations +upon the young enthusiast, +except Henry Thornhill, and his +brow was shaded and his lip quivered. +Clara, watching him, curbed +her own friendly words to the artist, +and, drawing to her husband’s side, +placed her hand tenderly on his +shoulder. “Pish! do leave me +alone,” muttered the ungracious +churl.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“See,” whispered Percival to +me, “what a brute that fine young +fellow would become if we insisted +on making him happy our own +way, and saving him from the +chance of being shot!”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Therewith rising, he gently led +away Clara, to whose soft eyes +tears had rushed; and looking back +to Henry, whose head was bended +over a volume of ‘The Wellington +Despatches,’ said in his ear, half-fondly, +half-reproachfully, “Poor +young fool! how bitterly you will +repent every word, every look of +unkindness to her, when—when +she is no more at your side to pardon +you!”</p> + +<p class='c012'>That night it was long before I +slept. I pleased myself with what +is now grown to me a rare amusement—viz., +the laying out plans +for the morrow. This holiday, with +Tracey all to myself; this summer +sail on the seas; this interval of +golden idlesse, refined by intercourse +with so serene an intelligence, +and on subjects so little +broached in the world of cities, +fascinated my imagination; and I +revolved a hundred questions it +would be delightful to raise, a hundred +problems it would be impossible +to solve. Though my life has +been a busy one, I believe that constitutionally +I am one of the most +indolent men alive. To lie on the +grass in summer noons under breathless +trees, to glide over smooth +waters, and watch the still shadows +on tranquil shores, is happiness to +me. I need then no books—then, +no companion. But if to that happiness +in the mere luxury of repose, +I may add another happiness +of a higher nature, it is in converse +with some one friend, upon subjects +remote from the practical work-day +world,—subjects akin less to our +active thoughts than to our dreamlike +reveries,—subjects conjectural, +speculative, fantastic, embracing +not positive opinions—for opinions +are things combative and disputatious—but +rather those queries +and guesses which start up from the +farthest border-land of our reason, +and lose themselves in air as we +attempt to chase and seize them.</p> + +<p class='c012'>And perhaps this sort of talk, +which leads to no conclusions clear +enough for the uses of wisdom, is +the more alluring to me, because it +is very seldom to be indulged. I +carefully separate from the business +of life all which belong to the visionary +realm of speculative conjecture. +From the world of action I +hold it imperatively safe to banish +the ideas which exhibit the cloud-land +of metaphysical doubts and +mystical beliefs. In the actual world +let me see by the same broad sun +that gives light to all men; it is only +in the world of reverie that I amuse +myself with the sport of the dark +lantern, letting its ray shoot before +me into the gloom, and caring not +if, in its illusive light, the thorn-tree +in my path take the aspect of +a ghost. I shall notice the thorn-tree +all the better, distinguish more +clearly its shape, when I pass by it +the next day under the sun, for the +impression it made on my fancy +seen first by the gleam of the dark +lantern. Now, Tracey is one of the +very few highly-educated men it has +been my lot to know, with whom +one can safely mount in rudderless +balloons, drifting wind-tossed after +those ideas which are the phantoms +of Reverie, and wander, ghost-like, +out of castles in the air. And my +mind found a playfellow in his, +where, in other men’s minds, as +richly cultured, it found only companions +or competitors in task-work.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Towards dawn, I fell asleep, and +dreamt that I was a child once +more, gathering bluebells and chasing +dragonflies amidst murmuring +water-reeds. The next day I came +down late; all had done breakfast. +The Painter was already gone; the +Librarian had retired into his den. +Henry Thornhill was walking by +himself to and fro, in front of the +window, with folded arms and downcast +brow. Percival was seated +apart, writing letters. Clara was +at work, stealing every now and +then a mournful glance towards +Henry. Lady Gertrude, punctiliously +keeping her place by the tea-urn, +filled my cup, and pointed to a +heap of letters formidably ranged +before my plate. I glanced anxiously +and rapidly over these unwelcomed +epistles. Thank heaven, nothing to +take me back to London! My political +correspondent informed me, +by a hasty line, that the dreaded +motion which stood first on the parliamentary +paper for that day would +in all probability be postponed, +agreeably to the request of the Government. +The mover of it had not, +however, given a positive answer; +no doubt he would do so in the +course of the night (last night); and +there was little doubt that, as a +professed supporter of the Government, +he would yield to the request +that had been made to him.</p> + +<p class='c012'>So, after I had finished my abstemious +breakfast, I took Percival +aside and told him that I considered +myself free to prolong my stay, and +asked him, in a whisper, if he had +yet received the official letter he +expected, announcing young Thornhill’s +exchange and promotion.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Yes,” said he, “and I only waited +for you to announce its contents +to poor Henry; for I wish you to +tell me whether you think the news +will make him as happy as yesterday +he thought it would.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Tracey and I then went out, and +joined Henry in his walk. The +young man turned round on us an +impatient countenance.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“So we have lost Bourke,” said +Tracey. “I hope he will return to +England with the reputation he goes +forth to seek.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Ay,” said Henry, “Bourke is a +lucky dog to have found, in one who +is not related to him, so warm and +so true a friend.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Every dog, lucky or unlucky, +has his day,” said Percival, gravely.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Every dog except a house-dog,” +returned Henry. “A house-dog is +thought only fit for a chain and a +kennel.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Ah, happy if his happiness he +knew!” replied Tracey. “But I +own that liberty compensates for +the loss of a warm litter and a good +dinner. Away from the kennel and +off with the chain! Read this letter, +and accept my congratulations—<em>Major</em> +Thornhill!”</p> + +<p class='c012'>The young man started; the +colour rushed to his cheeks; he +glanced hastily over the letter held +out to him; dropped it; caught his +kinsman’s hand, and pressing it to +his heart, exclaimed, “Oh, sir, +thanks, thanks! So then, all the +while I was accusing you of obstructing +my career you were quietly +promoting it! How can you forgive +me my petulance, my ingratitude?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Tut,” said Percival, kindly, +“the best-tempered man is sometimes +cross in his cups; and nothing, +perhaps, more irritates a +young brain than to get drunk on +the love of glory.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>At the word glory the soldier’s +crest rose, his eye flashed fire, his +whole aspect changed, it became +lofty and noble. Suddenly his eye +caught sight of Clara, who had +stepped out of the window, and +stood gazing on him. His head +drooped, tears rushed to his eyes, +and with a quivering, broken voice, +he muttered, “Poor Clara—my wife, +my darling! Oh, Sir Percival, truly +you said how bitterly I should repent +every unkind word and look. +Ah, they will haunt me!”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Put aside regrets now. Go and +break the news to your wife: support, +comfort her; you alone can. I +have not dared to tell her.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Henry sighed and went, no longer +joyous, but with slow step and paling +cheek, to the place where Clara +stood. We saw him bend over the +hand she held out to him, kiss it +humbly, and then passing his arm +round her waist, he drew her away +into the farther recesses of the garden, +and both disappeared from our +eyes.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“No,” said I, “he is not happy; +like us all, he finds that things +coveted have no longer the same +charm when they are things possessed. +Clara is avenged already. +But you have done wisely. Let +him succeed or let him fail, you +have removed from Clara her only +rival. If you had debarred him +from honour you would have estranged +him from love. Now you +have bound him to Clara for life. +She has ceased to be an obstacle +to his dreams, and henceforth she +herself will be the dream which his +waking life will sigh to regain.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Heaven grant he may come back, +with both his legs and both his +arms; and, perhaps, with a bit of +ribbon, or five shillings’ worth of +silver on his breast,” said Percival, +trying hard to be lively. +“Of all my kinsmen, I think I like +him the best. He is rough as the +east wind, but honest as the day. +Heigho! they will both leave us in +an hour or two. Clara’s voice is so +sweet; I wonder when she will sing +again! What a blank the place +will seem without those two young +faces! As soon as they are gone, +we two will be off. Aunt Gertrude +does not like Bellevue, and will pay +a visit for a few days to a cousin of +hers on the other side of the county. +I must send on before to let the +housekeeper at Bellevue prepare +for our coming. Meanwhile, pardon +me if I leave you—perhaps you +have letters to write; if so, despatch +them.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>I was in no humour for writing +letters, but when Percival left me I +strolled from the house into the +garden, and, reclining there on a +bench opposite one of the fountains, +enjoyed the calm beauty of the +summer morning. Time slipped by. +Every now and then I caught sight +of Henry and Clara among the lilacs +in one of the distant walks, his arm +still round her waist, her head leaning +on his shoulder. At length +they went into the house, doubtless +to prepare for their departure.</p> + +<p class='c012'>I thought of the wild folly with +which youth casts away the substance +of happiness to seize at the +shadow which breaks on the wave +that mirrors it; wiser and happier +surely the tranquil choice of Gray, +though with gifts and faculties far +beyond those of the young man +who mistook the desire of fame for +the power to win it. And then my +thoughts settling back on myself, I +became conscious of a certain melancholy. +How poor and niggard +compared with my early hopes had +been my ultimate results! How +questioned, grudged, and litigated, +my right of title to every inch of +ground that my thought had discovered +or my toils had cultivated! +What motive power in me had, +from boyhood to the verge of age, +urged me on “to scorn delight and +love laborious days?” Whatever the +motive power once had been, I could +no longer trace it. If vanity—of +which, doubtless, in youth I had +my human share—I had long since +grown rather too callous than too +sensitive to that love of approbation +in which vanity consists. I was +stung by no penury of fortune, influenced +by no feverish thirst for a +name that should outlive my grave, +fooled by no hope of the rewards +which goad on ambition. I had +reached the age when Hope weighs +her anchor and steers forth so far +that her amplest sail seems but a +silvery speck on the last line of the +horizon. Certainly I flattered myself +that my purposes linked my +toils to some slight service to mankind; +that in graver efforts I was +asserting opinions in the value of +which to human interests I sincerely +believed, and in lighter aims +venting thoughts and releasing fancies +which might add to the culture +of the world—not, indeed, fruitful +harvests, but at least some lowly +flowers. But though such intent +might be within my mind, could I +tell how far I unconsciously exaggerated +its earnestness—still less +could I tell how far the intent was +dignified by success? “Have I +done aught for which mankind +would be the worse were it swept +into nothingness to-morrow?”—is +a question which many a grand +and fertile genius may, in its true +humility, address mournfully to itself. +It is but a negative praise, +though it has been recorded as a +high one, to leave</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“No line which, dying, we would wish to blot.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>If that be all, as well leave no line +at all. He has written in vain who +does not bequeath lines that, if +blotted, would be a loss to that +treasure-house of mind which is the +everlasting possession of the world. +Who, yet living, can even presume +to guess if he shall do this? Not +till at least a century after his +brain and his hand are dust can +even critics begin to form a rational +conjecture of an author’s or a statesman’s +uses to his kind. Was it, +then, as Gray had implied, merely +the force of habit which kept me +in movement? if so, was it a habit +worth all the sacrifice it cost? Thus +meditating, I forgot that if all men +reasoned thus and acted according +to such reasoning, the earth would +have no intermediate human dwellers +between the hewers and diggers, +and the idlers, born to consume the +fruits which they do not plant. +Farewell, then, to all the embellishments +and splendours by which civilised +man breathes his mind and +his soul into nature. For it is not +only the genius of rarest intellects +which adorns and aggrandises social +states, but the aspirations and the +efforts of thousands and millions, +all towards the advance and uplifting +and beautifying of the integral, +universal state, by the energies +native to each. Where would +be the world fit for Traceys and +Grays to dwell in, if all men philosophised +like the Traceys and the +Grays? Where all the gracious +arts, all the generous rivalries of +mind, that deck and animate the +bright calm of peace? Where all +the devotion, heroism, self-sacrifice +in a common cause, that exalt +humanity even amidst the rage and +deformities of war, if, throughout +well-ordered, close-welded states, +there ran not electrically, from +breast to breast, that love of honour +which is a part of man’s sense +of beauty, or that instinct towards +utility which, even more than the +genius too exceptional to be classed +amongst the normal regulations of +social law, creates the marvels of +mortal progress? Not, however, I +say, did I then address to myself +these healthful and manly questions. +I felt only that I repined, +and looked with mournful and +wearied eyes along an agitated, +painful, laborious past. Rousing +myself with an effort from these embittered +contemplations, the charm +of the external nature insensibly +refreshed and gladdened me. I +inhaled the balm of an air sweet +with flowers, felt the joy of the +summer sun, from which all life +around seemed drawing visible happiness, +and said to myself gaily, +“At least to-day is mine—this +blissful sunlit day—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in10'>‘<span lang="la">Nimium breves</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="la">Flores amænæ ferre jube rosæ,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span lang="la">Dum res et ætas et sororum,</span></div> + <div class='line in4'><span lang="la">Fila trium patiuntur atra!</span>’”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>So murmuring, I rose as from a +dream, and saw before me a strange +figure—a figure, uncouth, sinister, +ominous as the evil genius that +startled Brutus on the eve of Philippi. +I knew by an unmistakable +instinct that that figure <em>was</em> an evil +genius.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Do you want me? Who and +what are you?” I asked, falteringly.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Please your honour, I come express +from the N—— Station. A +telegram.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>I opened the scrap of paper extended +to me, and read these +words,—</p> + +<p class='c012'>“O—— positively brings on his +motion. Announced it last night +too late for post. Division certain—probably +before dinner. Every +vote wanted. Come directly.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Said the Express with a cruel +glee, as I dropped the paper, “Sir, +the station-master also received a +telegram to send over a fly. I have +brought one; only just in time to +catch the half-past twelve o’clock; +no other train till six. You had +best be quick, sir.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>No help for it. I hurried back +to the house, bade my servant follow +by the next train with my portmanteau—no +moments left to wait +for packing; found Tracey in his +quiet study—put the telegram into +his hands. “You see my excuse—adieu.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Does this motion, then, interest +you so much? Do you mean to +speak on it?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“No, but it must not be carried. +Every vote against it is of consequence. +Besides, I have promised +to vote, and cannot stay away with +honour.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Honour! That settles it. I +must go to Bellevue alone; or shall +I take Caleb and make him teach +me Hebrew? But surely you will +join me to-morrow, or the next +day?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Yes, if I can. But heavens!” +(glancing at the clock)—“not half +an hour to reach the station—six +miles off. Kindest regards to Lady +Gertrude—poor Clara—Henry—and +all. Heaven bless you!”</p> + +<p class='c012'>I am in the fly—I am off. I +gain the station just in time for the +train—arrive at the House of Commons +in more than time as to a +vote, for the debate not only lasted +all that night, but was adjourned +till the next week, and lasted the +greater part of that, when it was +withdrawn, and—no vote at all!</p> + +<p class='c012'>But I could not then return to +Tracey. Every man accustomed to +business in London knows how, +once there, hour after hour, arises +a something that will not allow him +to depart. When at length freed, +I knew Tracey would no longer +need my companionship—his Swedish +philosopher was then with him. +They were deep in scientific mysteries, +on which, as I could throw +no light, I should be but a profane +intruder. Besides, I was then summoned +to my own country place, +and had there to receive my own +guests, long pre-engaged. So passed +the rest of the summer; in the +autumn I went abroad, and have +never visited the Castle of Indolence +since those golden days. In +truth I resisted a frequent and a +haunting desire to do so. I felt +that a second and a longer sojourn +in that serene but relaxing atmosphere +might unnerve me for the +work which I had imposed on myself, +and sought to persuade my +tempted conscience was an inexorable +duty. Experience had taught +me that in the sight of that intellectual +repose, so calm and so +dreamily happy, my mind became +unsettled, and nourished seeds that +might ripen to discontent of the lot +I had chosen for myself. So then, +<i><span lang="la">sicut meus est mos</span></i>, I seize a consolation +for the loss of enjoyments that +I may not act anew by living them +over again, in fancy and remembrance: +I give to my record the +title of “Motive Power,” though it +contains much episodical to that +thesis, and though it rather sports +around the subject so indicated +than subjects it to strict analysis. +But I here take for myself +the excuse I have elsewhere made +for Montaigne, in his loose observance +of the connection between +the matter and the titles of his +essays.</p> + +<p class='c012'>I must leave it to the reader to +blame or acquit me for having admitted +so many lengthy descriptions, +so many digressive turns and +shifts of thought and sentiment, +through which, as through a labyrinth, +he winds his way, with steps +often checked and often retrogressive, +still, sooner or later, creeping +on to the heart of the maze. There +I leave him to find the way out. +Labyrinths have no interest if we +give the clue to them.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span> + <h2 class='c002'>MRS CLIFFORD’S MARRIAGE.</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c010'>PART I.</h3> +<h4 class='c010'>CHAPTER I.—THE LADIES’ OPINION.</h4> + +<p class='c011'>“You don’t mean to say she’s +going to be married—not Mary? I +don’t believe a word of it. She +was too fond of her poor husband +who put such trust in her. No, +no, child—don’t tell such nonsense +to me.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>So said old Miss Harwood when +the dreadful intelligence was first +communicated to her. The two +old sisters, who were both charitable +old souls, and liked to think +the best of everybody, were equally +distressed about this piece of village +scandal. “I don’t say anything +about her poor husband—he +was a fool to trust so much to a +woman of her age,” said Miss +Amelia; “but in my opinion Mary +Clifford has sense to know when +she’s well off.” The very idea +made the sisters angry: a woman +with five thousand a-year, with five +fine children, with the handsomest +house and most perfect little establishment +within twenty miles of +Summerhayes; a widow, with nobody +to cross or contradict her, +with her own way and will to her +heart’s content—young enough to +be still admired and paid attention +to, and old enough to indulge in +those female pleasures without +any harm coming of it; to think +of a woman in such exceptionally +blessed circumstances stooping her +head under the yoke, and yielding +a second time to the subjection of +marriage, was more than either of +the Miss Harwoods could believe.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“But I believe it’s quite true—indeed, +I <em>know</em> it’s quite true,” +said the curate’s little wife. “Mr +Spencer heard it first from the Miss +Summerhayes, who did not know +what to think—their own brother, +you know; and yet they couldn’t +forget that poor dear Mr Clifford +was their cousin; and then they +are neither of them married themselves, +poor dears, which makes +them harder upon her.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“We have never been married,” +said Miss Amelia; “I don’t see +what difference that makes. It is +amusing to see the airs you little +creatures give yourselves on the +strength of being married. I suppose +<em>you</em> think it’s all right—it’s a +compliment to her first husband, +eh? and shows she was happy with +him?—that’s what the men say +when they take a second wife; +that’s how you would do I suppose, +if——”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, Miss Amelia, don’t be so +cruel,” cried the little wife. “I +should die. Do you think I could +ever endure to live without Julius? +I don’t understand what people’s +hearts are made of that can do such +things: but then,” added the little +woman, wiping her bright eyes, +“Mr Clifford was not like my husband. +He was very good, I daresay, +and all that—but he wasn’t +——. Well, I don’t think he was +a taking man. He used to sit such +a long time after dinner. He used +to——it’s very wicked to be unkind +to the dead—but he wasn’t +the sort of man a woman could +break her heart for, you know.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I should like to know who is,” +said Miss Amelia. “He left her +everything, without making provision +for one of the children. He +gave her the entire power, like a +fool, at her age. He did not deserve +anything better; but it appears +to me that Mary Clifford has +the sense to know when she’s well +off.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Well, well!” said old Miss Harwood, +“I couldn’t have believed +it, but now as you go on discussing, +I daresay it’ll turn out true. +When a thing comes so far as to be +discussed, it’s going to happen. +I’ve always found it so. Well, +well! love has gone out of fashion +nowadays. When I was a girl +things were different. We did not +talk about it half so much, nor +read novels. But we had the right +feelings. I daresay she will just be +as affectionate to Tom Summerhayes +as she was to her poor dear +husband. Oh, my dear, it’s very +sad—I think it’s very sad—five fine +children, and she can’t be content +with that. It’ll turn out badly, +dear, and that you’ll see.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“He’ll swindle her out of all her +money,” said Miss Amelia.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, don’t say such dreadful +things,” cried the curate’s little wife, +getting up hastily. “I am sure I +hope they’ll be happy—that is, as +happy as they <em>can</em> be,” she added, +with a touch of candid disapproval. +“I must run away to baby now; +the poor dear children!—I must say +I am sorry for them—to have another +man brought in in their poor +papa’s place; but oh, I must run +away, else I shall be saying cruel +things too.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>The two Miss Harwoods discussed +this interesting subject largely +after Mrs Spencer had gone. +The Summerhayes people had been, +on the whole, wonderfully merciful +to Mrs Clifford during her five years’ +solitary reign at Fontanel. She +had been an affectionate wife—she +was a good mother—she had worn +the weeds of her widowhood seriously, +and had not plunged into +any indiscreet gaieties when she +took them off; while, at the same +time, she had emerged sufficiently +from her seclusion to restore Fontanel +to its old position as one +of the pleasantest houses in the +county. What could woman do +more? Tom Summerhayes was her +husband’s cousin; he had been +brought up to the law, and naturally +understood affairs in general better +than she did. Everybody knew +that he was an idle fellow. After +old Mr Summerhayes died, everybody +quite expected that Tom +would settle down in the old manor, +and live an agreeable useless life, +instead of toiling himself to death +in hopes of one day being Lord +Chancellor—a very unlikely chance +at the best; and events came about +exactly as everybody had predicted. +At the same time, the entire neighbourhood +allowed that Tom had +exerted himself quite beyond all +precedent on behalf of his cousin’s +widow. Poor Mary Clifford had a +great deal too much on her hands, +he was always saying. It was a +selfish sort of kindness to crush +down a poor little woman under all +that weight of wealth and responsibility; +and so, at last, here was +what had come of it. The Miss +Harwoods sat and talked it all over +that cold day in the drawing-room +of Woodbine Cottage, which had +one window looking to the village-green, +and another, a large, round, +bright bow-window, opening to the +garden. The fire was more agreeable +than the garden that day. +Miss Harwood sat knitting in her +easy-chair, while Miss Amelia occupied +herself in ticketing all that +miscellaneous basket of articles destined +for the bazaar of ladies’ work +to be held in Summerhayes in +February; but work advanced +slowly under the influence of such +an inducement to talk. The old +ladies, as may be supposed, came +to a sudden pause and looked confused +and guilty when the door +opened and the Miss Summerhayes +were announced. Perhaps the new +visitors might even have heard +something of the conversation which +was going on with so much animation. +Certainly it came to a most +abrupt conclusion, and the Miss +Harwoods looked consciously into +each other’s faces when the ladies of +the manor-house came to the door.</p> + +<p class='c012'>These ladies were no longer young, +but they were far from having +reached the venerable certainty of +old-maidenhood which possessed +the atmosphere of Woodbine Cottage. +They were still in the fidgety +unsettled stage of unweddedness—women +who had fallen out of their +occupation, and were subject to little +tempers and vapours, not from +real ill-humour or sourness, but simply +by reason of the vacancy and +unsatisfaction of their lives. The +Miss Summerhayes often enough +did not know what to do with themselves; +and being unphilosophical, +as women naturally are, they set +down this restless condition of +mind, not to the account of human +nature generally, and of female +impatience in particular, but to +their own single and unwedded +condition—a matter which still +seemed capable of remedy; so that +the fact must be admitted, that Miss +Laura and Miss Lydia were sometimes +a little flighty and uncertain +in their temper; sometimes a little +harsh in their judgments; and, in +short, in most matters, betrayed a +certain unsettledness and impatience +in their minds, as people generally +do, in every condition of existence, +when they are discontented +with their lot. The chances are that +nothing would have pleased them +better than to have plunged into an +immediate discussion of all the circumstances +of this strange piece of +news with which Summerhayes was +ringing; but the position was complicated +by the fact that they were +accompanied by little Louisa Clifford, +who was old enough to understand +all that was said, and quick +enough to guess at any allusion +which might be made to her mother, +however skilfully veiled; so that, +on the whole, the situation was as +difficult a one for the four ladies, +burning to speak but yet incapable +of utterance, as can well be conceived.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, how far on <em>you</em> are,” cried +Miss Laura; “I have not got in half +the work that has been promised to +me; but you always are first with +everything—first in gardening, first +in working, first in——”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“All the news, I am sure,” said +Miss Lydia; “we, of course, never +hear anything till it has happened. +Provoking! Loo, shouldn’t you like +to go to Miss Harwood’s maid, and +ask her to show you the chickens? +She has a perfect genius for poultry, +though she is such a little thing; +and Miss Amelia has such loves of +dorkings. We shan’t be leaving +for half an hour; now go, there’s a +dear!”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Thank you, cousin Lydia, I’d +rather look at the things for the +bazaar,” returned Loo, lifting a pair +of acute suspicious eyes; a pale-faced +little creature, sharp-witted +and vigilant, instinctively conscious +why her amusement was thus carefully +provided for—Loo did not +choose to go.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Such a nuisance!” said Miss +Laura; “I say we are just far enough +off at the manor to be out of reach +of everything except the bores and +the troubles. You always think of +us when you have stupid visitors, +but you keep all that’s exciting to +yourselves. Loo, darling! the Miss +Harwoods’ violets are always out +earlier than any one else’s. I have +such a passion for violets! Do run +out, dear, and see if you can find one +for me yonder under the hedge.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I will ask mamma to send you +some to-morrow, cousin Laura,” said +the determined little Loo.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Did you ever hear anything +like it?” said Miss Lydia, in a half +whisper. “Loo!”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Loo will carry this basket up-stairs +for me to my room,” said Miss +Harwood, “and ask Harriet to show +you the things in my cupboard, +dear. All the prettiest things are +there, and such a very grand cushion +that I mean to make your mamma +buy. Tell Harriet to show you everything; +there’s a darling! That is +a very bright little girl, my dears,” +said the old lady, when Loo withdrew, +reluctant but dutiful. “I +hope nothing will ever be done to +crush her spirit. I suppose you must +have both come to tell us it’s not +true.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, you mean about my brother +and Mary Clifford,” cried out both +sisters in a breath. “Oh, Miss Harwood, +did you ever hear of such a +thing! Did you ever know anything +so dreadful! Tom, that might have +married anybody!” cried Miss Lydia; +“and Mary Clifford, that was so +inconsolable, and pretended to have +broken her heart!” cried the younger +sister. They were both in a flutter +of eagerness, neither permitting the +other to speak.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh dear, dear, it does come so +hard upon us,” said Miss Laura, +“we that have always had such a +prejudice against second marriages; +and a cousin’s widow—it’s almost +like a brother; and if poor Harry +could rise from his grave, what +would he say!” concluded Miss Lydia, +who took up the strain without +any intervals of punctuation. “I +begin to think it’s all true the gentlemen +say about women’s inconstancy; +that is, your common style +of women,” ran on the elder without +any pause; “and poor dear Tom, +who might have married any one,” +cried the younger, out of breath.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Then I perceive,” said Miss +Amelia Harwood, “it’s true? Well, +I don’t see much harm, for my part, +if they have everything properly +settled first. Poor Harry was all +very well, I daresay, but he was a +great fool not to provide for his +children. Your brother said so at +the time; but I did think, for my +part, that Mary Clifford had the +sense to know when she was well +off.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, she shows that,” cried Lydia +Summerhayes, with a little toss +of her head; “widows are so designing; +they know the ways of men, +and how to manage them, very differently +from any of us—if <em>we</em> could +stoop to such a thing, which of +course, we wouldn’t. Oh yes, Mary +Clifford knows <em>very</em> well what she’s +about. I am sure I have told Tom +he was her honorary secretary for +many a day. I thought she was just +making use of him to serve her own +purpose; I never thought how far +her wiles went. If it had been her +lawyer, or the curate, or any humble +person; but Tom! He might +have done so much better,” said +Laura, chiming in at some imperceptible +point, so that it was impossible +to tell where one voice +ended and the other began.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Well, I must say I am disappointed +in Mary Clifford,” said Miss +Harwood, “she was always such an +affectionate creature. That’s why +it is, I daresay. These affectionate +people can’t do without an object; +but her five children——”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Ah! yes, her five children,” exclaimed +the Miss Summerhayes; +“only imagine dear Tom making +such a marriage! Why, Charley +Clifford has been at Eton ever so +long; he is fifteen. And dear Tom +is quite a young man, and might +have married anybody,” said the +last of the two, taking up the chorus: +“it is too dreadful to think +of it—such a cutting blow to us.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I can’t see how it is so very +bad for you,” said Miss Amelia +Harwood; “of course they will live +at Fontanel, and you will still keep +the manor-house. I think it’s +rather a good thing for you for my +part. Hush! there’s the child again—clever +little thing—she knows +quite well what we’ve been talking +of. My dear, I hope Harriet showed +you all the things—and isn’t +that a pretty cushion? Tell your +mamma I mean to make her buy +it, as she is the richest lady I +know.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Are you going, my dears?” said +the elder old lady. “I am sorry +you have so little time to stay—I +hope you will find things arrange +themselves comfortably, and that +everybody will be happy. Don’t +get excited—it’s astonishing how +everything settles down. You want +to speak to me, Loo,” said Miss +Harwood, starting a little when she +had just reseated herself in her +easy-chair after dismissing her +visitors. “Certainly, dear; I suppose +you have set your little heart +on one of the pretty pincushions +up-stairs.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“No, indeed, nothing of the sort—I +hope I know better than to care +for such trumpery,” said Loo, with +an angry glow on her little pale face. +“I stopped behind to say, that whatever +mamma pleases to do, we mean +to stand by her,” cried poor Mary +Clifford’s only champion. “I’m +not sure whether I shall like it or +not for myself—but we have made +up our minds to stand by mamma, +and so we will, as long as we live; +and she shall do what she likes!” +cried the little heroine. Two big +tears were in those brown eyes, +which looked twice as bright and +as big through those great dew-drops +which Loo would not for the +world have allowed to fall. She +opened her eyelids wider and wider +to re-absorb the untimely tears, and +looked full, with childish defiance, +in Miss Harwood’s face.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Loo, you are a dear!” said +prompt Miss Amelia, kissing the +child; “you shall have the prettiest +pincushion in all my basket.” The +little girl vanished suddenly after +this speech, half in indignation at +the promise, half because the tears +would not be disposed of otherwise, +and it was necessary to rush outside +to conceal their dropping. “Ah! +Amelia,” said kind old Miss Harwood, +“I’m sorry for poor Mary +in my heart—but I’d rather have +that child’s love than Tom Summerhayes.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“<em>Poor</em> Mary! for my part, I have +no patience with her,” said the +practical Miss Amelia; “a woman +come to her time of life ought to +have the sense to know when she’s +well off.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Such was the character of the +comments made upon Mrs Clifford’s +marriage when it was first talked of, +in Woodbine Cottage, and generally +among all the female portion of +society as it existed in Summerhayes.</p> + +<h4 class='c010'>CHAPTER II.—WHAT THE GENTLEMEN SAID.</h4> + +<p class='c011'>The Rector of Summerhayes was +the Miss Harwoods’ brother, much +younger however, unmarried, and +rather a fine man in his way. He +had a little dinner, as it happened, +the same evening. His table only +held six, Mr Harwood said. The +rectory was an old-fashioned house, +and the dining-room would have +quite admitted a table which could +dine twenty—but such were not the +Rector’s inclinations. There are +enough men in the neighbourhood +of Summerhayes to make it very +possible to vary your parties pleasantly +when you have a table that +only holds six, whereas with a large +number you can only have the +same people over and over again; +and Mr Harwood did not like to be +bored. He had a friend with him +from town, as he always had on +such occasions. He had his curate, +and young Chesterfield from Dalton, +and Major Aldborough, and Dr +Gossett; rather a village party—as +he explained to Mr Temple, the +stranger—but not bad company. +The dinner was a very good one, +like all the Rector’s little dinners, +and was consumed with that judicious +reticence in the way of talk, +and wise suspension of wit, which +is only practicable in a party composed +of men. By means of this +sensible quietness, the dinner was +done full justice to, and the company +expanded into full force over +their wine. Then the conversation +became animated. The Rector, +it is true, indulged in ten minutes’ +parish talk with the Doctor, +while Mr Temple and Major Aldborough +opened the first parallel +of a political duel, and young Chesterfield +discoursed on the last Meet +to poor Mr Spencer, who, reduced +into curate-hood and economy, still +felt his mouth water over such forbidden +pleasures. Then Mr Harwood +himself introduced the subject +which at that time reigned paramount +over all other subjects at +Summerhayes.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“So Tom Summerhayes is going +to marry little Mrs Clifford,” said +the Rector; “hadn’t you heard of +it? Yes, these grapes are from +Fontanel. She has a capital gardener, +and her conservatories are +the finest in the county. A very +pleasant little house altogether, +though there are some particulars +about her table which one feels to +be feeble. Her dinners are always +a little defective since poor Clifford’s +death—too mild, you know—too +sweet—want the severer taste +of a man.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Mrs Clifford—a pretty little +woman with brown eyes?” said Mr +Temple. “I’ve met her somewhere. +So she gives dinners, does +she? When I saw her she was in +the recluse line. I suppose that +didn’t last.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“It lasted quite long enough,” +said Dr Gossett; “nothing could +be more proper, or more ladylike, or +more satisfactory in every way. If +I had a wife and were unluckily to +die, I should wish her just to wear +her weeds and so forth like Mrs +Clifford—a charming woman; what +should we do without her in the +parish? but as for Tom Summerhayes——”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“He’s an ass,” growled the Major. +“What’s he got to do burdening +himself with other people’s children. +Why, there’s five of ’em, sir! +They’ll hate him like poison—they’ll +think he’s in no end of conspiracies +to shut them out of their +fortune. By Jove! if he knew as +much about other people’s children +as I do. I’ve had two families +consigned to me from India—as if +I were a reformatory, or a schoolmaster, +by Jove! <em>She’s</em> all very +well, as women go; but I wouldn’t +marry that family—no, not for +<em>twenty</em>-five thousand a-year.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I confess I think it’s a pity,” +said Mr Spencer, playing with the +Fontanel grapes. The Curate perhaps +was thinking in his heart that +such delicate little souvenirs might +have gone quite as appropriately to +his own little <em>ménage</em> as to the Rector’s, +who lacked for nothing. “It’s +like going into life at second hand, +you know. I shouldn’t like it, for +my part. The children are a drawback, +to be sure; but that’s not the +greatest, to my mind; they are nice +enough children.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Delightful children!” cried +the Doctor, “little bricks! plucky +little things! I don’t care for babies, +though they’re partly my business. +A family ready made would just +suit me.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Well, it ain’t much in my line to +say what a fellow ought or oughtn’t +to do,” said young Chesterfield. +“I’m not a marrying man myself. +I don’t pretend to understand that +sort of thing, you know. But Summerhayes +ain’t a spoon, as everybody +will allow. He knows what +he’s doing. Last time I was at +Fontanel, I couldn’t make out for +the life of me what Mrs Clifford +wanted with that new set of stables. +She said they were preparing against +Charley’s growing up. I thought +somehow Summerhayes must have +a hand in it, and it’s plain enough +now.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Well, he has done a great deal +for her,” said the Rector; “he’s +been a sort of unpaid steward at +Fontanel. I daresay she didn’t +know how to reward him otherwise. +I believe that’s the handiest way of +making it up to a man in a lady’s +fancy. It’s a dangerous kind of +business to go on long; but I don’t +know that there’s anything to find +fault with. She’s pretty and he’s +not young;—well, not exactly a +young fellow, I mean,” said the +Rector, with a half apology. “I +daresay they’ll do very well together. +If poor Clifford had only +made a sensible will—but for that +nobody would have had any right +to talk.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“And what was poor Clifford’s +will?” asked the stranger, with a +polite yawn; “men don’t generally +study their wife’s convenience in +a second marriage, in that document; +has the defunct been harder +upon this lively lady than most +husbands, or what’s wrong about +his will?”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Deuced fool, sir,” cried the Major; +“left her every farthing he had in +the world, without settling a penny +on those deuced children, or binding +her up anyhow; left her at thirty +or so, I suppose, with every penny +he had in her hands. Never heard +of such an ass. Of course that’s +what Summerhayes means, but I +can tell him it won’t be a bed of +roses. They’ll hate him like poison, +these brats will—they’ll make +parties against him—they’ll serve +him so that he’ll be sick of his +life. I know the whole business. +He’s well enough off now, with his +old father’s savings, and the manor-house, +and nothing to do; but +he’ll be a wretched man, mark my +words, if he marries Fontanel with +five children in it. It’s the maddest +thing he ever did in his +life.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“The poor lady doesn’t seem to +count for much,” said Mr Temple. +“She’s a pretty nobody, I suppose.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Upon which vehement disclaimers +rose from all the <em>convives</em>. “No, +she was a charming woman,” Gossett +said. “A dear, kind-hearted, good +little soul,” said the Rector. “Very +well as women go,” the Major admitted; +while the two young men +added warmer, but equally vague +commendations. “Yet none of you +imagine she is being married for +herself,” said the solitary individual +who did not belong to Summerhayes, +with a little laugh at the +perturbation he had caused. But +nobody saw the fun of it: they +went on with the discussion, ignoring +Mr Temple.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“When a woman is in Mrs Clifford’s +position,” said the Doctor, +“it is nonsense to talk of her <em>being</em> +married. She is active, she is no +longer passive in such a business. +She’s richer, she’s <em>gooder</em>, she’s +handsomer, she’s better off every +way than Tom Summerhayes. How +she ever came to fancy him is +the wonder to me.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Deuced nonsense,” said the +Major; “why didn’t he marry off his +sisters and set up snug for himself? +He’s old enough to know better, that +fellow is. There’s young Chesterfield +there, he’s at the time of life to +make a fool of himself; but Summerhayes +must be, let me see——”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Don’t let us go into chronology,” +said the Rector. “Poor +little Mary, I hope she’ll be happy +all the same. I married her to poor +Clifford, and I daresay I’ll have +this little business to do as well. +I wish she had a brother, or an +uncle, or some one to take that +piece of duty off my hands. I think +I will have one of my attacks, and +go off to Malvern, and leave it, +Spencer, to you.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“I wish she had an uncle or a +brother for more than that,” said +the Doctor; “it ought to be seen +to—the settlement and all that +should be looked well into. I hope +she’ll have her wits about her. +Not that I mean to ascribe any +mean motives to Tom Summerhayes; +but still when there’s five +children to be considered——”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“They’ll kill him, sir,” said the +Major, with energy. “He’ll not +enjoy her money for long, mark my +words; they’ll kill him in a year. +I have only got this to say, sir,” continued +the warrior, turning round +upon Mr Temple, who had ventured +a remark not bearing on the +present subject to the Curate, “if +this income-tax is going to be kept +up without any compensation, I’ll +emigrate—it’s the only thing that +remains for honest Englishmen. +After a life spent in the service of +my country, I’ll be driven to a +colony, sir, in my old age. It’s more +than the country can bear, and +what’s better, it’s more than the +country <em>will</em> bear. We’ll have a +revolution, by Jove! that’s what +will come of all this taxing and +paying; it’s not to be borne, sir, in +a land that calls itself free.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Whereupon politics came into +possession of the elders of the party, +and young Chesterfield resumed +that tantalising account of the +Meet which made the poor Curate +sigh.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Poor Mrs Clifford! she had but +scant sympathy in those innumerable +discussions, male and female, +of which she was at present the +subject, all in and about Summerhayes.</p> + +<h4 class='c010'>CHAPTER III.—WHAT THE CHILDREN HAD TO SAY.</h4> + +<p class='c011'>Meanwhile little Loo, with another +pair of big tears in her brown +eyes, had been driven home in the +wintry twilight over the frosty road, +which rang to every stamp of her +ponies’ heels in a way which would +have excited the little thing into +positive enjoyment of the exhilarating +sounds and sensations of rapid +motion, had things been as usual. +As it was, she sat wrapped up in a +fur cloak, with her little veil over +her face, watching the great trees +glide past in the darkening, and +turning her wistful looks now and +then to the young winterly moon, +which had strayed like a lost child +into the midst of a whole covey of +clouds, still crimsoned with reflections +from the sunset. Loo’s little +heart ached so, and she was so steadfastly +determined not to admit that +it was aching, that she was almost +glad to feel how chill her little feet +were getting, and how benumbed +the hand which was outside of the +fur cloak. She kept her little stiff +fingers exposed to the frosty breeze +all the same, and was rather glad of +that sensation of misery which gave +her a little excuse to herself for +feeling unhappy. As the tinges of +crimson stole out of the clouds, and +the sky grew so wistfully, coldly +clear around the moon, Fontanel +came in sight, with lights in all its +windows, twinkling through the +trees in the long avenue, now one +gleam, now another, as the little carriage +drove on. There first of all was +the great nursery window blazing +with firelight, where Loo meant to +hold a little committee as soon as +she got in, and where she could so +well picture “all of them” in all +their different occupations, populating +all the corners of the familiar +room. A little further on it was +the window of mamma’s room, +which lightened brightly out behind +the bare branches of the great chestnut +tree. What would the house be +without mamma? the little girl asked +herself, and the great blobs of hot +dew in her eyes fell upon her cold +fingers. “Aren’t you well, Miss +Loo?” asked the old groom who +drove her, and Loo made him a very +sharp answer in the irritation of +her troubled little heart. She ran +into the light and comfort of the +house with a perverse, childish +misery which she did not understand. +She would not let old +William take her cloak from her, +but threw it down, and stumbled +over it, and stamped her little foot, +and could have cried. Poor little +Loo! she was sick at heart, and did +not know what it meant. Instead +of going to her mother, as she usually +did, she hastened up to the +nursery where “all of them” were +in a highly riotous condition at the +moment, and where the darkness of +her little face was unnoted by all +but nurse, who took off her boots +and warmed her feet, and did away +with the only physical reason Loo +dared to pretend to as an excuse +for looking wretched. It was not +very easy to look wretched in that +room. By the side of the fire where +a great log blazed was Harry, aged +ten, with a great book clasped in +his arms, and his cheeks and hair +equally scorched and crimsoned +with near vicinity to the flame. +Little Mary, and Alf, the baby, +were playing at the other end of +the room. Alf was six, though he +was the baby; but Mrs Clifford was +the kind of woman to love a pet, +and the little fellow’s indignant +manhood was still smothered in +long curls and lace tuckers. He +avenged himself by exercising the +most odious tyranny over his next +little sister, who was Baby’s slave. +All this little company Loo looked +round upon with mysterious looks. +She herself was twelve, little and +pale, with nothing particular about +her but her eyes, and her temper, +which had already made itself, unfortunately, +felt through the house. +She sat maturing her plans till she +heard the clock strike, and saw that +it would shortly be time to go to +her mother in her dressing-room, as +the Fontanel children always did +before dinner. She immediately +bestirred herself to her task.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Nurse,” said Loo, “will you +take these things down to mamma’s +dressing-room, please, and tell her +we will all come presently; and if you +wish to go down-stairs, you may. I +will take care of the children, and +take them down to mamma.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Thank you, Miss Loo; but +there’s nobody to be at dinner but +Mr Summerhayes and Mademoiselle, +and you’re all to go down,” +said Nurse; “you’re too little to +have the charge of Master Alf, and +you’ve all got to be dressed, dears, +for dessert.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Then you can come up when I +ring. I want the children by themselves,” +said little Loo, with her +imperious air. “You can go away.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“You’re a deal too forward for +such a little thing. I’ll speak to +your ma, Miss, I will,” said the offended +nurse. “At least I would if +it was any good; but as long as +Missis encourages her like this;—oh +children dear, there’s changed times +coming! You won’t have the upper +hand always; it’s a comfort to a +poor servant anyhow, whatever it +may be to other folks. I’m going, +Miss Loo; and you’ll come up directly +the very minute you leave +your ma to be dressed.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Loo watched her to the door, and, +skipping off her chair, closed it behind +the dethroned guardian of the +nursery. “Now, children, come +here, I want to speak to you all,” +said the little princess. “Mary, +don’t be as great a baby as Alf; +you are eight—you are almost a +woman. Alf, come here and +stand by me like a gentleman. +Harry——”</p> + +<p class='c012'>But Harry was not so easily +roused. He had been lectured so +long about scorching his face that he +was now proof to all appeals. He +had to be hunted up out of his +corner, and the book skilfully tilted +up and thrown out of his arms, +which operation surprised Loo into +a momentary laugh, of which she +was much ashamed. “Harry!” +she cried, with redoubled severity, +“it is no nonsense I am going to +talk of—it is something very serious. +Oh, children!” exclaimed the +elder sister, as Alf jumped upon +Harry’s back, and the two had a +harmless scuffle in continuation of +that assault which had roused +Harry. “Oh, children!” cried Loo, +who had laughed in spite of herself, +now bursting into quick tears of +impatience and vexation. “You +play and play and think of nothing +else—and you won’t let me talk to +you of what’s going to happen to +mamma.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“What is it?” cried Harry, opening +a pair of great bright eyes, and +coming hastily to his sister’s side. +Alf asked “What is it?” too, and +placed himself on the other hand. +As for Mary, she was frightened +and stood a little apart, ready to +rush off to her mother, or to ring +for Nurse, or to do anything else +that the exigency might demand.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Do you remember what mamma +said to us when we were in the +dining-room on Sunday after dinner, +when Tom—I mean when Mr Summerhayes +was there—when he +kissed us all?” said Loo, with a +little red spot suddenly glowing out +upon one indignant little cheek.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“She said he was going to be a +father to us,” said Harry, rather +stolidly.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“And we didn’t know what it +meant,” said little Mary, breaking +in eagerly, “but Nurse told me +afterwards. It means that mamma +is going to be married to cousin +Tom. Oh, won’t it be queer? +Shall we have to call him papa, Loo? +I shall never recollect, I am sure.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Loo gazed with eyes growing +larger and larger in the face of her +insensible sister. Then seeing +Mary’s arm on the top of the great +nursery fender, Loo, we are sorry +to say, was so far betrayed by her +resentment as to thrust little Mary +violently away with a sob of passion. +They all looked at her with wondering +eyes.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, you stupid, stupid children!” +cried the poor little heroine, +“don’t you know mamma, though +she is so pretty, is not a young lady +like other people that are going to +be married; don’t you know people +talk about it, and laugh at her, and +say she is foolish? I have heard +them do it!” cried Loo. “I heard +them in Summerhayes to-day talking +and scolding about our mamma. +She knows best what to do—better +than all of them. She will never +be unkind to us, or stop loving us. +Oh, only think if she knew that +people said such things—it would +kill her! I heard them, and I +thought I should have died. And +now, children,” said Loo, solemnly, +“what we’ve got to do is to go +down to mamma, not jumping or +making a noise like great babies, +but quiet and serious; and to tell +her that she is to do what she thinks +best, and never mind what people +say; and that we—we,” sobbed the +little girl, vainly trying to preserve +her composure, as she brought out +word after word with a gush of +tears—“we’ll stand by her and +trust in her, and never believe anything. +That is what we must go +and say.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>After she had finished her speech +Loo fell into a little passion of crying, +in which she partly lost the +slight murmurs and remonstrances +of her calmer and wondering audience; +but passion as usual carried +the day. When Mrs Clifford’s bell +rang the children went down-stairs, +looking rather scared, in a kind of +procession, Loo coming last with +Alf, who had to be held tightly by +the hand lest he should break out +into gambols, and destroy all the +solemnity of the proceeding. Mrs +Clifford was sitting by the fire when +they went in, in an attitude of +thought. The candles were not +lighted, and it was very easy to suppose +that mamma herself looked +sad, and was quite in a state of +mind to be thus addressed. Harry +and Mary, rather ashamed of themselves, +were already carrying on a +quiet scuffle at the door when Loo +came up to them. “You go first, +Harry”—“No, you,” they were +saying to each other. “Oh, you +stupid, stupid children, you have +no feeling!” cried Loo, bitterly, as +she swept past them. Mrs Clifford +looked up with a smile, and held +out her hand, which she expected +to be grasped immediately by a +crowd of little fingers, but the +mother’s looks were dreamy to-night, +and some one else was before her +children in her thoughts. She was +startled when she felt Loo’s little +cold hand put into hers, and woke +up and pushed her chair back from +the fire to look at the little things +who stood huddled together before +her. “What is the matter?” said +Mrs Clifford.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, mamma, mamma,” cried +Loo; her poor little voice grew +shrill, notwithstanding all her efforts. +She had to make a pause, +and to preserve her dignity had to +let Alf go, who immediately went +off to ride on the arm of the sofa, +and compromise the seriousness of +the scene. “Oh, mamma, dear,” +said Loo, feeling that no time was +to be lost, “we have come to say +that we will never believe anything; +that we know you love us, and will +always love us—and—and—we believe +in <em>you</em>; oh, mamma, we believe +in you, and we will always +stand by you, if everybody in the +world were on the other side.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Here Loo fell, choking with tears +and passion, on her mother’s footstool, +and laid her poor little head, +which ached with cold and crying, +on Mrs Clifford’s lap. The mother’s +eyes had woke up out of all their +dreaming. Perhaps it was as well +the candles were not lighted. That +cheek which the widow screened +with her hand was as crimson and +as hot as Harry’s had been reading +over the fire. She was glad Loo’s +keen eyes were hidden upon her +lap; she blushed, poor tender woman +as she was, before her children. +The little woman-daughter +was dreadful to her mother at the +moment—a little female judge, +endued with all the awfulness of +nature, shaming the new love in +her mature heart.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“What does this all mean, children?” +said Mrs Clifford, trying to +be a little angry, to conceal the +shock she had received.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, please mamma, it’s Loo,” +cried Mary, frightened. “She +made us come; it was one of her +passions.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“No, it was not one of her passions,” +said Harry, who was Loo’s +champion; “it was to tell mamma +we would always stand by her; +and so I will,” cried the boy on his +own account, kindling up, “if +there were any robbers or anything—for +I’m the eldest son when +Charley’s at school.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Loo heard this where she lay, +with her head on her mother’s lap; +she was incapable of speech or motion +almost, but she could not but +groan with impatience over the +stupidity of the children; and Alf +was riding loudly on the arm of +the sofa, shouting to his imaginary +horse. Loo gathered herself up +with a blush upon her cheeks; it +did not enter into her head to imagine +that her mother blushed much +more hotly and violently when the +little face unfolded itself slowly out +of her lap.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Hush! Loo, don’t say any +more,” said Mrs Clifford; then +with a little effort the mother put +her arm round the child and drew +her close. “I understand what you +mean—but you must not say any +more,” she said; then she stooped +down her hot cheek upon that wet +one of poor Loo’s. “We shall all +be very happy, I hope,” said Mrs +Clifford in the dark, in her little +daughter’s ear. “I am doing it—for—for +all your sakes, dear. He +will stand by you and me, and all +of us, Loo. I hope we shall be—very +happy—happier even than we +are now,” said Mrs Clifford, with a +faint little tremble in her voice and +quiver at her heart. When she had +kissed Loo, and the child had gone +away to compose herself, poor Mary, +the mother, sat for a long time looking +into the fire with a terrible misgiving +upon her—“happier even +than we are now.” Ah! just then +she had been so happy—all well in +the prosperous, plentiful house; +not an ache or a trouble that she +knew of among all her children; +not a single look of love dimmed +to her yet by her resolution; and +the new love, sweet as any girl’s +dream, restoring to her firmament +all the transitory delicious lights +of youth. Somehow that prospect +darkened under a strange cloud of +alarm and shame when the mother +felt her cheeks flush at the look of +her woman-child. “I am doing it +for—all their sakes,” she tried to +say to herself; but her innocence +grew like guilt as she felt in her +heart that this pretence was not +true.</p> + +<h4 class='c010'>CHAPTER IV.—HER OWN THOUGHTS.</h4> + +<p class='c011'>Mrs Clifford had not much time +to think that night, and the impression +went off her when she was +in her lover’s company—which was +very nearly always; for, long before +this had been thought of, Tom +Summerhayes had been the soul of +everything at Fontanel. She had +come so gradually to consult him +about everything—to take his counsel +upon small and great that happened—that +it seemed only natural +now that he should belong to +her; but after Loo’s little scene a +variety of annoyances came upon +Mary—indications of the world’s +opinion—evidences that it did not +seem so natural to other people as +to herself. Even Charley’s schoolboy +letter was rather dreadful to +his mother. The boy bestowed his +approbation upon her match, and +was to stand by her, too, in Loo’s +very vein; and the mother felt more +humbled by thus obtaining the consent +of her children than she would +have been by the sacrifice of all she +had in the world. Still it never +came into her head to give up her +marriage—never, perhaps, till a day +or two before, when things were +much too far advanced for any +drawing back, and when she sat +alone by her fire, with her desk +open before her, late at night when +all the household were asleep. In +her desk were various little matters +which had been treasures to Mary +Clifford. She took them out with +trembling hands—a withered flower, +given to her, oh, so long ago, when +she was little more than a child, and +preserved with girlish romance; a +little ring made of hair, which she +had worn in her days of betrothal; +a little faded drawing, +made by herself at the same period, +of her early lover; and last and most +important of all, some letters—not +many, but very tender—the love-letters +of her youth. How she had +cried over them many a sad day +after her Harry died; how she had +gradually forgotten them again and +left them in their safe concealment; +how of late she had rather avoided +the place where they were, and +shrank from touching the little +desk that contained them; and +now, at last, upon the eve of her +second wedding, here they were all +spread out before her, to be disposed +of somehow. Mary’s treasures! +she had heard them called +so—had called them so herself. +What were they now?</p> + +<p class='c012'>Poor, little, soft, tender-hearted +woman! There was no passion in +her. She was in love with all her +heart, but it was affectionately, not +passionately, or else she never could +have opened that desk. She took +out the flower, and cried, and looked +at it; then, with a hasty impulse, +put it softly on the fire, and watched +it blaze into sudden ashes, and cried +again, and felt guilty to her heart. +“I was such a child,” she said to +herself in her tears, and took a kind +of melancholy comfort from thinking +how young she had been when +she was first a bride. Then she +looked at her own drawing, which +was not the least like him, and +thought with a compunction of her +Harry. Poor Harry! All this +bright house, all these dear children, +were his as well as hers; but +he was put away in the family +vault, poor fellow, and nothing was +henceforward to belong to him in +this living world—not even the +name he had given her, not her +thoughts, not any of her heart. She +cried over that too like the rest. +She put up the ring in a little +parcel for Loo—she laid aside the +portrait for little Harry. She tried +to indemnify him by making over +all those little mementoes, which +it troubled her to look at, to his +children. Then she took up the +bundle of yellow letters and timidly +opened one of them, and read a few +sentences. There she read of the +young love that was never to die, +never to know change. Poor Mary +put them away again with a sob +almost of terror, and hastily locked +up the desk, and resolved to put it +away somewhere out of sight. She +could not examine any further into +those “treasures” which had become +ghosts. She drew her chair +to the fire, and shivered in her +thoughts. She was a simple-minded +woman, not wise, but moved by +every wind of feeling. It came to +her mind just then to recollect +how, in her first widowhood, she +had taken comfort from the thought +that Harry was near and saw her +tears for him, and knew how faithful +her poor heart was. Now that +thought was too much for Mary’s +strength. She gave a cry of helpless +terror when it occurred to her. +Alas, for that immortality of union +which comforts the heart of grief! +What if Harry met her at the very +gates of heaven when she got there, +and claimed her, she who was going +to be another man’s bride? Sitting +alone in the night, with all the +household asleep, and such thoughts +for companions, it was not wonderful +if a panic seized upon Mrs +Clifford’s heart. Poor Harry, who +had loved her so well, appeared +like a pursuing spectre to the soft +little woman. If it was true that +she belonged to him for ever and +ever, how could she dare to love +Tom Summerhayes? and if she did +not belong to him for ever and +ever—he who had loved her to the +end, and had never done anything +to forfeit her affection—what was +the hereafter, the heaven where +love, it appeared, could not be immortal? +These fancies wrung poor +Mary’s heart. She did not know +any answer to make to them. The +question put by the Sadducees nohow +answered her case. She who +blushed before her children, how +could she ever look Harry in the +face? She felt herself an infidel, +trembling and crying over that +everlastingness which had once +given her such consolation. That +Harry could ever cease to love her, +nature contradicted as impossible. +He was in heaven, far off, unseen, +fixed in solemn unchangeableness +in all the elevation of love and +grief he died in, never to alter; +and she?—— Step by step unconsciously +that elevation of grief and +love had died away from her in the +changing human days, and now here +she sat weeping, trembling, thinking +with awe of Harry, wondering +how he would claim her hereafter, +how she could dare name his name +when she was another man’s wife. +Poor little trembling soul! She +stole away to bed when she could +bear it no longer, and sought refuge +in sleep with the tears still in +her eyes, some grand and desperate +resolution of making a sacrifice of +herself being in her mind, as was +natural. She had troubled dreams, +and woke up quite unrefreshed in +the morning, which was very unlucky +that day of all others, because +the lawyers were coming, and all her +business affairs were to be settled +before her marriage. However, +Mrs Clifford could not remember +at her first waking what it was +which had thrown such a cloud +upon her; and when her thoughts +of the previous night did return +to her mind, they were neither so +intolerable nor so urgent as they +had been. In the daylight, somehow, +those gates of heaven, at +which Harry might be standing to +claim her, looked a very far way +off to the bride of Tom Summerhayes—there +was no such immediate +certainty of Harry’s existence +anyhow, or of the kind of interest +he might take in her proceedings; +and the philosophy of the question +did not recur to her mind with +those puzzling and hopeless speculations. +She was a great deal more +content to accept the present and +to postpone the future—to let hereafter +take care of itself—than she +had been at night. She put away +the desk with Harry’s letters in a +dark vacant upper shelf of a bookcase +in her own dressing-room; there, +where she could not even see it, it +would no longer witness against +her. It was a sunny morning, and +the children came in all fresh and +rosy to say their prayers, and there +was a note from Mr Summerhayes +on the breakfast-table, naming the +hour at which the law people were +to arrive. Mrs Clifford had recovered +her colour and her spirits +before they came; she was a little +agitated, and looked very pretty +in the commotion of her heart. +Hers was a position very peculiar +and interesting, as Mr Gateshead +himself, the old family solicitor, +suggested, as he read over the deed +she was to sign. He was perfectly +pleased with the arrangements altogether, +and said that Mr Summerhayes +had behaved most honourably +and in the most gentlemanly +way. It was very clear that <em>his</em> +motives were not mercenary. The +deed Mrs Clifford had to sign was +one by which Fontanel and all its +dependencies was settled upon her +eldest son, she retaining the life-interest +in it which her husband +had meant her to have. Mr Summerhayes, +who had been brought up +for the bar, had himself advised Mr +Gateshead in the drawing up of +this important document. The new +bridegroom was anxiously solicitous +that the children should be +portioned and the property distributed +exactly as the family agent, +who knew poor Clifford’s mind, +would have advised him to settle +it; and the deed was irrevocable +and framed in the most careful +manner, so that no ingenuity of the +law could make it assailable hereafter. +It was so rigid in all its +provisions that poor Mary wavered +a little over it. She thought it +scarcely fair that <em>he</em> should be shut +out entirely from every interest in +all this wealth, which, at the present +moment, belonged absolutely +to herself. It was Mr Summerhayes +himself who put, with a certain +gentle force, the pen into her hands, +and pointed exactly to the spot +where she was to sign. “I have +<em>you</em>, Mary,” he said in her ear, as +he leant over her to keep the parchment +steady; and Mary Clifford +signed away all her power and secured +her children’s rights, with “a +smile on her lip and a tear in her +eye,” feeling to her heart the delicious +flattery. What she possessed +was nothing to him—he had <em>her</em>, +and a kingdom could not make him +happier. So said the tone of his +whisper, the glance of his eye, and +the echo of her heart. This living +Love which stood by her side, securing +so carefully that Harry Clifford’s +wealth should go to Harry +Clifford’s heirs, and seeking only +herself for its own, completely +swallowed up poor Clifford’s ghost, +if that forlorn spirit might by +chance be cognisant of what was +passing. Mary remembered no +more her qualms and misgivings; +and the prospect before her—now +that the very children had got used +to it, had ceased either to oppose or +to stand by her, and had fallen into +natural excitement about the approaching +festivities, the guests +who were to be at Fontanel, the +new dresses, the great event about +to happen—looked as bright as the +glowing day.</p> + +<h4 class='c010'>CHAPTER V.—THE MARRIAGE.</h4> + +<p class='c011'>Fontanel received a considerable +party of guests for the marriage. +Miss Laura and Miss Lydia, who +were to be at the head of affairs +while the new Mrs Summerhayes +was absent on her wedding tour, +arrived two days before, that they +might get into the ways of the +place, and know what was required +of them, which was not very much, +for Mary was but a languid housekeeper. +Then there were two +aunts, an uncle, and some cousins +of Mrs Clifford, none of whom in +the least approved of the match, +though decorum and curiosity and +kindness prompted them to countenance +poor Mary in her foolishness, +notwithstanding their general +surprise, like Miss Harwood, that +she had not the sense to know when +she was well off. Then there was +Charley from Eton, who had grown +so much lately, that his mother +blushed more than ever when he +kissed her and said something kind +about her marriage. These were +not pleasant days for poor Mrs Clifford. +She knew in her heart that +nobody particularly approved of +her, not even Tom’s sisters—that +people were saying it was just what +was to be expected, and that a +woman left at her age with so much +property in her hands was sure to +make a fool of herself. She knew +that the ladies when they got together +had little conversations over +her—that one wondered why she +could not make herself happy with +these dear children, and another +with this fine place—and that a +third mused what poor Mr Clifford +would have said could he have +known. Poor Mary was very thankful +when the day dawned on her +wedding-morning—she was glad, as +brides seldom are, of the arrival of +the fated moment which was to +place things beyond the reach of +censure or criticism, and relieve her +from her purgatory. The Rector of +Summerhayes had not been called +on to do that piece of duty. The +bridegroom luckily had a friend +whose privilege it was; and still +more luckily there was a little old +disused church within the grounds +of Fontanel in which the ceremony +was to be performed, without the +necessity of encountering the gaze +and remarks of the village. It was +not intended to be a pretty wedding +or to put on those colours of +joy which become the espousals of +youth. Mingled and complicated, +as are the thoughts of middle age, +were the feelings of the two who +stood side by side before the bare +rural altar. The bridegroom was +slight and tall in figure, with a careless +languid air, through which occasionally +a little gleam of excitement +sparkled. If you watched him +closely you could see that his mind +was no way absorbed in the ceremonial +of his marriage. The quick +sudden glance here and there under +his eyelids, of those cold but clear +grey eyes, turned inquiringly to +everything within his range. He +read in the looks of the clergyman, +even while he pronounced the +nuptial blessing, what his opinion +was of the entire transaction. He +penetrated the mask of propriety in +which the bride’s relations concealed +their feelings—he investigated +with oft-repeated momentary glances +the face of Charley, who stood in +his Etonian certainty of manhood, +premature but not precocious, near +his mother’s side. Mr Summerhayes +even scanned, when all was +over, the downcast countenance of +Loo, who stood behind, watching +with stout endurance, and resolute +not to cry during the entire ceremony. +What was the meaning +which lay in those quick furtive +darts of the bridegroom’s eye it +was impossible to say; his closest +friend could not have elucidated +this strange secret by-play, of which +nobody in the company was conscious, +except, perhaps, one child; +but one thing it proved at any +rate, that his heart at this special +moment was not engrossed, to the +exclusion of everything else, by his +bride.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Mary was much less mistress of +herself. She cried quietly under +her veil as she stood and listened +to the familiar words. She repeated +those that fell to her with a little +shiver. In her heart she could +not but feel what a terrible act she +was completing as she vowed her +love and obedience over again, and +separated her future from her past. +But Mary, with her downcast eyes, +was insensible to everybody’s opinion +at that moment. Had she been +standing in a wilderness she could +not have felt more isolated. She +was conscious only of her new husband +by her side—of an indistinct +figure before her—of God above and +around, a kind of awful shadow looking +on. Mr Summerhayes was aware +of her tears, and they moved him +so that his colour heightened involuntarily, +and he pressed her hand +with a warning pressure when it +came to that part of the ceremony. +But Mary herself was not aware +that she was crying till she felt this +touch of remonstrance, which startled +her back into consciousness. +Such was this marriage, at which, +as at other marriages, people looked +on with various shades of sympathy +and criticism, and which, with all +its concealed terrors and outward +rejoicing, was the free act of hearts +uncoerced and acting only at their +own pleasure—a free act, suggested +by no third party, unless, perhaps, +it might happen to be a certain +grim inflexible Fate who, if the +reins are but yielded to her for a +moment, pursues her victim through +a throng of inevitable consequences. +But perhaps, when a woman is being +married like Mary Clifford, it +is a kind of comfort to her to feel +as if she could not help herself, rather +than to know that she is entering +all these new dangers voluntarily, +and in obedience to nobody’s +will but her own.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Well, I am sure, I wish them +every comfort in life,” said Miss +Harwood, as she stood leaning on +her brother’s arm at the hall door +of Fontanel, watching the carriage +drive off which contained the happy +pair. “She can’t feel much like a +bride, poor thing, leaving all these +children behind her. I am sure I +wish her every happiness. I hope +she’ll never live to repent it,” said +Miss Harwood, with a sigh.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Don’t be spiteful,” said the Rector. +“This is not a time for such +ill-omened wishes. It’s a very suitable +match, and I wish them +joy.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, Mr Harwood,” said Miss +Laura, taking up her position at the +Rector’s other side, thus effecting +a natural separation from Mary’s +relations, who were comparing sentiments +a little apart from the +Summerhayes party—“a suitable +match! when dear Tom is well +known to represent the oldest family +in the county, and might have +married anybody—not to say a +word against dear Mary, who is +our sister now, and such a sweet +creature. But oh, Mr Harwood,” +cried Miss Lydia, who had interposed, +as usual, “to talk of a suitable +match!”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“There are no suitable matches +nowadays. I don’t believe in ’em, +by Jove!” said Major Aldborough, +who, with eyes slightly reddened +by champagne, was watching the +carriage just then disappearing down +the avenue.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“But there might be, Major,” said +Miss Lydia, so softly that her sister +could not take up the meek remark.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The Major only answered “By +Jove!” under his breath. He was +startled by the close vicinity—the +gentle look—the mild suggestion. +He moved a little away in a momentary +panic. There was never +any telling, as he said to himself, +what these women might mean.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“It is so strange to be left in charge +of the house,” said Miss Laura, +“it gives one such a funny feeling. +I don’t know how in the world +we shall do with all the responsibility; +but dear Mary insisted upon +it, you know—though I am sure Mrs +Tansey would have been much more +suitable for the head of the table +than one of us, who are so inexperienced,” +cried Miss Lydia; “but +dear Mary thought it best for the +children’s sake. I hope, dear Mrs +Tansey, you don’t mind being our +guest,” proceeded the sisterly duet; +“dear Mary thought it of such importance +that the children should +get used to us—though they know +us perfectly well, still things are +all so different; though otherwise, +of course, she would so much have +preferred you.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, pray, don’t think it necessary +to apologise for my niece to me, +Miss Summerhayes,” said the offended +aunt. “Mary has consulted +her own inclinations, and so long +as she is happy, that is all <em>we</em> can +<em>possibly</em> want of her. I think she +is <em>quite</em> right to make friends, if she +can, in her new family. She knows +she can always calculate upon <em>us</em> if +she ever wants any service,” added +the bride’s relation, with a slight +heightening of colour and the +ghost of a curtsy. The Miss Summerhayes +were not unequal to the +emergency.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“We all know how much poor +dear Mary is liked among her own +friends,” cried Miss Lydia. “Your +dear girls were so fond of her last +year when they spent such a long +time at Fontanel; and dear Mary +has such a taste in presents,” said +Miss Laura, coming in so eagerly +that she began out of breath. “We +have gone shopping with her often +when she was buying her little +souvenirs. I hope you don’t think +it will make any difference now she +is married again. She is <em>so</em> affectionate; +but as for wanting services +from anybody, that is very unlikely,” +resumed the elder sister, “now +she has dear Tom. Dear Tom is so +very devoted,” said Miss Laura, +breaking in headlong. “You would +think she was only eighteen to see +all the attention he pays her. It is +quite sweet to see them, like two +turtle-doves.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Such being the conversation that +succeeded immediately upon the +departure of the bridal pair, it is +not to be supposed that the dinner-table +was spread with a very joyful +feast, or that the evening was spent +in much happiness. Mary’s relations, +who had up to this time felt +themselves much at ease at Fontanel, +kept greatly by themselves +during the remainder of the wedding-day. +Their occasional minglings +with the Summerhayes party +called forth bursts of smart dialogue, +more exciting than amiable, +and the opposing sides contended +much for the notice of Loo +and the other children, when they +came down-stairs in their new +dresses after dinner. It made little +Loo’s heart sick to feel herself enfolded +in the embraces of Miss +Lydia and Laura on one side, and +then to be talked to and admonished +by Aunt Tansey on the other, +who hoped she would be a good +girl, and a great comfort to her poor +mother. The children could not +tell what to make of the aspect of +affairs. Mamma gone, who was the +sun and centre of the domestic +world, and already a new rule and +vague possibilities of change in the +startled house. Down-stairs among +the servants, though the means of +merry-making were plentiful, this +threatening cloud was even more +apparent. A new master, known +to like “his own way,” was an +alarming shadow impending over +the little community hitherto mildly +and liberally governed by the +mistress, whom her servants could +scarcely forgive for the step she had +taken. “With five lovely children +and every blessin’ as this world could +afford,” as the housekeeper said, shaking +her troubled head. The new +husband by no means ranked among +the blessings of Providence to the +mistress of Fontanel in anybody’s +judgment, and nowhere was Mary’s +rash act resented more warmly than +in the servants’ hall.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“But, Loo,” said Etonian Charley, +next morning, when Aunt Tansey +and all her belongings had left +Fontanel, and everything had fallen +under the restless sway of the Miss +Summerhayes, “I’m not going to +put up with all this. You said we +were to stand up for mamma; you +mean we are only to pretend to +stand up for mamma, you little +humbug. Now that’s not my meaning,” +said the heir of Fontanel. +“I’m not going to make-believe +that I think she’s done right, when +I don’t. I am going to swallow +cousin Tom right out,” cried the +boy, not without a little flush on his +face. “It’s a little awkward, to be +sure, to know what to call him—but +look here, Loo—I mean to stand by +my mother without any humbug. +I mean to think she’s done the very +best for us all, and for herself too; +and if she don’t think the same +when she comes back, I’ll try to make +her; and if you look black, as you’re +looking, you are not the little brick +I took you for, and I won’t have +anything more to do with you, +Loo.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Oh, Charley, I am not half so +good as you are,” cried the admiring +little sister, looking up to him +with tearful eyes. Charley’s resolution +acted like a charm upon the +house in general; and so, with a +gradually improving temper, though +much pressed and fretted by Miss +Laura and Miss Lydia, the nursery +and the servants’ hall, and all the +dependencies of Fontanel, waited +for the advent of the new master +and the return of Mrs Summerhayes.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span> + <h2 class='c002'>AN ENGLISH VILLAGE—IN FRENCH.<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c015'><sup>[1]</sup></a></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c016'>The old pictures of village life +in England will hardly suit for +these modern times. The pleasant +little social circle which either existed, +or more often was imagined +to exist, as in Miss Austen’s charming +fictions, in the large well-to-do +country village, is to be found there +no longer. No one condescends in +these days to live in the country, +unless he can either do so, or affect +to do so, more or less <i><span lang="fr">en grand +seigneur</span></i>. A change has passed over +‘Our Village,’ even since Mary Russell +Mitford so admirably sketched +it. The half-pay naval lieutenant +or army captain (if any such survive) +has retired into the back +street of a cheap watering-place, not +to the improvement either of his +position or his happiness. The village +surgeon is no longer an oracle; +railways have brought “the first +advice” (at any rate, in the county +town) within the reach of almost +all his patients; and he has either +disappeared altogether, or, if he still +exists as the “Union Doctor,” badly +paid and little respected, he is seldom +now a gentleman. Village lawyers—happily +or unhappily—are +become things unknown: and as +for any gentleman’s family of independent +but moderate means +condescending to that kind of rural +seclusion, it is unheard of. If there +is any educated resident in any +country village not fixed there by +some local interest or occupation, he +is apt to have something suspicious +about his character or antecedents—to +be a refugee from his lawful +creditors, or his lawful wife, or +something of that sort.</p> + +<p class='c012'>So that English village life now +resolves itself mainly into that of +the parson; for the squire, even if +he be resident, scarcely forms part +of the same social circle. And as +to the rest, between the university +graduate, of more or less refinement +and education, and the opulent farmer +such as he is at present, there +lies a gulf which no fancy can exaggerate, +and which the best intentions +on both sides fail to bridge +over. Where village spires stand +thick together, where the majority +of the rectors or vicars are men of +the same way of thinking, and where +it is the fashion of the country to +be social, there is a good deal of +pleasant intercourse, no doubt, between +the parsons’ families, and as +much “society,” in the real if not +in the conventional sense, as is +needful to keep the higher elements +of humanity from stagnating; +but where parishes spread +far and wide over a poor or +thinly-populated district, or, worse +still, where religious sectarianism +reckons its clergy into “High” +and “Low,” and the Rector of A. +shakes his head and lifts his eyebrows +when any allusion is made +to the Vicar of B.—there, the man +whose lot has been cast in a country +parsonage had need have abundant +resources within himself, and +be supremely indifferent to the stir +of human interests without. He +will, in many cases, have almost as +far to ride in search of a congenial +neighbour as though he were in +the bush of Australia; he will find +something like the solitude of the +old monastery, without the chance +of its peace and quietness.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Not that such a life is dull or +uninteresting, by any means, unless +in the unfortunate case of the man +finding no interest in his duties. +One of this world’s many compensations +is, that the busy man, be he +what else he may, is never dull, and +seldom discontented. So it is, almost +always, in the country parsonage; +without claiming any high +standard of zeal or self-devotion for +its occupants, there is probably at +least as much quiet enjoyment, and +as little idle melancholy or fretful +discontent, to be found among them, +as among any other class of educated +men.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Still, it is a life which it would +be very difficult for a foreigner to +appreciate or understand. The relation +of the English country rector +to his villagers is totally unlike that +of the Lutheran or Roman Catholic +priest. Not claiming—or at least +not being in a position to maintain—anything +like the amount of spiritual +authority which is exercised by +the pastor under both these other +systems, he wields, in point of fact, +an amount of influence superior to +either. He cannot command the +servile and terrified obedience in +externals which is often paid by +the Irish and Italian peasant to +his spiritual guide; but he holds +a moral power over his parishioners—even +over those who professedly +decline his ministrations—of the extent +of which neither he nor they are +always conscious, but to the reality +of which the enemies of the Established +Church in England are beginning +to awake.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The reading world has perhaps +been rather over-supplied, of late +years, with novelettes in which the +village parson, with some of the +very white or very black sheep of +his flock, have been made to walk +and talk more or less naturally for +their amusement and edification; +but the sight of a little French +book on the subject struck us as +something new. It is very desirable +that our good friends across +the Channel should know something +about our ways of going on +at home; and that not only in the +public life of large towns, or on +the highways of travel and commerce, +but in our country villages +and rural districts. But French attempts +at English domestic sketches +have not, on the whole, been successful. +It is, indeed, most difficult +for a foreign visitor to draw +pictures of society in any country +which would pass muster under the +critical examination of a native. +We took up this ‘Vie de Village +en Angleterre’ with some notion +of being amused by so familiar a +subject treated by a Frenchman; +but we soon found we were in very +safe hands. The writer knows us +well, and describes us admirably, +very much as we are; the foreign +element is just strong enough to be +occasionally amusing, but never in +any way ridiculous; and we should +be as much surprised at the correctness +of the writer’s observation +as charmed with the candour and +good taste of the little volume, if +we had not heard it credibly whispered +that, although written for +French readers (and in undeniable +French), it may be claimed as the +production of an English pen.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Whatever may be the secret of +the authorship, the little book will +repay the reader of either nation. +It is written in the person of a +political refugee, who, armed with +one or two good introductions, +comes to pass a period of exile in +England. While previously travelling +in Switzerland, he has +made acquaintance with a Mr +Norris, an energetic country parson +of the modern “muscular” +type. He it is who persuades the +wanderer to study in detail, by +personal observation, that “inner +life” of England which, he has +already learnt to believe, and +rightly, forms and shapes, more +than anything else, her national +and political character. Hitherto, +as he confesses to his new acquaintance, +the coldness and reserve of +such English as he has met with +have rather frightened him; yet he +has always admired in them that +<i><span lang="fr">solidarité</span></i>—which we will not attempt +to translate. The hostility +between the labouring classes in +France and those above them has +always appeared to him the great +knot of political difficulties in that +country—a source of more danger +to real liberty and security than +any other national evil.</p> + +<p class='c012'>He determines, therefore, to see +and study this domestic character +of England for himself—“not in +her political institutions, which we +Frenchmen have been too much +accused of wishing to copy, but in +that social life which may very +possibly explain the secret of her +strength and her liberty.”—(P. 22.)</p> + +<p class='c012'>It was not his first visit to London; +and, arriving in the month +of March, he finds the climate as +bad, and the great city as dingy +and dirty, as ever. He does not +appear to have noticed our painful +efforts to consume our own smoke, +or our ambitious designs in modern +street architecture. On the other +hand, he mercifully ignores—if he +saw it—our Great Exhibition. The +crowded gin-palaces, and the state +of the Haymarket by night, disgust +him, as well they might; and he +escapes from the murky Babylon, +as soon as he has taken a few lessons +to improve his colloquial English, +to pay the promised visit to +his friend Mr Norris at his parsonage +at Kingsford; stopping on his +way to deliver a letter of introduction +to an English countess, an old +friend of his family, who has a seat +close to Lynmere, a sort of pet village, +where the ornamented cottages +form a portion of the park scenery.</p> + +<p class='c012'>In his walk from the station, he +makes the acquaintance of a “Madame +Jones,” whose cottage, with +its wooden paling and scarlet geraniums, +abutting on the pleasant +common, has its door invitingly +open. He pauses to admire the +little English picture as he passes +by. Good Mrs Jones observes him, +and begs him to walk in; partly, +we must hope (and we trust all +foreign readers will believe), out +of genuine English hospitality—though +we doubt if all village +dames in Surrey would take kindly +to a Frenchman on the tramp—partly, +it must be confessed, with +the British female’s natural eye to +business. “Perhaps Monsieur was +looking out for a ‘<i><span lang="fr">petit logement</span></i>?’” +For Mrs Jones has two rooms to +let; and even a foreigner’s money, +paid punctually, is not to be despised. +Monsieur was looking out +for nothing of the kind, but he +takes the rooms forthwith; and +indeed any modest-minded gentleman, +French or English, who wanted +country board and lodging on a +breezy common in Surrey, could not +have done better. Here is what our +traveller gets for twenty-two shillings +a-week; we only hope it will +stop the mouths of all foreigners +who rail at the dearness of English +living, when they read here the +terms on which a <i><span lang="fr">petit logement</span></i> may +be found in a pleasant situation in +the home counties—two rooms, +“fresh and clean,” comfortably furnished +(with a picture of the Queen +and a pot of musk into the bargain), +and board as follows:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“For breakfast she gave me tea with +good milk, excellent bread-and-butter, +accompanied either by a rasher of broiled +bacon or fresh eggs. For dinner there +were often ‘<i><span lang="fr">ragouts avec force oignons</span></i>’ +(Irish stew?), boiled mutton, or sometimes +a beef-steak ‘<i><span lang="fr">très-dur</span></i>,’ potatoes +and boiled cabbage, with a glass of good +beer and a bit of cheese. No dessert, +but occasionally a pudding. On Sundays, +roast-beef and plum-pudding were +apparently the rule without exception, +for they never failed to appear. The +tea in the evening was much the same as +the breakfast. If I had wished for supper, +I might have had cold meat, bread, +a lettuce, and a glass of beer.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>If Mrs Jones be not as entirely +fictitious as Mrs Harris, and would +enclose us a few cards, we think we +could undertake that her lodgings +(with a countess and a pet village, +too, close by) should not be untenanted +for a week in summertime. +We feel sure, however, that +the good lady is <em>not</em> a creature of +mere imagination: when we read +the description of her, we recall her +as an old acquaintance, though we +cannot remember her address:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“As for this good woman’s personal +appearance, she had nothing attractive +about her except her scrupulous cleanliness. +Her age belonged to that mysterious +epoch comprised between forty and +sixty. She had an intelligent countenance; +but what was most marked about +her was a slightly military air, and a +black silk bonnet which, planted on the +top of her head, tilted forward over her +face, and usually concealed half of it. +The two strings were carefully pinned +back over the brim, and the ends fluttered +on each side the bonnet, like +the plume of a <i><span lang="fr">chasseur de Vincennes</span></i>. +That bonnet, she never left it off for a +moment; and my indiscreet imagination +went so far as to speculate what could +possibly become of it at night.... +Though I had begged her to consider +herself absolute mistress in all domestic +matters—and though, moreover, I +should have found considerable difficulty +in ordering my own dinner—she never +failed to come in every morning at breakfast-time +‘for orders,’ as she called it. +It was a little ruse of hers to secure a +moment for the active exercise of her +somewhat gossiping tongue. I was enabled +to endure the torrent of words of +which good Mrs Jones disburdened herself +on such occasions the more philosophically, +inasmuch as she was nowise +exacting in the matter of an answer, and +now and then gave me some interesting +bits of information.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>The contrast which follows is +drawn from a shrewd observation +of national characteristics on both +sides of the Channel:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“This respectable dame possessed in +a high degree the good qualities and the +defects of her class of Englishwomen. +In France, the manners of women of her +order are full of expansion and sympathy; +and a small farmer’s wife, however +ignorant she may be, will always +find means to interest you in her affairs, +and to enter into yours. In England, +on the contrary, with all her gossiping +upon trifling subjects, she will maintain +the strictest reserve, so far as you are +concerned, upon matters of any importance. +She serves you much better than +a Frenchwoman would, because she +looks upon you in the light of a master—a +guest whose rank and character +she makes the most of, because that +rank and character raise her in her own +estimation; but it is only in some very +exceptional case that she will talk to +you about anything which touches her +personally, or that she will venture to +confess that she is thinking about your +concerns—that would be, in her eyes, +a breach of proper respect.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“This is the peculiar feature in the +relations between the different classes of +society in England. Society there is +profoundly aristocratic; there is no +tradesman, be he ever so professed a +Radical, who does not become a greater +man in his own eyes by receiving the +most commonplace act of courtesy from +a lord; no servant who does not feel an +additional satisfaction in waiting on a +master whose manners have a touch of +haughtiness, because such manners strike +him as a mark of superiority. It is just +as Rousseau says: ‘Clara consoles herself +for being thought less of than Julia, +from the consideration that, without +Julia, she would be thought even less of +than she is.’ The singular feature is, +that this kind of humility, which would +seem revolting to us in France, is met +with in England amongst precisely those +persons who are remarkable for their +moral qualities and for their self-respect. +It is because in them this deference becomes +a sort of courtesy, a social tact, of +which only a gentleman can understand +all the niceties—which, besides, implies +in their case nothing like servility—the +respect paid to superiors in rank is kept +within the limits of the respect due to +themselves. This peculiarity in English +manners struck me the more forcibly, +because it offers such a remarkable contrast +to what goes on among ourselves.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>There follows, at some length, +a truthful and well-written exposition +of the healthful influence exercised +upon a nation by an aristocracy +like that of England—which +we must not stop to quote. ‘<i><span lang="fr">Revenons</span></i>‘—as +the author writes, asking +pardon for so long a digression—‘<i><span lang="fr">Revenons +à Madame Jones</span></i>.’</p> + +<p class='c012'>That excellent landlady is careful +not only of the diet and other creature-comforts +of her new lodger, +but of his moral and religious wellbeing +also. A week of wet weather—which +the foreign visitor finds +sufficiently <em>triste</em>—is succeeded by +a lovely Sunday morning. The +Frenchman sallies out after breakfast +for a morning walk, with his +book under his arm—we are sorry +to say it was a ‘Tacitus’—with the +intention, we are left to suppose, of +worshipping nature on the common. +But Mrs Jones, though totally innocent +as to her lodger’s heretical +intentions, takes care to lead him +in the way that he should go.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“‘Church is at eleven,’ Mrs Jones +called out to me, not doubting for an instant +that I should go there. I went +out; she followed me close, locked all +the doors, and, stopping for a moment at +the cottage next door to call for a neighbour, +continued her way. I was taking +another path, but was very soon arrested +by the hurried approach of Mrs Jones, +who, fancying I had mistaken my way, +came after me to show me the road to +church. Such perseverance on her part +made it evident that I should risk the +loss of her good opinion if I did not profit +by her instructions; so I walked +down the hill with her by a road which +wound between broad verges of green +turf overshadowed by lofty trees.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>Thus fairly captured and led to +church in triumph, his behaviour +there was on the whole very decorous. +The impression likely to be +made on the mind of an intelligent +and well-disposed foreigner by the +simple and yet impressive service +in a well-ordered village church is +very nicely described. It is true +that Mrs Jones’s prisoner, according +to his own account, mingles with +the very proper reflections natural +to such a place “those inspired by +the volume of Tacitus which he +held open before him for decency’s +sake” (and which, we fear, must have +imposed itself upon the good lady +as a French prayer-book); a little +touch which, whether written by a +Frenchman or not, and whether +meant for truth or satire, is very +French indeed. He finds time also +to notice the features of the building +itself, and its arrangements. +The “tribune” in the gallery where +the Countess performs her devotions, +and the high enclosure with +drawn curtains—“a sort of <i><span lang="fr">petit +salon</span></i>”—which protects the family +of Mr Mason, the squire, from the +more vulgar worshippers, do not +strike the visitor, we rejoice to say, +as happy illustrations of the aristocratic +feeling in Englishmen; and +it is evidently with a quiet satisfaction +that he learns subsequently +that “<em>puséisme</em>” is trying to do +away with such distinctions.</p> + +<p class='c012'>An invitation to dinner from the +Countess gives him at once the <em>entrée</em> +to the best society in Lynmere +and its neighbourhood. He finds +his first English dinner-party a very +dull affair; but he was surely peculiarly +unfortunate in his company, +if we are to take his account of the +after-dinner conversation amongst +the gentlemen: “At the end of a +short time, two of the guests were +asleep, and I would willingly have +followed their example.” The remarks +which follow, however, touch +with more truth upon one of the +defects in our social intercourse:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“These dinners of ceremony (and +there are scarcely any other kind of entertainments +in the country amongst the +higher classes) take place between neighbours, +usually about twice in the year: +scarcely any one except the clergyman +enjoys the privilege of being received +with less of etiquette. It follows that +it is very possible to pass one’s life +for ten years in the same spot, without +having any really intimate association +with any one of one’s neighbours. +There are very few English people who +do not regret it. Yet such is the despotism +of custom, that it is rare to find +any family which dreams of freeing itself +from the trammels of this etiquette.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>Here and there, of late, the links +of this social despotism, under which +we have groaned so long, show +symptoms of giving way. The advance +of fashion has done good +service in one respect, that the +modern service <i><span lang="fr">à la Russe</span></i>, adopted +in all good houses, has struck a decisive +blow at the old English heavy +dinner; and just as the fashion has +long died out of pressing one’s +guests to eat more than they wish, +so the fashion is coming in of not +thinking it necessary to put upon +the table three times more than can +by any possibility be eaten. When +small dinners become “the thing” +even amongst the great people, +there is hope that their lesser imitators +will follow the example. +And whenever the mistresses of small +families will learn that good and +careful cookery is quite as cheap as +bad, and much more wholesome, +and will condescend to go back not +only to their great-grandmothers’ +hoops, but to their household receipt-books, +they may venture to invite +their personal friends without compunction +to a pleasant family-dinner, +to the great furtherance of real +sociability, and get rid for ever of +those annual or biennial festivals +which are a burden to the weary +souls of guests and entertainers.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The foreign visitor becomes, in a +very short time, established on a +footing of intimacy with the family +of Mr Mason, a magistrate and +landed proprietor residing in the +parish, in whose household Mrs Jones +has formerly lived as nurse. The +introduction through the Countess +on the one part, and on the other +the warm eulogies of good Mrs +Jones (who is never tired of sounding +the praises of her old master and +the young ladies whom she has +brought up), may serve in some degree +to explain the somewhat rapid +adoption of “Monsieur” as a family +friend into the thrice-guarded circle +of an English household. On his +part, indeed, we soon discover quite +a sufficient attraction. There is a +pale pensive sentimental “Miss +Mary,” quite the sort of young lady, +we should say, to take the fancy +of a romantic Frenchman in exile; +but as she does not happen to take +ours especially, we confess to have +found no particular interest in this +new version of ‘Love in a Village,’ +and shall leave our younger readers +to enjoy the romance of the little +book for themselves, without forestalling, +even by a single hint, its +course or its conclusion. So far as +relates to Monsieur himself, we repeat, +we can quite understand how +readily he responded to the warm +adoption of his new English friends.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“Mr Mason consulted me about his +son’s studies, Mrs Mason confided to me +her anxieties as the mother of a family; +and Mary—whose ardent and poetic +soul felt the need of an intellectual sympathy +which failed her in her own family—threw +into her conversation with me +an openness and vivacity which surprised +her relatives.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>Nothing of the sort surprises us. +What we were rather surprised at +was, that Mr Mason <em>père</em>, a grave +county dignitary and practical man +of business, should have taken to +his bosom, in this ardent and gushing +fashion, the most agreeable, +most intellectual, and most amiable +foreigner that ever lived. At first +we thought it a mistake—a patent +defect and improbability in an otherwise +sensible and natural book. The +author’s casual attempt to account +for it by the fact that Mr Mason was +fond of billiards and of backgammon, +and found in his new acquaintance +an idle man generally ready +to play a game, does not in the least +harmonise with the usual character +and habits of country gentlemen +past sixty, or of Mr Mason in particular. +But when we read that this +excellent individual, like so many +others of his class, has gone largely +into turnips—and that his French +visitor, wishing to know all about +English country life, and knowing +that such a life is nothing without +turnips, determined, amongst his +other travelling studies, to study an +English model farm, and, when his +host proposed a visit to that beloved +establishment, accepted the invitation +with “<em>empressement</em>,” and listened +for hours to bucolic talk with +“<i><span lang="fr">un grand interest</span></i>,”—then we no +longer wonder for an instant at the +eternal friendship which the English +member of the “Royal Agricultural” +suddenly and silently vowed to his +guest. Long and painful experience +of visits paid to these excellent people +in the country—reminiscences of +the inevitable walk over ploughed +fields—the plunging into long dark +galleries where unfortunate beasts +were immured for life to be turned +into beef, a process which should be +mercifully hidden from the eyes of +every good Christian—the yawns +unsuccessfully stifled—the remarks +answered at random—the senseless +questions desperately volunteered +out of politeness on the visitor’s +part, betraying the depth of his incapacity +and ignorance;—these must +rise before many a reader’s mind as +well as our own, and make them feel +what a treasure the scientific agriculturist +had found in the inquiring +Frenchman, who walked and talked +and listened, not only without a +complaint or a yawn, but positively +because he liked it. Enterprising +foreigners have been said to have +tried to make their way into English +country society, before now, +through the introduction of the +hunting-field, not always with success; +perhaps they may be inclined +to take a hint from this little book, +and, in quiet family cases, try the +turnips.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The visits to Mr Mason’s farm-cottages +give the traveller the opportunity +of drawing a contrast between +the habits and aspirations of agricultural +labourers in the two countries:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“That passion for becoming proprietors, +so widely spread in our own country +districts, is unknown, and probably will +long continue so, amongst the agricultural +classes in England. The example +of Ireland [it might have been added, of +Wales], where the land has been very +much subdivided, and where the population +which maintains itself on it has become +excessive, has strengthened the +opinion amongst large landed proprietors +in England as to the evil effects of small +holdings. I think I scarcely exaggerate +when I say that certainly, in the southern +counties of England, a peasant possessing +an acre of land would be a rarity. +Probably it is to this impossibility of +becoming small proprietors that we must +attribute the taste which the labouring +classes in England show for ornamenting +their houses. If a working man has saved +any money, he will employ it in buying +a set of furniture, and making his cottage +look gay; whereas, in France, he +would have laid it aside in the hope of +acquiring a bit of land; so that nothing +can be more different than the wretched +cabins of our own rural districts and the +cottage of an English labourer, with its +many little appliances of comfort and +even luxury. In general the English +peasant lives much less sparingly, and +spends upon his meal twice as much as +the French: it is true that the climate +requires a more substantial style of diet.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>These observations would have +been more strictly true if they had +been made a few years ago. Within +that time the passion for property +has sprung up not only amongst +those who call themselves “operatives” +(journeymen weavers, shoemakers, +&c.), but even, to a certain +extent, amongst farm-labourers. Recent +alterations in the laws of partnership +have encouraged what are +called “co-operative societies,” who +not only open “stores” for the sale +of all the necessaries of life, on the +joint-stock principle of division of +profits, but build cottages which, by +certain arrangements, may become +the property of the tenant. A whole +village has just been built in Yorkshire, +on this principle of the tenants +becoming eventually the landlords. +Not only this, but the same desire +for independence—an excellent feeling +in itself—is leading the same +class to purchase cottage property +whenever it comes into the market. +If this ambition to become a purchaser +were confined to a desire upon +every man’s part to feel himself +absolute master of the home he lived +in, then, whatever large proprietors +or able political economists might +have to say, it would be an object +which would deserve the very highest +respect. But, unfortunately, the +feeling is not altogether that of desiring +to live in peace under one’s +own vine and fig-tree: it is the wish +to have a tenement to let out to +others. It is comparatively seldom +that a small piece of land, suited to +the sum at such a purchaser’s command, +is thrown into the market. +Cottages, on the other hand, are +continually advertised for sale; the +working-man, eager to secure his bit +of real property, gives for them a +sum far beyond their value—a sum +which the capitalist or large proprietor +will not give; and in order +to make his purchase pay, he either +proceeds at once to divide a comfortable +dwelling into two, or raises +the rent upon his more needy tenant. +The evil consequences are twofold; +the neighbouring landowner, who +ought to have the cottages for his +own labourers, who would keep +them in good repair, and let them +at moderate rents, has been driven +out of the market; and either a +lower class of tenant, continually +changing and being “sold up,” is +introduced; or the honest labourer +is compelled to pay to this new +landlord of his own class a rent out +of all proportion to the accommodation +supplied him.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It is to be hoped that this growing +evil (for evil it is) may be met by +the increased liberality of landed +proprietors in building good and +sufficient cottages for the labourers +on their own estates. In the case +of the humbler artisans, in towns +especially, one does not see the remedy +except in the questionable +shape of legislative restrictions.</p> + +<p class='c012'>But we have almost forgotten our +foreign exile’s travelling acquaintance, +Mr Norris, the hearty and +genial English clergyman at whose +invitation he first set himself to +study English life. Before finally +taking up his quarters at Lynmere, +he has paid the promised visit to his +friend in his parsonage at Kingsford; +“a pretty Gothic <em>chateau</em>,” furnished +with the taste of a gentleman +and a scholar; a residence whose +somewhat luxurious belongings, its +ample library, and the well-chosen +prints which grace its walls, when +contrasted in the writer’s mind with +the humble abode of the French +village <i><span lang="fr">curé</span></i>, give rise to reflections +“not wholly to the disadvantage of +the latter.” We, on the other hand, +must warn any foreign reader who +may draw the contrast for himself, +that Kingsford Parsonage is a very +exceptional case indeed. Mr Norris +is discovered, somewhat to his +French visitor’s surprise, clad in +“a strange costume of white flannel,” +not altogether sacerdotal; “<i><span lang="fr">Je +suis habillé en cricketer</span></i>,” is the parson’s +explanation. The fact is, he +has just been playing cricket with +his pupils, half-a-dozen young men +in preparation for the Universities. +The simple and orderly habits of +the household, the breakfast at +eight, the dinner at one, the kindly +intercourse between the tutor and +his pupils, and the prosperity of a +well-ordered village under an energetic +pastor, are well described, and +will give our French neighbours a +very fair idea of such a life. A +little, a very little “<em>triste</em>,” our +visitor finds it, this English rural +life, with its rich green meadows +and grey sky, and slowly-winding +river, half hidden by its banks. One +needs, he considers, in order to find +happiness in such scenes, a hearty +love for simple nature, and a heart +“warmed with the sentiment of +duty fulfilled;” in short, he is of +Dr Johnson’s opinion, though he +puts it into much more complimentary +language—that “those who are +fond of the country are fit to live +in the country.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>But if we cannot allow our French +friends to imagine that all English +country clergymen have their lot +cast in the pleasant places of Kingsford +and Lynmere, still less, we +fear, must they consider them (or +their wives) such wonderful economists +as, like Mr Norris, to maintain +all the quiet elegancies of a gentleman’s +establishment in a handsome +Gothic chateau (and to travel in +Switzerland besides), upon an ecclesiastical +income scarcely exceeding, +after all necessary deductions, +two hundred pounds a-year. True, +Mr Norris takes pupils and writes +for reviews—highly respectable vocations, +and profitable enough in +some hands, but scarcely open to +the majority of his brethren, and +not safe to be depended upon, as a +supplementary income, by young +clergymen on small preferments +who may feel no vocation for celibacy. +Mr Norris, indeed, is peculiarly +favoured in many respects as +regards money matters; for he has +been fortunate enough to have enjoyed +an exhibition at Oxford in +days when the word “exhibition” +(as we are informed in a note) meant +“a gratuitous admission to the University.” +Here we are certainly +stepping out of the ground of real +English life, where the writer has so +pleasantly guided us, into a highly +imaginative state of things. It +would have been a noble boast, indeed, +for us to have made to foreigners, +if it could have been made truly, +that Oxford, out of her splendid +endowments, offered, even occasionally, +“gratuitous admissions” to +poor and deserving scholars. It +was what the best of her founders +and benefactors intended and desired—what +they thought they had +secured for ever by the most stringent +and solemn enactments; but +what, unhappily, the calm wisdom +of the University itself has been as +far from carrying out as the busy +sweeping of a Reform Commission.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The foreign visitor is naturally +very much impressed by an English +cricket-match. The puzzled admiration +which possesses him on the +occasion of his “assisting” at a +“<i><span lang="fr">fête du cricket</span></i>” is very amusingly +expressed. Throughout all his +honest admiration of the English +character, there peeps out a confession +that this one peculiar habit of +the animal is what he has failed +to account for or comprehend. He +tries to philosophise on the thing; +and, like other philosophical inquirers +when they get hold of facts +which puzzle them, he feels bound +to present his readers with a theory +of cause and effect which is evidently +as unsatisfactory to himself +as to them. He falls back for an +explanation on that tendency to +“solidarity” in the English temperament +which he has admired +before.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“The explanation of the great popularity +of the game of cricket is that, +being always a challenge between two +rival bodies, it produces emulation and +excites that spirit of party which, say +what we will, is one of the essential +stimulants of public life, since in order +to identify one’s self with one’s party one +must make a sacrifice to a certain extent +of one’s individuality. The game of +cricket requires eleven persons on each +side, and each of the players feels that +he is consolidated (<i><span lang="fr">solidaire</span></i>) with his +comrades, in defeat as well as in victory.... +That which makes the charm +of the game is, above all, the <em>solidarity</em> +which exists between the players.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>This is a very pretty theory, but +scarcely the true one. In the public-school +matches, no doubt, and in +some matches between neighbouring +villages, the <em>esprit de corps</em> goes for +much; but, as a rule, we fear the +cricketer is a much more selfish +animal. His ambition is above all +things to make a good score, and +to appear in ‘Bell’s Life’ with a +double figure to his name. Just as +the hunting man, so that he himself +can get “a good place,” cares +exceedingly little for the general +result of the day’s sport; so +the batsman at Lord’s, so long as +he makes a good innings, or the +bowler so long as he “takes wickets” +enough to make a respectable figure +on the score, thinks extremely little, +we are sorry to say, of “solidarity.” +Whether the match is won or lost +is of as little comparative importance +as whether the fox is killed +or gets away. We notice the difference, +because it is a great pity it +should be so. The Frenchman’s +principle is by far the finer one; +and the gradual increase of this intense +self-interest in the cricket-field +is going far to nullify the other +good effects of the game as a national +amusement. One reason +why the matches between the +public schools are watched with +such interest by all spectators is, +that the boys do really feel and +show that identification of one’s self +with one’s party which the author +so much respects; the Harrow captain +is really much more anxious +that Harrow should beat Eton, +than that he himself should get a +higher score than Jones or Thompson +of his own eleven; and the enthusiastic +chairing of the hero of +the day is not, as he knows, a personal +ovation to the player, as to +a mere exhibition of personal skill, +but to his having maintained the +honour of the school.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Our national ardour for this +game seems always incomprehensible +to a Frenchman. There is a +little trashy, conceited book now +before us, in which a French writer, +professing to enlighten his countrymen +upon English life, dismisses +this mysterious amusement in a definition, +the point and elegance of +which it would be a pity to spoil by +translation—“<i><span lang="fr">un exercice consistant +à se fatiguer et à donner d’autant plus +de plaisir qu’il avait fait répandre +d’autant plus de sueur</span></i>.”<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c015'><sup>[2]</sup></a> He is careful, +at the same time, to suggest +that even cricket is probably borrowed +from his own nation—the +“<em>jeu de paume</em>” of the days of the +Grand Monarque. But the inability +of so shrewd and intelligent +an observer, as the foreign spectator +with whom we have to do at present, +to comprehend the real points +of the game, is an additional testimony +to its entirely English +character. The Etonian’s mamma, +who, as he relates with a +sort of quiet wonder, sat for five +hours on two days successively on +a bench under a hot sun, to watch +the match between her son’s eleven +and Harrow, would have given a +much better account of the game. +The admiring visitor does not pretend, +as he observes, to go into the +details of a game which has thirty-eight +rules; but he endeavours to +give his French readers some general +idea of the thing, which may +suffice for unprofessional lookers-on. +It is unnecessary to say that +the idea is very general indeed. The +“consecrated” ground on which the +“<i><span lang="fr">barrières</span></i>” are erected, and where +the “<em>courses</em>” take place, are a thoroughly +French version of the affair. +The “ten fieldsmen precipitating +themselves in pursuit of the +ball when struck” would be ludicrous +enough to a cricketer’s imagination, +if the thought of the probable +consequences were not too +horrible. Even such headlong zeal +on the part of two fieldsmen only, +with their eye on the same ball, has +resulted, before now, in a collision +entailing the loss of half-a-dozen +front teeth and other disfigurements. +It was unnecessary to exaggerate +the perils of a game which, +as our author observes, has its +dangers; and if the fieldsmen at +Lynmere conducted themselves after +this headlong fashion when he +was watching them, we can quite +understand his surprise that, when +the day concludes with the inevitable +English dinner, men who had +spent the whole day “in running, +striking, and receiving blows from +the ball to the bruising of their +limbs” (and precipitating themselves +against each other) should +still show themselves disposed to +drink toasts and make speeches for +the rest of the evening. The conversation +which he has with the +parish schoolmaster, an enthusiastic +cricketer, is good in its way:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“‘I hope you have enjoyed the day?’ +said he to me. ‘You have had an opportunity +of seeing what cricket is. It’s +a noble game, is it not?’</p> + +<p class='c018'>“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘it is a fine exercise; +and I think highly of those amusements +which bring all classes together under +the influence of a common feeling.’</p> + +<p class='c018'>“‘It is not only that,’ replied the +excellent man: ‘but nothing moralises +men like cricket.’</p> + +<p class='c018'>“‘How?’ said I, rather astonished to +hear him take such high ground.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“‘Look here,’ he replied; ‘a good +cricketer is bound to be sober and not +frequent the public-house, to accustom +himself to obey, to exercise restraint +upon himself; besides, he is obliged to +have a great deal of patience, a great +deal of activity; and to receive those +blows of the ball without shrinking, requires, +I assure you, some degree of +courage.’”</p> + +<p class='c016'>We suspect that these remarks belong +of right at least as much to the +French philosopher as to the English +national schoolmaster; but they +bring forward in an amusing way +the tendency of one-ideaed philanthropists, +which the author elsewhere +notices, to attribute to their +own favourite hobby the only possible +moral regeneration of society:</p> + +<p class='c017'>“Every Englishman who is enthusiastic +in any particular cause never fails +to see in that the greatness and the glory +of his country; and in this he is quite +serious. In this way I have heard the +game of cricket held up to admiration +as one of the noblest institutions of +England, an institution which insures to +the country not only an athletic, but an +orderly and moral population. I have +seen the time when the same honour +was ascribed to horse-racing; but since +this sport has crossed the Channel, and +it has been found by experience that it +does not always preserve a country from +revolutions and <i><span lang="fr">coups d’état</span></i>, it has lost +something of its prestige in England.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>There is always some moral +panacea in the course of advertisement, +like a quack medicine, to +cure all diseases: mechanics’ institutes, +cheap literature, itinerant +lecturers, monster music-classes, +have all had their turn; and just +at present the ‘Saturday Review’ +seems to consider that the salvation +of England depends upon the +revival of prize-fighting.</p> + +<p class='c012'>We cannot follow the writer into +all the details of village institutions +and village politics, which are +sketched with excellent taste and +great correctness. It will be quite +worth while for the foreigner who +wants to get a fair notion of what +goes on here in the country—or +indeed for the English reader who +likes to see what he knows already +put into a pleasant form, all the +more amusing because the familiar +terms look odd in French—to go +with our French friend to the annual +dinner of “<i><span lang="fr">Le Club des Odd-Fellows</span></i>,” +with its accompaniment “<i><span lang="fr">de speechs, +de hurrahs, et de toasts</span></i>”—without +which, he observes, no English festival +can take place; to accompany +him in his “<i><span lang="fr">Visite au Workhouse</span></i>,” +subscribe with him to the “<i><span lang="fr">Club de +Charbon</span></i>,” or, better still, sit with +him in the village Sunday-school, +even if we cannot take the special +interest which he did (for his own +private reasons) in “<i><span lang="fr">le classe de Miss +Mary</span></i>.” Very pleasant is the picture—not +overdrawn, though certainly +taken in its most sunshiny +aspect—of the charitable intercourse +in a well-ordered country +village between rich and poor. One +form, indeed, there is of modern +educational philanthropy which the +writer notices, of the success of +which we confess to have our +doubts. The good ladies of Lynmere +set up an “<i><span lang="fr">Ecole managère</span></i>”—a +school of domestic management, +we suppose we may call it—where +the village girls were to +learn cooking and other good works. +Now a school of cookery, admirable +as it is in theory—the amount of +ignorance on that subject throughout +every county in England being +blacker than ever was figured in +educational maps—presents considerable +difficulties in actual working. +To learn to cook, it is necessary +to have food upon which to +practise. Final success, in that +art as in others, can only be the +result of a series of experimental +failures. And here was the grand +stumbling-block which presented +itself, in the case of a cooking-school +set up with the very best intentions, +under distinguished patronage, in +a country village within our own +knowledge. Some half-dozen girls, +who had left school and were candidates +for domestic service, were +caught and committed to the care +and instruction of an experienced +matron; not without some murmuring +on the part of village mothers, +who considered such apprenticeship +a waste of time,—all girls, +in their opinion, being born +cooks. From this culinary college +the neighbouring families were +to be in course of time supplied +with graduates. Great were the +expectations formed by the managers, +and by the credulous portion +of the public. There were to be no +more tough beef-steaks, no more +grumbling masters and scolding mistresses, +no more indigestion. But +this admirable undertaking split +upon a rock which its originators +had not foreseen. It had been proposed +that the village families +should in turn send dishes to be +operated upon by the pupils; but +the English village mind is not +given to experiments, culinary or +other, and preferred boiling its mutton +one day and eating it cold the +next. Then the bachelor curate, +who had a semi-official connection +with the new establishment, reading +prayers there as “chaplain and +visitor,” who was presumed to have +a healthy appetite, and was known +to have complained of the eternal +mutton-chops provided by his landlady, +was requested to undergo a +series of little dinners cooked for +him gratis. The bashful Oxonian +found it impossible to resist the +lady patronesses’ invitation, and +consented—for the good of the +institution. But it ended in the +loss to the parish of a very excellent +working parson. For a few +weeks, the experimental ragouts +and curries sent in to his lodgings +had at least the advantage of being +a change: but as the presiding matron +gradually struck out a bolder +line, and fed him with the more +ambitious efforts of her scholars, it +became too much even for clerical +patience, and he resigned his cure. +Out of delicacy to the ladies’ committee, +he gave out that it was “the +Dissenters;” but all his intimate +friends knew that it was the cooking-school.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The Rector of Lynmere is a Mr +Leslie—a clergyman of the refined +and intellectual type, intended, probably, +as an artistic contrast to Mr +Norris in his cricket flannels. He +is, we are expressly told, “an aristocrat”—indeed, +a nephew of the +Countess aforesaid. He is reserved, +nervous, and diffident, although earnest +and single-hearted. The vulgar +insolence of the Baptists at the +vestry-meetings is gall and wormwood +to him; and he suffers scarcely +less under the fussy interference +of a Madam Woodlands, one of the +parish notables, of Low-Church +views and energetic benevolence, +who patronises the church and the +rector, and holds him virtually responsible +for all the petty offences +and indecorums which disturb the +propriety of the village. This lady +is very slightly sketched, but the +outline can be filled up from many +a parish clergyman’s mental notebook. +We do not wonder that Mr +Leslie, with his shrinking sensibilities, +had as great a horror of +her as of Mr Say, the Nonconformist +agitator, who led the attack +at the church-rate meetings. Only +we would remark, that if the author +thinks that the unfitness of +the Rector of Lynmere to contend +with a body of political Dissenters, +or his want of tact in dealing with +so very excellent and troublesome a +parishioner as Mrs Woodlands, is +at all explained by his being “an +aristocrat,” he is encouraging them +in a very common and very unfortunate +mistake. It is true that it +is not pleasant for a man of cultivated +mind and refined tastes, be +he priest or layman, to be brought +into contact with opponents whose +nature and feelings, and the manner +in which they express those feelings, +are rude and vulgar; but if +he possess, in addition to his refinement +and cultivation, good sound +sense, a moderate amount of tact, +and, above all, good temper, he will +find, in the fact of his being “a +gentleman,” an immense weight of +advantage over his antagonists. We +remember to have seen protests, in +the writings of a modern school of +English Churchmen, against what +they are pleased to term “the gentleman +heresy;” representing it as +dangerous to the best interests of +both priests and people, that the +former should attempt to combine +with their sacred office the manners, +the habits, and the social position +of the gentleman. Without +entering here into the serious question +whether a special clerical caste, +as it were, standing between the +lower ranks and the higher of the +laity, distinct from both, and having +its separate habits and position, +is a desirable institution to recommend; +without discussing the other +equally important question, whether +the aristocracy of a Christian nation +have not also <em>their</em> religious +needs, and whether these also have +not a right to be consulted, and +whether they will bear to be handed +over to a priesthood which, if not +plebeian itself, is to have at least +no common interests or feelings +with the higher classes—a question, +this latter, to which history will +give us a pretty decided answer;—it +is quite enough to say that the +working-classes themselves would +be the foremost to demand—if the +case were put before them fairly—that +the ministers of religion should +be “gentlemen” in every sense of +the word. They will listen, no +doubt, with gaping mouths and +open ears, to a flow of rhodomontade +declamation from an uneducated +preacher: an inspired tinker +will fill a chapel or a village-green, +while the quiet rector goes through +the service to a half-empty church. +But inspired tinkers are rare in any +age; and it is not excitement or declamation +which go to form the +really religious life of England. +This—which we must not be supposed +to confine within the limits +of any Church establishment—depends +for its support on sources +that lie deeper and quieter than +these. In trouble, in sickness, +in temptation, these things miserably +fail. And the dealing of “a +gentleman” with these cases—a +gentleman in manners, in thoughts, +in feeling, in respect for the feelings +of others—is as distinct in +kind and in effect, as the firm but +delicate handling of the educated +surgeon (who goes to the bottom of +the matter nevertheless) differs from +the well-meant but bungling axe-and-cautery +system of our forefathers. +The poor understand this +well. They know a gentleman, and +respect him; and they will excuse +in their parish minister the absence +of some other very desirable qualities +sooner than this. The structure +of English society must change—its +gentry must forfeit their character +as a body, as they never have +done yet—before this feeling can +change. When you officer your regiments +from any other class than +their natural superiors, then you +may begin to officer your national +Church with a plebeian clergy.</p> + +<p class='c012'>There is another point connected +with the legitimate influence of the +higher classes on which the writer +speaks, we fear, either from a theory +of what ought to be, or from some +very exceptional cases:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“The offices of magistrate, of poor-law +guardian, or even of churchwarden, are +so many modes of honourable employment +offered to those who feel in themselves +some capacity for business and +some wish to be useful. It will be +understood that a considerable number +of gentlemen of independent income, retired +tradesmen, and officers not employed +on service, having thus before them +the prospect of a useful and active life, +gather round an English village, instead +of remaining buried in the great towns, +as too often is the case in our own +country.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>We fear the foreign reader will +be mistaken if he understands anything +of the sort. The county magistracy +offers, without doubt, a +position both honourable and useful; +but it is seldom open to the +classes mentioned. We do not say +that the offices of parish guardian +and churchwarden are highly attractive +objects of ambition; but +we do think that in good hands +they might become very different +from what they are; immense benefit +would result in every way to +many country parishes, if men of +the class whom the writer represents +as filling them would more +often be induced to do so, instead +of avoiding them as troublesome +and ungrateful offices, and leaving +them to be claimed by the demagogues +and busybodies of the district. +It may not be pleasant for a +gentleman to put himself in competition +for an office of this kind; +but it may be his duty to do so. +The reproach which the writer addresses +to the higher classes in +France is only too applicable to +those in England also:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“If all those whose education, whose +intelligence, whose habits of more elevated +life, give them that authority which +constitutes a true aristocracy, would but +make use of their high position to exercise +an influence for good upon public +matters—if only the honest and sensible +party in our country would shake off its +apathy and fulfil all the duties of citizens—our +institutions would have a life +and power which at present are too often +wanting.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>True words for the conservative +spirit both in the English Church +and in the English nation to lay to +heart; for, so long as education and +refinement are too nice to stain +themselves with the public dust of +the arena, they have no right to +complain if candidates, less able +but less scrupulous, parade themselves +as victors.</p> + +<p class='c012'>If our neighbours over the water +read (as we hope many of them +will) these little sketches of an +English village, drawn in their own +language, if not by one of themselves, +yet by one who is evidently +no stranger to their national sympathies, +and who writes manifestly +with the kindest feelings towards +both, it is well, perhaps, that they +should bear in mind that it is a +picture purposely taken under a +sunny aspect. Rural England is +not all Arcadia. All English landladies, +even in the country, are +not Mrs Joneses, nor are all English +families as hospitable as the +Masons. There are villages where +there is no “Miss Mary” to +teach the children or to talk sentiment. +There are less fascinating +“strangers’ guides” which could +take him into the public-houses +and the dancing-rooms as well as to +rural fêtes and lectures, and show +him what goes on there. But +while we are far from claiming to +be judged by our bright side only, +we are glad that foreigners should +see our bright side sometimes. It +has not been too often painted in +French colours; and we trust they +will give the present artist’s work +a fair hanging in their National +Gallery.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span> + <h2 class='c002'>LORD MACKENZIE’S ROMAN LAW.<a id='r3'></a><a href='#f3' class='c015'><sup>[3]</sup></a></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c016'>It has sometimes been suspected +that, in the noble delineation of the +Roman character ascribed to Anchises +in the sixth book of the +‘Æneid,’ Virgil was induced, by +unworthy motives, to depreciate unduly +the oratory of his countrymen +as compared with that of the +Greeks; and undoubtedly the inferiority +of Cicero to Demosthenes, +as a mere forensic pleader, is not so +clear or decided as to demand imperatively +from a Latin poet the +admission there unreservedly made +by the blunt and almost prosaic +expression, “Orabunt causas melius.” +Possibly, however, it was the +poet’s true object, by yielding the +most liberal concessions on other +points, to enforce the more strongly +his emphatic assertion, not merely +of the superiority of the Romans in +the arts of ordinary government, +but of their exclusive or peculiar +possession of the powers and faculties +fitted for attaining and preserving +a mighty empire. It is +certain that he has justly and vividly +described the great characteristic +of that people, and the chief source +and secret of their influence in the +history of the world, when he makes +the patriarch exclaim,—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span lang="la">Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento;</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="la">Hæ tibi erunt artes.</span>”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>In aid of the high moral and intellectual +qualities which led to +their success as the conquerors and +rulers of the world, it is most material +to notice the structure and +genius of the language in which the +Roman people expressed and embodied +their political, legislative, +and judicial determinations. Every +national language is more or less +the reflex of the national mind; +and in no instance is this correspondence +more conspicuous than +in the case we are now considering.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The Latin language is inferior to +the Greek in subtlety and refinement +of expression, and is therefore +far less adapted for metaphysical +speculation or poetical grace—for +analysing the nicer diversities of +thought, or distinguishing the minuter +shades of passion; but in +the enunciation of ethical truths +and of judicial maxims, it possesses +a clearness, force, and majesty, to +which no other form of speech can +approach. The great foundations +of law are good morals and good +sense, and these, however simple +and plain in their elements, are not +mean or common things. On the +contrary, they are susceptible of the +greatest dignity of expression when +embodied in words; and the language +in which their principles shall +be clothed may be of the utmost +importance in rendering them both +more portable in the memory and +more impressive on the heart. The +Roman jurists of the later period +of the Republic were not careless +students of the Greek philosophy; +but they used it in their juridical +writings with a wise discretion, and +in special reference to the object +of law, which is to lay down the +broad rules of human conduct and +personal rights in a form easily +understood, and capable of being +easily followed and faithfully observed +by the mass of mankind.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The unequalled talent of the Roman +people for political organisation +is evinced by the manner in +which the imperial authority was +maintained, after the personal character +of the nominal sovereigns had +degenerated to the very lowest +point of profligacy and imbecility. +Our Teutonic ancestors had the +wisdom to appreciate and adopt +much of the machinery which they +thus found in operation; and the +municipal governments, as well as +the judicial constitutions of Europe, +are at this day influenced by the +models which were thus left. The +Popedom itself, on whose probable +endurance for the future it would +be hazardous to speculate, but whose +marvellous ascendancy in time past +is beyond dispute, was little else +than an adaptation of the imperial +organisation to ecclesiastical objects. +But the influence of the Roman law +on other nations was pre-eminently +seen in the wide adoption of its +general scheme, as well as of its +special rules and maxims. Even +the law of England—of all European +systems perhaps the least indebted +to the civil law—is deeply +imbued with the Roman spirit in +some of the most important departments +of jurisprudence; and where +the authority of the Roman law +cannot claim a submissive allegiance, +it is yet listened to as the best +manifestation of the <i><span lang="la">Recta Ratio</span></i> +that can anywhere be found. The +vast experience of human transactions, +and the endless complexities +of social relations, which the Roman +empire presented, afforded the best +materials for maturing a science +which was cultivated for noble objects +by minds of the highest order, +and embodied in propositions of +unrivalled power and precision.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Independently of its influence on +individual municipal systems, the +Roman law deserves to be carefully +studied, as affording the easiest +transition, and the best introduction, +from classical and philosophical +pursuits to the technical rules +and scientific principles of general +jurisprudence. From Aristotle’s +Ethics, or from Cicero De Officiis, +the passage is plain and the ascent +gentle to the Institutes of Gaius +and Justinian; and these, again, are +the best preparation for the perusal +of Blackstone or Erskine. It ought, +indeed, to be considered as a great +privilege of the law-student that +his path lies for so great a portion +of its early way through a region +which has been rendered so pleasing +and attractive by the labours of the +eminent men whom we have now +named, and who combine so much +charm of style and correctness of +taste with so much practical wisdom +and useful philosophy.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Hitherto, we think, there has been +a great, or rather an utter, want in +this country of any good Institute +of the civil law, that could safely +and efficiently guide the student in +his early labours, or assist him in +his more advanced progress. The +elegant and admirable summary +given by Gibbon in his History, +cannot, without much comment and +expansion, be made a book of instruction; +but we feel assured that this +want which we have noticed is supplied +by the work now before us. +Lord Mackenzie’s book, though +bearing the popular and modest +title of ‘Studies in Roman Law,’ +is truly an Institute, or didactic +Exposition, of that system, where +its elements and leading principles +are laid down and illustrated as +fully as a student could require, +while a reference is made at every +step to texts and authorities, which +will enable him to extend and confirm +his views by a full examination +of original sources. The enunciation +of the legal principles is +everywhere given with great brevity, +but with remarkable clearness +and precision, and in a manner +equally pleasing and unpretending. +The comparison which is at the +same time presented between the +Roman system and the laws of +France, England, and Scotland, add +greatly to the attraction as well as +to the usefulness of the work.</p> + +<p class='c012'>At the risk of appearing to resemble +the man in Hierocles who +carried a brick about with him as +a sample of his house, we shall +here offer a few extracts in illustration +of the character of the +work and its style of execution, +premising that the passages we +have selected have reference to +topics more of a popular than of a +scientific kind.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The interest attaching at present +to questions of international law, +and to the rights of belligerents, +will recommend the passages on +those subjects which here follow:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“If all the states of Europe were to +concur in framing a general code of international +law, which should be binding +on them all, and form themselves +into a confederacy to enforce it, this +might be regarded as a positive law of +nations for Europe. But nothing of this +sort has ever been attempted. The +nearest approach to such international +legislation is the general regulations +introduced into treaties by the great +Powers of Europe, which are binding +on the contracting parties, but not on +the states that decline to accede to +them.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“To settle disputes between nations +on the principles of justice, rather than +leave them to the blind arbitrament of +war, is the primary object of the European +law of nations. When war has +broken out, it regulates the rights and +duties of belligerents, and the conduct +of neutrals.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“As the weak side of the law of nations +is the want of a supreme executive +power to enforce it, small states are exposed +to great disadvantages in disputes +with their more powerful neighbours. +But the modern political system of +Europe for the preservation of the balance +of power forms a strong barrier +against unjust aggression. When the +power of one great state can be balanced, +or kept in check, by that of another, +the independence of smaller states is in +some degree secured against both; for +neither of the great Powers will allow +its rival to add to its strength by the +conquest of the smaller states....</p> + +<p class='c018'>“By the declaration of 16th April +1856, the Congress of Paris, held after +the Crimean war, adopted four principles +of international law. 1. Privateering +is and remains abolished. 2. The +neutral flag covers the enemy’s merchandise, +with the exception of contraband +of war. 3. Neutral merchandise, +with the exception of contraband of +war, is not liable to seizure under an +enemy’s flag. 4. Blockades, in order +to be binding, must be effective; that +is to say, must be maintained by a force +really sufficient to prevent approach to +an enemy’s coast. This declaration was +signed by the plenipotentiaries of the +seven Powers who attended the Congress, +and it was accepted by nearly all +the states of the world. But the United +States of America, Spain, and Mexico, +refused their assent, because they objected +to the abolition of privateering. +So far as these Powers are concerned, +therefore, privateering—that is, the employment +of private cruisers commissioned +by the state—still remains a +perfectly legitimate mode of warfare. +Britain and the other Powers who acceded +to the declaration, are bound to +discontinue the practice in hostilities +with each other. But if we should have +the misfortune to go to war with the +United States, we should not be bound +to abstain from privateering, unless the +United States should enter into a similar +and corresponding engagement with +us....</p> + +<p class='c018'>“The freedom of commerce, to which +neutral states are entitled, does not +extend to contraband of war; but, according +to the principles laid down in +the declaration of Paris of April 1856, +it may now be said that ‘a ship at sea +is part of the soil of the country to +which it belongs,’ with the single exception +implied in the right of a belligerent +to search for contraband. What +constitutes contraband is not precisely +settled; the limits are not absolutely +the same for all Powers, and variations +occur in particular treaties; but, speaking +generally, belligerents have a right +to treat as contraband, and to capture, +all munitions of war and other articles +directly auxiliary to warlike purposes. +The neutral carrier engages in a contraband +trade when he conveys official despatches +from a person in the service of +the enemy to the enemy’s possessions; but +it has been decided that it is not illegal +for a neutral vessel to carry despatches +from the enemy to his Ambassador or his +Consul in a neutral country. The penalty +of carrying contraband is confiscation +of the illegal cargo, and sometimes +condemnation of the ship itself.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“The affair of the Trent, West Indian +mail, gave rise to an important question +of maritime law deeply affecting the +rights of neutrals. In November 1861, +Captain Wilkes, of the American war-steamer +San Jacinto, after firing a roundshot +and a shell, boarded the English +mail-packet Trent, in Old Bahama +Channel, on its passage from Havannah +to Southampton, and carried off by +force Messrs Mason and Slidell, two +Commissioners from the Confederate +States, who were taken on board as passengers +bound for England. The Commissioners +were conveyed to America, +and committed to prison; but, after a +formal requisition by Britain, declaring +the capture to be illegal, they were surrendered +by the Federal Government.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“The seizure of the Commissioners +was attempted to be justified by American +writers on two grounds: 1st, That +the Commissioners were contraband of +war, and that in carrying them the +Trent was liable to condemnation for +having committed a breach of neutrality; +2d, That, at all events, Captain +Wilkes was entitled to seize the Commissioners +either as enemies or rebels. +Both these propositions are plainly untenable....</p> + +<p class='c018'>“In an able despatch by the French. +Government to the Cabinet of Washington, +M. Thouvenel declared that the +seizure of the Commissioners in a neutral +ship, trading from a neutral port to +a neutral port, was not only contrary to +the law of nations, but a direct contravention +of the principles which the +United States had up to that time invariably +avowed and acted upon. Russia, +Austria, and Prussia officially intimated +their concurrence in that opinion.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“To argue the matter on the legal +points in opposition to the disinterested +and well-reasoned despatch of the French +Minister was a hopeless task. In an +elaborate state-paper, Mr Seward, the +American Secretary of State, professed +to rest the surrender of the Commissioners +upon a mere technicality—that +there had been no formal condemnation +of the Trent by a prize-court; but, +apart from this point of form, the seizure +was indefensible on the merits as a +flagrant violation of the law of nations; +and if the principle was not so frankly +acknowledged by Mr Seward as it ought +to have been, some allowance must be +made for a statesman who was trammelled +by the report of his colleague, +Mr Welles, the Secretary of the Navy, +approving of Captain Wilkes’s conduct, +and still more by the necessity of adopting +a policy directly contrary to the +whole current of popular opinion in the +Northern States.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>The law of marriage and of divorce +is very fully treated by Lord +Mackenzie, and the peculiarities of +the different European systems are +well pointed out. The subject, however, +is too extensive and important +to admit of being incidentally +noticed; and we shall confine our +extracts here to a single passage describing +a Roman form of cohabitation +less honourable than matrimony, +and such as we trust is never +likely, to be legalised among ourselves:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“Under Augustus, concubinage—the +permanent cohabitation of an unmarried +man with an unmarried woman—was +authorised by law. The man who had +a lawful wife could not take a concubine; +neither was any man permitted to take +as a concubine the wife of another man, +or to have more than one concubine at +the same time. A breach of these regulations +was always condemned, and fell +under the head of <em>stuprum</em>. In later +times the concubine was called <em>amica</em>. +Between persons of unequal rank concubinage +was not uncommon; and sometimes +it was resorted to by widowers +who had already lawful children and did +not wish to contract another legal marriage, +as in the cases of Vespasian, +Antoninus Pius, and M. Aurelius.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“As regards the father, the children +born in concubinage were not under his +power, and were not entitled to succeed +as children by a legal marriage; but +they had an acknowledged father, and +could demand support from him, besides +exercising other rights. As regards the +mother, their rights of succession were +as extensive as those of her lawful +children.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“Under the Christian emperors concubinage +was not favoured; but it subsisted +as a legal institution in the time +of Justinian. At last Leo the Philosopher, +Emperor of the East, in a.d. 887, +abrogated the laws which permitted +concubinage, as being contrary to religion +and public decency. ‘Why,’ said +he, ‘should you prefer a muddy pool, +when you can drink at a purer fountain?’ +The existence of this custom, +however, was long prolonged in the +West among the Franks, Lombards, and +Germans; and it is notorious that the +clergy for some time gave themselves up +to it without restraint.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>The practice of adoption prevailing +in ancient Rome is well known, +but an account of it as it is retained +in the French law may be thought +curious:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“In France the usage of adoption was +lost after the first race of kings: it disappeared, +not only in the customary +provinces, but also in the provinces +governed by the written law. Re-established +in 1792, adoption is now sanctioned +by the Civil Code. Adoption, +however, is only permitted to persons of +either sex above the age of fifty, having +neither children nor other lawful descendants, +and being at least fifteen +years older than the individual adopted. +No married person can adopt without +the consent of the other spouse. The +privilege can only be exercised in favour +of one who has been an object of the +adopter’s care for at least six years during +minority, or of one who has saved +the life of the adopter in battle, from +fire, or from drowning. In the latter +case the only restriction respecting the +age of the parties is, that the adopter +shall be older than the adopted, and +shall have attained his majority. In no +case can adoption take place before the +majority of the person proposed to be +adopted.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“The form of adoption consists of a +declaration of consent by the parties +before a justice of the peace for the place +where the adopter resides, after which +the transaction requires to be approved +of by the tribunal of first instance. After +adoption, the adopted person retains all +his rights as a member of his natural +family. He acquires no right of succession +to the property of any relation of +the adopter; but in regard to the property +of the adopter himself, he has +precisely the same rights as a child born +in marriage, even although there should +be other children born in marriage after +his adoption. The adopted takes the +name of the adopter in addition to his +own. No marriage can take place between +the adopter and the adopted, or +his descendants, and in certain other +cases specified.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“The practice of adoption, which is +better suited to some states of society +than to others, still prevails among +Eastern nations. It has never been recognised +as a legal institution in England +or Scotland.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>In ancient Rome, as at one time +in Modern Athens, there was a practice +of throwing or emptying things +out of window not without danger +or damage to the passer-by. This +was the law on that point:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“If anything was thrown from the +windows of a house near a public +thoroughfare, so as to injure any one by +its fall, the inhabitant or occupier was, +by the Roman law, bound to repair the +damage, though it might be done without +his knowledge by his family or servants, +or even by a stranger. This affords +an illustration of liability arising <i><span lang="la">quasi ex +delicto</span></i>.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“In like manner, when damage was +done to any person by a slave or an animal, +the owner might in certain circumstances +be liable for the loss, though the +mischief was done without his knowledge +and against his will; but in such a case, +if no fault was directly imputable to the +owner, he was entitled to free himself +from all responsibility by abandoning +the offending slave or animal to the person +injured, which was called <i><span lang="la">noxæ dare</span></i>. +Though these noxal actions are not +classed by Justinian under the title of +obligations <i><span lang="la">quasi ex delicto</span></i>, yet, in principle, +they evidently fall within that +category.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“All animals <i><span lang="la">feræ naturæ</span></i>, such as +lions, tigers, bears, and the like, must +be kept in a secure place to prevent them +from doing mischief; but the same vigilance +is not required in the case of animals +<i><span lang="la">mansuetæ naturæ</span></i>, the presumption +being, that no harm will arise in leaving +them at large, unless they are known to +be vicious or dangerous. So, where a +foxhound destroyed eighteen sheep belonging +to a farmer, it was decided by +the House of Lords in an appeal from +Scotland, that the owner of the dog was +not liable for the loss, there being no +evidence necessarily showing either +knowledge of the vicious propensities of +the dog or want of due care in keeping +him; and it was observed that, both +according to the English and the Scotch +law, ‘the <em>culpa</em> or negligence of the +owner is the foundation on which the +right of action against him rests.’”</p> + +<p class='c016'>The subject of succession is treated +by Lord Mackenzie in a very +ample and satisfactory discussion. +In particular, the chapter on ‘Intestate +Succession in France, England, +and Scotland’ will be found +highly useful to the international +jurist. Lord Mackenzie has not +failed to observe here the striking +peculiarity of the Scotch law, by +which, with some qualifications +very recently introduced, intestate +succession, whether in real or personal +estate, goes entirely to the +agnates or paternal relations, and +not at all to cognates or those on +the mother’s side. This was the +law of the Twelve Tables, but it +was wholly altered in process +of time, and, under Justinian’s enactments, +paternal and maternal relations +were equally favoured. In +retaining the old distinction, the +law of Scotland seems now to stand +alone. The peculiarity may perhaps +be explained by the strong +feelings of family connection or +clanship which so long prevailed in +Scotland, and which bound together +the descendants of the same paternal +ancestor by so many common +interests. But it is certainly singular +that it should have continued to +the present day with such slender +modifications; and it is no small +anomaly that, while a man may +succeed to any of his maternal relations, +none of his maternal relations +can in general succeed to him, +even in property which he may +have inherited from the mother’s +side.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The portion of the work devoted +to actions and procedure introduces +a clear light into a subject extremely +technical, and often made very obscure +by the mode in which it is +treated. We have only room for a +short extract as to the <i><span lang="la">remedium +miserabile</span></i> of Cessio Bonorum:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“The <i><span lang="la">cessio bonorum</span></i> has been adopted +in France as well as in Scotland. By +the ancient law of France, every debtor +who sought the benefit of <i><span lang="la">cessio</span></i> was obliged +by the sentence to wear in public +a green bonnet (<i><span lang="fr">bonnet vert</span></i>) furnished by +his creditors, under the penalty of being +imprisoned if he was found without it. +According to Pothier, this was intended +as a warning to all citizens to conduct +their affairs with prudence, so as to avoid +the risk of exposing themselves to such +ignominy; but he explains that in his +time, though the condition was inserted +in the sentence, it was seldom acted on +in practice, except at Bordeaux, where +it is said to have been rigidly enforced.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“Formerly, a custom somewhat similar +prevailed in Scotland. Every debtor +who obtained the benefit of <i><span lang="la">cessio</span></i> was +appointed to wear ‘the dyvour’s habit,’ +which was a coat or upper garment, half +yellow and half brown, with a cap of the +same colours. In modern times this +usage was discontinued. ‘According to +the state of public feeling, it would be +held a disgrace to the administration of +justice. It would shock the innocent; +it would render the guilty miserably +profligate.’ For a considerable time it +had become the practice in the judgment +to dispense with the dyvour’s habit, and +by the statute of Will. IV. it is utterly +abolished.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>The work concludes with a very +agreeable chapter on the Roman +bar, from which we shall borrow a +couple of passages. A certain portion +of time was generally allowed +to advocates for their speeches, but +which varied before different judges +and at different periods.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“A clepsydra was used in the tribunals +for measuring time by water, similar +in principle to the modern sand-glass. +When the judge consented to prolong +the period assigned for discussion, he +was said to give water—<i><span lang="la">dare aquam</span></i>. +‘As for myself,’ says Pliny, ‘whenever +I sit upon the bench (which is much +oftener than I appear at the bar), I always +give the advocates as much water +as they require; for I look upon it as +the height of presumption to pretend to +guess before a cause is heard what time +it will require, and to set limits to an +affair before one is acquainted with its +extent, especially as the first and most +sacred duty of a judge is patience, which, +indeed, is itself a very considerable part +of justice. But the advocate will say +many things that are useless. Granted. +Yet is it not better to hear too much +than not to hear enough? Besides, how +can you know that the things are useless +till you have heard them?’</p> + +<p class='c018'>“Marcus Aurelius, we are told, was +in the habit of giving a large measure of +water to the advocates, and even permitting +them to speak as long as they +pleased.</p> + +<p class='c018'>“By a constitution of Valentinian and +Valens, <span class='fss'>A.D.</span> 368, advocates were authorised +to speak as long as they wished, +upon condition that they should not +abuse this liberty in order to swell the +amount of their fees.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>The history of Roman practice, +and, in particular, of the Cincian +Law on the subject of advocates’ +fees, is ably condensed; and the law +of France and Scotland on the subject +is thus stated:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“In France, ancient laws and decisions, +as well as the opinions of the +doctors, allowed an action to advocates +to recover their fees; but according to +the later jurisprudence of the Parliament +of Paris, and the actual discipline of the +bar now in force, no advocate was or is +permitted to institute such an action. +In like manner barristers in England are +held to exercise a profession of an honorary +character, ‘and cannot, therefore, +maintain an action for remuneration for +what they have done, unless the employer +has expressly agreed to pay them.’ +Upon this point the authorities in the +law of Scotland are not very precise. +Lord Bankton says, ‘Though action be +competent for such gratification, advocates +who regard their character abhor +such judicial claims, and keep in their +mind the notable saying of Ulpian upon +the like occasion, <i><span lang="la">Quœdam enim tametsi +honeste accipiantur, inhoneste tamen +petuntur</span></i>.’ But it is maintained by +others, whose opinion is entitled to great +weight, that no action lies for such fees—the +presumption, in the absence of +an express paction, being, that the advocate +has ‘either been satisfied, or +agreed to serve <em>gratis</em>.’”</p> + +<p class='c016'>What the law of England is on +this most important question will +probably be definitively settled in +a <em><span lang="fr">cause <a id='t320'></a>célèbre</span></em> now depending. We +do not conceal our earnest hope +that the principles laid down in +the recent judgment of Chief-Justice +Erle will never be departed from.</p> + +<p class='c012'>We close this notice by strongly +recommending Lord Mackenzie’s +book to the notice both of the student +and the practising jurist, to +each of whom we think it indispensable.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span> + <h2 class='c002'>THE PERIPATETIC POLITICIAN—IN FLORENCE.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c016'>There is a mysterious power in +this nineteenth century before which +we all bow down and worship. Emperors +have grown powerful by its +support, and kings that know not +how to please it become the laughing-stock +of Europe. The highest +are not beyond its reach, the lowest +are not beneath its notice. The +Secretary of State spreads lengthy +despatches as peace-offerings at its +shrine, and the parish beadle is +careful not to put his hat on awry +lest he fall beneath its censure. The +idol has innumerable votaries; but +its high priests, the exponents of +its law, are the great authors and +statesmen of the day. And they +have a hard taskmaster to serve: +they must do the pleasure of their +lord before he has signified his +wishes—they must anticipate his +thoughts and be beforehand with +his commands; obsequiousness and +obedience alone will not suffice +them; they may sacrifice every +friend and every principle for his +sake, and nevertheless disgrace and +proscription await them, unless they +can know their master’s mind before +it is known to himself.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Public Opinion is the unknown +master to whom all submit; listening +anxiously but vainly for his +commands, not knowing how or +where to study his humour. There +are Houses of Parliament, newspapers, +clubs, mechanic’s institutes, +pot-houses, prayer meetings—but +which of all these speak public +opinion? A weekly gathering of +articles from daily papers is not +public opinion. Opinion after dinner +is not public. It is evidently +necessary to apply some means +specially adapted to the place and +the time in order to discover the +mood of public opinion. In Syracuse, +Dionysius constructed an ear +for the purpose; unfortunately this +invention has been lost.</p> + +<p class='c012'>In London, it is popularly said +that the only means to ascertain +public opinion is to take a seat in +the omnibus for the day and drive +continually up and down.</p> + +<p class='c012'>In Florence, public opinion walks,—it +cannot afford to drive. The people +must be studied on foot. The +reader will therefore have already +understood that the title of this +paper was chosen from necessity +and not for the sake of the alliteration; +that in order to catch a +glimpse of Italian affairs as seen +through Tuscan spectacles—in order +to enter for the moment into the +jealousies, the grievances, and the +vanities of the provincial town of +Florence—there is no resource but +that of treating the question peripatetically—that +is, of walking the +streets.</p> + +<p class='c012'>This course is the more natural +because in Florence the streets are—thanks +to the high price of +manure—remarkably clean. Accordingly +the people live in the +street; there they are to be met at +an early hour lounging along talking +or smoking, wrapped in cloaks +that take an extra twist with every +degree of cold. The street is their +assembly-room; it is frequented by +men of all sorts, as will be at once +seen by a moment’s scrutiny of the +stream of people creeping slowly +along over the pavement.</p> + +<p class='c012'>There is the commercial dandy +who affects a felt hat with mandarin +button on the crown, a knobby +stick, and a would-be English shooting-jacket. +Behind him is the +sober professional man, in a French +great-coat which has wandered from +Paris, making room for newer +fashions. There, too, is the priest +of portly figure and wasted garments, +which show at once his +devotion to the inner man, and his +neglect of the outer world, walking +along with a blessing on his lips +and a green cotton umbrella under +his arm. By his side is the peasant +come to town for the day, cart-whip +in hand, and a long coarse cloak +trailing from his shoulders, embroidered +behind with flowers in +green silk. Every stitch will show +character in one way or another. +Italians wear green flowers where +Spaniards would have crosses in +black braid.</p> + +<p class='c012'>And who is there among all this +crowd who would trouble his +thoughts about Victor Emmanuel +and his Ministers? Look at yonder +corner-wall where there is a sheet +of paper prominently pasted on a +black board: one solitary passenger +gives it a passing glance: that +is the telegram just received, announcing +the formation of the new +Ministry. But farther on there are +collected a little company of people, +whose animated and intent looks +show something really interesting +to be going on: it is that two or +three young men are practising in +chorus a snatch out of the last +street-ballad. Farther on the respective +merits of different ballet-dancers +are under discussion, and +some of the company are pronouncing +the stage-manager unfit for his +post. In the whole crowd there is +not one word, nor even a passing +thought, bestowed on the Government +which is going on at Turin. +So universal is the carelessness with +regard to the current affairs of the +day, that, as a general rule, if a man +be heard to speak about politics, or +in any way show himself conversant +with public affairs, it may at +once be concluded, more especially +if he speak in a disagreeable voice, +that that man is a Piedmontese.<a id='r4'></a><a href='#f4' class='c015'><sup>[4]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c012'>In vain do loud-voiced criers +hawk prints representing the murder +of the Gignoli family by the +Austrians in 1859; they offer them +at half-price, at quarter-price, but +find no purchasers. Even the photograph +of the bullet extracted from +Garibaldi’s foot has ceased to draw +people to the shop-window.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Leaving the street for the moment, +and turning the corner of the +great Piazza, we find under the colonnade, +opposite the picture gallery, +an anxious crowd of people, eager +and pushing. That is the entrance +to the ‘Monte di Pieta,’ or municipal +pawnbroking establishment (for +private pawnbroking is illicit in +Florence). There is a long table +before the door, and on it are spread +silver watches, coral bracelets, and +other trinkets. Articles that have +lain unredeemed are being sold at +auction. The sale is well attended, +but purchasers will not compete. +There is much examination and +very little bidding. This same +scene has occurred regularly at +stated intervals for the last several +centuries.</p> + +<p class='c012'>In the time of the Medicis, public +policy and private benevolence became +copartners in founding a +self-supporting pawnbroking shop +on a large scale, to be kept under +the supervision of Government. +To a people who, whenever they +begin to be pinched in circumstances, +try to economise but never +attempt to work, and exert themselves +rather to save than to make +money, it is no small object to have +a public pawnbroking establishment +where money is allowed at a +fixed scale. If a Florentine have a +bracelet too much, and bread too +little, he has but to give the bracelet +in pawn to the Government. +In the same way, if he be troubled +with a child too many, he proceeds +to the infant asylum, rings the bell, +and in the cradle which forthwith +opens, he deposits the child for the +Government to feed. Under the +Governments which have prevailed +in Tuscany for the last three hundred +years, this is precisely the +kind of political institution which +the Florentines have learnt to value +and appreciate.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The proper supervision of the +pawnbroking shop, the maintenance +of the foundling asylums +and the hospitals (with which +Florence is, in proportion, better +provided than London), the grant +made to the opera—these and other +such questions are the matters of +government in which a Florentine +takes interest. To politics, in +an Englishman’s sense of the word, +they pay little or no attention. In +the election of representatives to +the Chambers at Turin the people +appear to take little or no part. +For instance: M. Peruzzi, the present +Minister for the Interior, is one +of the representatives of Florence. +On accepting office he was of +course obliged to appeal to his +constituents. The seat was contested. +On the day appointed for +the election I had occasion to ask +my way to the place where it was +being held: several respectable +citizens did not know that any +election was to take place whatever. +At last one man, better informed +than the rest, had heard +something about an election that +week, but did not know where the +elections were held. The election +proved invalid for want of the +legal complement of voters—namely, +one-half the whole number. +This is the general result of +elections in Tuscany on the first +trial. The second election is valid, +provided only the same number of +voters are present as attended the +first. This is fortunate, otherwise it +might occur that there would be a +lack of representatives from Tuscany +in the Parliament at Turin.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The fact is, and it needs repetition, +the Florentines do not care +about politics. They have accepted +the revolution that was made for +them, and on the whole are well +contented with the change; at +least we ought in justice to ascribe +their general listlessness in +political affairs to contentment and +not to indifference.</p> + +<p class='c012'>To inquire, however, more exactly +into the thoughts of those +amongst the Florentines who do +think about politics, it will be as +well to obtain at once rest and information +by sitting down for a +few moments in the tobacconist’s +shop, which may be called the centre +of the political world. To begin +with, the tobacconist is always +himself by profession a finished +politician, and he, moreover, enjoys +the confidence of several distinguished +friends, who keep him accurately +informed of every word that passes +in the Cabinets of Europe. The +general burden of his conversation, +which is a fair type of the talk at +shops and second-rate cafés, is as +follows:—The Pope-king is the +father of all mischief; and how +should it be otherwise? are not +priests and kings always the promoters +of every evil? and this man +is a combination of both. Then follows +a complaint against the Emperor +Napoleon and his creatures, the +Ministers at Turin, who, like true +Piedmontese, are in secret jealous +of the greatness of Italy, and treacherously +keep in pay reactionary +employés in lieu of filling the +offices, as they should, with enterprising +liberals. This sentiment +meets with loud and general applause, +and the company, waxing +warm on this topic, forthwith +launch into various prophecies as +to the immediate future. French +wars, Polish revolutions, Austrian +bankruptcies, are all considered, +and it is weighed what each might +do for Italy. What the Italians +themselves might do is a less frequent +theme.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The Government, however, is +blamed for its neglect of Garibaldi, +which is only of a piece with its +conduct in leaving the active and +patriotic liberals of the country +without employment while they +are pensioning the reactionists—an +opinion which usually serves as +alpha and omega in the discussions +of the Florentine liberals on the +conduct of the Government.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Having exhausted this topic, our +friend the politico-tobacconist resumes +his seat, taking his scaldino +(an earthenware vessel shaped like +a basket, and filled with hot ashes) +on his lap for the comfort of his +fingers, and proceeds to draw the +attention of visitors to various piles +of newspapers, the sale of which is +part of his trade. And as Florence +produces, for a country town, a very +respectable number of papers (some +dozen daily papers, not to count +two tri-weekly papers and other +periodicals), which, moreover, have +something of a national, or rather +of a provincial character, it will be +worth while to look over them before +leaving the tobacconist’s shop. +It is not every paper that will be +found: for instance, the three retrograde +papers will not be forthcoming. +These have so extremely +small a circulation that it is very +difficult to hunt them up. It is +only by favour, for instance, that a +copy of the ‘Contemporaneo’ can +be got, for, there being no public +demand, there is no sale; a limited +number of copies only are distributed +among subscribers.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The newspapers to be found on +the counter are all liberal, but of +various shades of “colour,” as the +Italians name party opinions.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The ‘Gazzetta del Popolo,’ which +is strictly constitutional, has still +the largest circulation of any (it +prints about 3000 copies daily), +though not half what it had. Its +decline has been owing partly to +general competition, partly to its +having embraced the defence of the +late Ratazzi Ministry, which unpopular +course is said to have cost +it in a few months nearly one-fourth +of its circulation; partly, perhaps, +to its sustaining the Piedmontese, +who have not of late been growing +in the favour of the Tuscans.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The other papers are all more +“advanced,” that is, more opposed +to Government. Among these the +‘Censor’ ranks first. This is a +thoroughly Tuscan paper, and full of +quaint, provincial expressions. In +party politics it is red—a colour +which evidently finds most favour +in the eyes of the poorer citizens; +for recently it lost no less +than a fourth of its circulation by +raising its price from three to five +cents, that is, from about a farthing +and a half to a halfpenny. In its +columns, though not there only, +may be seen a catalogue of indictments +against the Piedmontese. +The Tuscans voted annexation to +Italy, it is said—not to Piedmont. +With Rome unity, without it none. +Does the unity of Italy mean the +domination of Turin? Are we to +accept from the most barbarous +portion of Italy laws which are +sent down to us written in a jargon +which cannot even be called +Italian? Tuscany is being fleeced +by men so greedy of every little +gain, that they supply all the royal +offices with paper made only in +Piedmont, in order that Piedmontese +paper-mills may reap the benefit.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It speaks well for the Piedmontese +that, with so much desire to +find fault with them, these are the +most serious charges brought forward.</p> + +<p class='c012'>In the Ratazzi Ministry the +papers lost the most fruitful theme +of declamation. The caricatures +against this Minister were endless, +representing him in every stage of +official existence, from the time +when he climbs the high ministerial +bench by the aid of a little finger +stretched out from Paris, to the +moment when he is shown hiding +his head under the folds of the +Emperor’s train.</p> + +<p class='c012'>What is said against the Italian +Government, however, is not said +in praise of the Grand-duke’s rule. +On the contrary, the Opposition +papers—those at least that have +any circulation—all lean rather towards +the “party of action,” or +the extreme Liberals. The most +prominent paper of this description +in Florence is the ‘New Europe,’ +which is republican, and makes no +mystery of its principles.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Indeed, the press is so outspoken, +and is allowed such latitude, that it +is difficult to understand for what +purpose the Government maintains +a censorship. Nevertheless, such is +the case. It is not a very effective +one. Every paper is bound to be +laid before the Reggio procurator +twenty-four hours before it is published; +but that official is so little +able to peruse them all within the +specified time, that it has frequently +happened that a paper has been +sequestrated when it was a day old, +and had been already read and forgotten. +The right of sequestration, +however, has been used pretty freely. +The ‘Censor’ was sequestrated +more than sixty times in the course +of last year, and the ‘New Europe’ +has been treated even more severely: +on one occasion it was sequestrated +for three days running.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It is, however, high time to turn +from the ideal to the material world; +that is, to leave the tobacconist and +his newspapers, and dive into the +recesses of some very dirty and narrow +little lanes where the market is +being held, in order to see whether +the prices given and the business +done prove any decline in the prosperity +of Florence since the days of +the Grand-duke.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Passing by the mountains of +vegetables piled up ornamentally +against the huge stones of the +Strozzi Palace, the reader must +pick his way carefully amidst the +accumulated masses of cabbage-stalks, +children, and other dirt +beneath, avoiding at the same time +the carcasses that hang out from +the butchers’ stalls on either side, +from poles projecting far into the +passage, and stooping every now +and then to avoid the festoons of +sausages which hang down from +above, garland-fashion, just low +enough to come in contact with the +nose of an average-sized mortal. +If by strictly observing the above +precautions he can make his way +despite all these obstacles, he will +on turning the next corner arrive +safely in front of an old woman +and a boy presiding over sundry +emblems of purgatory in the shape +of huge frying-pans fixed over +charcoal fires. The boy is ladling +a mass of tiny dainties out of +a seething black liquid, which have +an appearance as of whitebait being +fished out of the Thames. It is, +however, only an appearance; for +these are nothing more than small +cakes of chestnut-flour, by name +“sommomoli,” fried in oil, from +which they emerge copper-coloured, +sweet, nourishing, and tasteless, +costing half a centesimo, or the +twentieth part of a penny, a-piece. +The old woman is in person superintending +a still larger frying-pan, +in which are frizzling square cut +cakes, resembling Yorkshire pudding, +sometimes interspersed with +small slices of meat. These, by +name “ignochchi,” consist of nothing +less than Indian corn savoured +with hogs-lard. A penny (ten +centesimi) will purchase ten of +them—a larger quantity than most +English, or any Italian stomach +would find it convenient to dispose +of at one sitting. A step farther +on slices will be offered to the +passer-by off a huge flat cake the +colour of gingerbread, also made of +chestnut-flour, and so satisfying +that it would puzzle even an Eton +lollypop-eater to consume a penny’s +worth. There are yet other +delicacies, one especially tempting, +a kind of black-pudding or rather +black wafer. It consists of a spoonful +of hog’s blood fried in oil, and +then turned out of the pan on to a +plate, seasoned with scraped cheese, +and devoured hot, at a halfpenny +a-piece.</p> + +<p class='c012'>With street goodies at these +rates, whatever rise there may have +been in prices, it is impossible to +believe that they are of a nature to +press to any extent upon the people +at large. But take the staples of +the market; look into the baker’s +shop; weigh the loaves sold over +the counter, and the price of the +best wheaten bread will prove to +be fifteen centesimi (a penny halfpenny +a-pound)—not to mention the +sacks of maize-flour, of rice, and +of millet on the threshold.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Nevertheless the Florentine market +shows a general rise in prices, +probably attributable in part to +the increased facility for sending +the products of Tuscany, this garden +of Italy, into the adjacent provinces, +in part, although indirectly, +to increased taxation, by which is +meant not merely Government taxation, +but the municipal rates, which +have considerably increased in Florence; +for the corporation of the town, +in common with many other municipalities +and commonalties, are +availing themselves of their greater +freedom of action under the new +Government to carry out numberless +improvements, which it was +difficult to execute before on account +of the lengthy representations +which were required to be +laid before the Grand-ducal Government.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The increase of taxation consequently +is very considerable. The +“<span lang="it">tassa prediale</span>,” or property-tax, +for instance, has been increasing in +Florence since 1859 at the rate of +about one per cent every year, and +in some commonalties it is even +higher. There are men in Florence +who are now paying in taxes (local +rates and all included) exactly four +times what they paid in the Grand-duke’s +day. It is true that this increase +is not so oppressive as it +would appear, because the taxation +of Tuscany used to be extremely +light, being under fourteen shillings +per head compared with the population. +Still the cheerfulness with +which this increase has been borne +is a hopeful sign of the general +willingness of the people to support +the Italian Government. No impatience +even has been shown at +the rapidly augmenting taxes, and +this single fact deserves to be set +against a multitude of complaints +on smaller matters.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Taxation, however, probably enters +for very little in the rise of +market prices. The reason of this +increase is to be sought in local +causes. For instance, there have +been several successive bad seasons +for olives. This year the yield is +better, and the price is falling. +Wine is still very high, owing to +the grape disease. Meat is nearly +double what it was some years +since, owing, it is said, chiefly to a +drought last summer.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The rise in prices, however, has +been counterbalanced, so far as the +working population are concerned, +by a rise in wages, which has been +on the average from a Tuscan lire +to a Sardinian franc, or about 20 +per cent.</p> + +<p class='c012'>On the whole, comparing the +rise in prices with that in wages, +the real pay of the labourer would +seem to have slightly improved. +So far, therefore, as the people’s +stomachs are concerned, the comparison +is not unfavourable to the +new Government. To persons residing +at Florence on fixed incomes, +however, the increase in both instances +is unfavourable, and they +not unnaturally regard that which +is inconvenient to themselves as +ruinous to the country.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The loss of the custom of the +Court and its train, upon which so +much stress has been laid, so far +from having affected Tuscany, has +not even really affected Florence. +The amount taken on account of +the “octroi” at the gates of Florence +shows the consumption to be +on the increase.</p> + +<p class='c012'>We may therefore leave the +market with the conviction that +there is no material pressure at +work to cause discontent. Some +tradesmen really have suffered from +the absence of the Court, as the +jewellers and milliners for instance; +but trade generally has not felt the +difference.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Continuing, however, our walk +in search of public opinion, we +come, in a street not far distant, to +a real cause of complaint; and in +Tuscany, where there is a cause, +there will be no want of complaint. +There are a couple of soldiers standing +sentry before a large door, and +all around knots of countrymen +talking together in anxious expectation, +or not talking, but silently +taking leave.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The conscription is a grievance. +It is the only act of the new Government +which is generally felt +to be a hardship, and sometimes +murmured against as an injustice. +Rather more than one in every five +of the youths who this year attain +the age of twenty-one are being +drawn for the army. This is the +proportion of those taken from +their homes and sent to the depots +of different regiments, for all are +liable to military service under one +category or another. Being inscribed +and left at home, however, +is no great hardship: it is the separation +from home which is dreaded, +and therefore the numbers of the +first category in the conscription +which have alone to be considered. +This heavy conscription is something +new to the Tuscans. In the +palmy days of Grand-ducal Government, +before 1848, exemption from +military service could be obtained +for something less than £4 English; +after the Austrian occupation, the +conscription having grown severer, +the cost of exemption was about +doubled; but now it amounts to +a sum which none but the wealthy +can possibly pay.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The young conscripts, however, +become rapidly imbued with the +professional pride of their older +comrades; and it often happens +that lads, who have parted from +their home in tears, astonish their +quiet parents a few weeks after +with letters full of enthusiasm for +the Italian army. Enthusiasm on +any subject is a rare virtue in Tuscany; +and if a military life for six +years could infuse into the rising +generation some energy and some +habits of discipline, the army would +prove a more important means of +education than all the new schools +which are to be introduced.</p> + +<p class='c012'>But how is it that throughout +this perambulation of the town of +Florence we have not come across +a single sign of that touching affection +for the late Grand-duke which +has been so vividly and so often +described in England?</p> + +<p class='c012'>The truth is, that although there +is a good deal of discontent with +the present Government, there is +no regret for the last.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Of all the weak sentiments which +exist in Tuscan breasts, loyalty towards +the late Grand-duke is certainly +the very weakest.</p> + +<p class='c012'>In order, however, that the reader +may catch a glimpse of the “Codini” +(or “party of the tail,” as the following +of the late Grand-duke are +called) before they are all numbered +among the antiquities of Italy, +it will be advisable to take one +turn on the banks of the Arno in +the “Cascine,” the fashionable +walk, or “the world,” of the Florentines.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It is sunset, and the evening chill +is making itself felt—in fact, to lay +aside all romance about the Italian +climate, it is very cold. The upper +five hundred come out at dew-fall, +when everybody else goes in, apparently +for no better reason than +because everybody else does go in. +There are Russians driving in handsome +droschkes, and Americans in +livery-stable barouches of an unwieldy +magnificence. But our business +is not with these; the native +gentility of Florence is just arriving—ladies +in closely-shut broughams, +and young gentlemen, some in open +carriages, half dog-carts half phaetons; +others, less fortunate, in open +fiacres.</p> + +<p class='c012'>They drive down to the end of +the Cascine, where old beggar women +attend upon them with “scaldine” +to warm their fingers over. +There men and women alight and +promenade at a foot’s pace, despite +the cold, after which they all drive +home again.</p> + +<p class='c012'>And what can they have been +about all day before they came to +the Cascine? The masters and mistresses +have been sitting in their +respective rooms, drawing such +warmth as they might from a +stove most economically furnished +with wood; the servants have +been sitting in the antechamber, +holding their four extremities over +the hot ashes in the “brasero,” a +metal vessel something like an +English stewpan on a large scale; +for the Italian palaces are cold: +the architect may have done well, +but the mason and the carpenter +have been negligent. The walls are +joined at any angle except a right +one; the windows do not close; +the floors are diversified by sundry +undulations, so that a space is left +beneath the door, through which +light zephyrs play over the ill-carpeted +floor. Perhaps the lady +of the house has been sitting in +state to receive her friends; for +every Florentine lady is solemnly +announced as “at home” to all her +friends one day in the week, so as +to keep them out of the house all +the other six.</p> + +<p class='c012'>This is the married life in the +palace. The life of the young men, +the bachelor life of Florence, is not +a bit more active. In a word, the +life of a Florentine in easy circumstances +is a prolonged lounge. It +is not that they loiter away their +time for a few weeks, or for a few +months—for “a season,” in short—that +is done all the world over; +but the Florentines do nothing but +loiter. The most active portion of +their lives is that now before us,—the +life during the carnival. The +carnival over, the rest of the year +is spent in recruiting finances and +health for the next winter.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Lest the reader should treat this +description as exaggerated or unduly +severe, it will be best to let +the Florentines themselves describe +their own manner of living, and +give, word for word, the rules laid +down in a Florentine paper<a id='r5'></a><a href='#f5' class='c015'><sup>[5]</sup></a> for +any young gentleman who wishes +to live in holiness, peace, and happiness +(<em>sic</em>).</p> + +<p class='c012'>“On waking in the morning, +take a cup of coffee in bed; and if +you have a servant to pour it out, +mind that she be a young and +pretty one.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Then light a cigar (but not of +native tobacco; it is too bad), or, +better still, take a whiff of a pipe.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Clear your ideas by smoking, +and, little by little, have yourself +dressed by the person who undressed +you the night before.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“After writing a meaningless +letter, or reading a chapter out of +a novel, go out, weather permitting.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Should you meet a priest, a +hunchback, or a white horse, return +straightway, or a misfortune may +befall you.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“After a short turn, get back to +breakfast, and, this over, bid the +driver put to and whip up for the +Cascine.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“There go from one carriage +to the other, and talk scandal to +each lady against all the rest: this +to kill time till dinner.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“Eat enough, and drink more; +and should some wretch come to +trouble your digestion by begging +his bread, tell him a man should +work.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“At night, go to the theatre, the +club, or into society. At the theatre, +should there be a new piece, hiss it; +this will give you the reputation of +a connoisseur; should there be an +opera, try to learn an air that you +may sing at the next party; should +there be a ballet, endeavour to play +Mæcenas to some dancer, according +to the custom of the century.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“One day over, begin the next +in the same way, and so on to the +end.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>This, in sober earnest, is the life +of a Florentine noble; except that, +if rich enough, he spends all his +superfluous energy and wealth in +occasional visits to Paris. If unusually +clever, he will become a +good singer, or a judge of art—not +of pictures and statues, probably, +but of antique pots and pans. +Otherwise he has no pursuit whatever, +and his sole occupation is to +persuade himself that he is an +Adonis, and his friends that he is +as fortunate as Endymion.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Such is the stuff which the Codini +nobles are made of, and so let them +drive home in peace. These are not +the manner of men to make counter +revolutions. Brought up as boys +by a priest, within the four walls +of a palace, they have never had an +opportunity of gaining any experience +of life beyond that afforded +by the café, the theatre, and the +Court, and they feel alarmed and +annoyed to find growing up around +them a state of things in which men +will have to rank according as they +can make themselves honoured by +the people, and not according to +the smile they may catch at Court. +To this must be added, with some, +a genuine personal feeling towards +the late Grand-duke, but these are +very few; they are limited for the +most part to the courtiers, or “the +antechamber” of the Court that has +passed away, and even with them +it is no more than a feeling of patronising +friendship—nothing resembling +the loyalty of an Englishman +towards his sovereign. But +most of the regret expressed for +the late Grand-duke is nothing +more than ill-disguised disappointment +at being no longer able to cut +a figure at Court and rub shoulders +with royalty; and this is a form +of politics not altogether unknown +among our good countrymen at +Florence.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It is cruel of reactionary writers +and orators in other countries to +draw down ridicule on the harmless +and peaceful gentlemen who form +the small band of Codini at Florence, +by endeavouring to magnify +them into a counter-revolutionary +party.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The Codini at Florence would +wish for the Austrians: they have +a faint and lingering hope of a +Parisian Court at Florence, under +Prince Napoleon; but they do not +even pretend that they would move +a finger in any cause.</p> + +<p class='c012'>There are men in Tuscany, and +even gentlemen, who will work and +form themselves, let us hope, on +the stamp of Baron Ricasoli; but +these are not to be found among +the clique of the Codini at Florence.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The intelligence and energy of +the country is for Italy, and nearly +all the great names of Florence—the +names of republican celebrity, +to their honour be it said—are to +be found in the ranks of the national +party. It is true their name +is at present all that they can give +to forward the cause.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Let us hope, however, that the +ideas of ambition, and the wider +field for competition which the new +system offers, may awake in the +children now growing up in Florence +an energy which has been unknown +to their fathers for many +and many a generation. Then, perhaps, +a walk in the streets of Florence +thirty years hence will no +longer show us electors who will +not step a hundred yards out of the +way in order to attend an election. +The Florentines may, at their own +pleasure, by taking a part in their +own government and the government +of Italy, virtually terminate +that Piedmontese tutelage against +which they fret, and without which +they are not yet fit to carry out a +constitutional system.</p> + +<p class='c017'><span class='sc'>Florence</span>, <em>Feb. 2, 1863</em>.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span> + <h2 class='c002'>THE FRANK IN SCOTLAND.<a id='r6'></a><a href='#f6' class='c015'><sup>[6]</sup></a></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c016'>For the benefit of the reader +who may not have time and inclination +to work his way through two +thick volumes of research—for the +benefit also of him who might be +inclined to that adventurous task, +but desires beforehand to have +some notion of the tenor and character +of the work before he invests +in it his time and patience—we +gave, in our November Number, a +sketch of what we thought the prominent +features of the doings of +our countrymen in France, during +the long period when Scotland was +alienated from England. We now +propose to take up the other side +of the reciprocity. The two sketches +will necessarily be distinct in character, +as the material facts to which +they refer were distinct. France +was, as we have seen, the centre +round which what remained of the +civilisation of the old world lingered; +and, along with much +wretchedness among the common +people, she was of all the states of +Europe that which contained the +largest abundance of the raw material +of wealth, and consequently of +the elements by which men of enterprise +could raise themselves to +affluence and station. Scotland was +on the outskirts of those lands in +which the new civilisation of the +northern nations was slowly and +coldly ripening to a still distant +maturity. These two countries, so +unlike, were knit into a close alliance, +by a common danger inducing +them to adopt a common policy. +But, being fundamentally unlike, +their close intercourse naturally +tended, by close contact and comparison, +to bring out the specialties +of their dissimilarity.</p> + +<p class='c012'>And in nothing is this dissimilarity +more conspicuous than when +we look at the method and the +object of the Scots’ sojourn in +France, and compare them with +those which characterised the few +Frenchmen who came to us. The +ruling feature in the former side of +the reciprocity is, the profuseness +with which our countrymen domesticated +themselves in the land +of their ancient allies, and infused +new blood into theirs. There was +little to attract the Frenchman to +pitch his tent with us. As soon +almost would he have thought of +seeking his fortunes in Lapland or +Iceland. Here, therefore, we have +less to do with the fortunes of individual +adventurers than with the +national policy of the French towards +Scotland, and those who +casually came among us for the +purpose of giving it effect. Our +country had in fact been in a great +measure cleared of French names +before our intercourse with France +began, and they never reappeared, +except casually and in connection +with some special political movement. +The Norman French who +had migrated from England over +the border having, as we have seen, +rendered themselves offensive by +helping their own Norman King to +enslave Scotland, were driven away +in considerable numbers at the conclusion +of the war of independence; +and afterwards the French, though +they kept up the policy of a close +alliance with us, and gave a hearty +reception to our own adventurers, +found nothing to tempt them to +reciprocate hospitalities. Hence +the present sketch is not likely to +afford any such genial history of +national hospitality and successful +adventure as the paper devoted to +the conduct of our countrymen in +France.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The policy of our alliance against +England as the common enemy had +become a thing of pretty old standing; +many a Scot had sought his +fortune in France; and names familiar +to us now on shop-signs and +in street-directories had been found +among the dead at Poictiers, before +we have authentic account of any +Frenchmen having ventured across +the sea to visit the sterile territory +of their allies. Froissart makes a +story out of the failure of the first +attempt to send a French ambassador +here. The person selected +for the duty was the Lord of Bournazel +or Bournaseau, whose genealogy +is disentangled by M. Michel +in a learned note. He was accredited +by Charles V. in the year 1379, +and was commanded to keep such +state as might become the representative +of his august master. +Bournazel set off to embark at +Sluys, and then had to wait fifteen +days for a favourable wind. The +ambassador thought there was no +better way of beguiling the time +than a recitation among the Plat +Dutch of the splendours which he +was bound in the way of public +duty to exhibit in the sphere of his +mission. Accordingly, “during this +time he lived magnificently; and +gold and silver plate were in such +profusion in his apartments as if +he had been a prince. He had also +music to announce his dinner, and +caused to be carried before him a +sword in a scabbard richly blazoned +with his arms in gold and silver. +His servants paid well for everything. +Many of the townspeople +were much astonished at the great +state this knight lived in at home, +which he also maintained when he +went abroad.” This premature +display of his diplomatic glories +brought him into a difficulty highly +characteristic of one of the political +specialties of France at that period. +It was the time when the nobles of +the blood-royal were arrogating to +themselves alone certain prerogatives +and ceremonials distinguishing +them from the rest of the territorial +aristocracy, however high +these might be. The Duke of +Bretagne and the Count of Flanders, +who were near at hand, took +umbrage at the grand doings of +Bournazel, and sent for him through +the bailiff of Sluys. That officer, +after the manner of executive functionaries +who find themselves sufficiently +backed, made his mission +as offensive as possible, and, tapping +Bournazel on the shoulder, intimated +that he was wanted. The +great men had intended only to +rebuke him for playing a part +above his commission, but the indiscretion +of their messenger gave +Bournazel a hold which he kept +and used sagaciously. When he +found the princes who had sent for +him lounging at a window looking +into the gardens, he fell on his +knees and acknowledged himself +the prisoner of the Count of Flanders. +To take prisoner an ambassador, +and the ambassador of a +crowned king, the feudal lord of +the captor, was one of the heaviest +of offences, both against the law of +nations and the spirit of chivalry. +The Earl was not the less enraged +that he felt himself caught; and +after retorting with, “How, rascal, +do you dare to call yourself my +prisoner when I have only sent to +speak with you?” he composed himself +to the delivery of the rebuke +he had been preparing in this +fashion: “It is by such talkers +and jesters of the Parliament of +Paris and of the king’s chamber +as you, that the kingdom is governed; +and you manage the king +as you please, to do good or +evil according to your wills: there +is not a prince of the blood, however +great he may be, if he incur +your hatred, who will be listened to; +but such fellows shall yet be hanged +until the gibbets be full of them.” +Bournazel carried this pleasant announcement +and the whole transaction +to the throne, and the king +took his part, saying to those around, +“He has kept his ground well: I +would not for twenty thousand +francs it had not so happened.” +The embassy to Scotland was thus +for the time frustrated. It was +said that there were English cruisers +at hand to intercept the ambassador, +and that he himself had no great +heart for a sojourn in the wild unknown +northern land. Possibly the +fifteen days’ lording it at Sluys may +have broken in rather inconveniently +on his outfit; but the most likely +cause of the defeat of the first +French embassy to our shores was, +the necessity felt by Bournazel to +right himself at once at court, and +turn the flank of his formidable +enemies; and Froissart says, the Earl +of Flanders lay under the royal +displeasure for having, in his vain +vaunting, defeated so important a +project as the mission to the Scots.</p> + +<p class='c012'>A few years afterwards our country +received a visit, less august, it +is true, than the intended embassy, +but far more interesting. In 1384, negotiations +were exchanged near the +town of Boulogne for a permanent +peace between England and France. +The French demanded concessions +of territory which could not be +yielded, and a permanent peace, +founded on a final settlement of +pending claims, was impossible. A +truce even was at that time, however, +a very important conclusion +to conflict; it sometimes lasted for +years, being in reality a peace under +protest that each party reserved certain +claims to be kept in view when +war should again break out. Such +a truce was adjusted between England +on the one side and France on +the other—conditional on the accession +of her allies Spain and Scotland. +France kept faith magnanimously, +in ever refusing to negotiate +a separate peace or truce for herself; +but, as the way is with the +more powerful of two partners, she +was apt to take for granted that +Scotland would go with her, and +that the affair was virtually finished +by her own accession to terms.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It happened that in this instance +the Duke of Burgundy took in hand +to deal with Scotland. He had, +however, just at that moment, a +rather important piece of business, +deeply interesting to himself, on +hand. By the death of the Earl of +Flanders he succeeded to that fair +domain—an event which vastly influenced +the subsequent fate of +Europe. So busy was he in adjusting +the affairs of his succession, that +it was said he entirely overlooked +the small matter of the notification +of the truce to Scotland. Meanwhile, +there was a body of men-at-arms +in the French service at Sluys +thrown out of employment by the +truce with England, and, like other +workmen in a like position, desirous +of a job. They knew that the truce +had not yet penetrated to Scotland, +and thought a journey thither, long +and dangerous as it was, might be +a promising speculation. There +were about thirty of them, and +Froissart gives a head-roll of those +whose names he remembered, beginning +with Sir Geoffry de Charny, +Sir John de Plaissy, Sir Hugh de +Boulon, and so on. They dared not +attempt, in face of the English warships, +to land at a southern harbour, +but reached the small seaport called +by Froissart Monstres, and not unaptly +supposed by certain sage +commentators to be Montrose, since +they rode on to Dundee and thence +to Perth. They were received with +a deal of rough hospitality, and +much commended for the knightly +spirit that induced them to cross +the wide ocean to try their lances +against the common enemy of England. +Two of them were selected +to pass onto Edinburgh, and explain +their purpose at the court of Holyrood. +Here they met two of their +countrymen on a mission which +boded no good to their enterprise. +These were ambassadors from +France, come at last to notify the +truce. It was at once accepted by +the peaceable King Robert, but the +Scots lords around him were grieved +in heart at the prospect that these fine +fellows should come so far and return +without having any sport of +that highly flavoured kind which the +border wars afforded. The truce they +held had been adjusted not by Scotland +but by France; and here, as if to +contradict its sanction, were Frenchmen +themselves offering to treat it +as naught. There was, however, a +far stronger reason for overlooking +it. Just before it was completed, +but when it was known to be inevitable, +the Earls of Northumberland +and Nottingham suddenly and +secretly drew together two thousand +men-at-arms and six thousand bowmen, +with which they broke into +Scotland, and swept the country as +far as Edinburgh with more than +the usual ferocity of a border raid; +for they made it to the Scots as if +the devil had come among them, +having great wrath, for he knew +that his time was short. It was +said, even, that the French ambassadors +sent to Scotland to announce +the truce had been detained in +London to allow time for this raid +coming off effectively. “To say the +truth,” says Froissart, mildly censorious, +“the lords of England who +had been at the conference at +Bolinghen, had not acted very honourably +when they had consented +to order their men to march to +Scotland and burn the country, +knowing that a truce would speedily +be concluded: and the best excuse +they could make was, that it was +the French and not they who were +to signify such truce to the Scots.” +Smarting from this inroad, the Scots +lords, and especially the Douglases +and others on the border, were in no +humour to coincide with their peaceful +King. They desired to talk +the matter over with the representatives +of the adventurers in +some quiet place; and, for reasons +which were doubtless sufficient to +themselves, they selected for this +purpose the church of St Giles in +Edinburgh. The conference was +highly satisfactory to the adventurers, +who spurred back to Perth +to impart the secret intelligence +that though the king had accepted +the truce, the lords were no party +to it, but would immediately prepare +an expedition to avenge Nottingham +and Northumberland’s +raid. This was joyful intelligence, +though in its character rather surprising +to followers of the French +court. A force was rapidly collected, +and in a very few days the adventurers +were called to join it in +the Douglases’ lands.</p> + +<p class='c012'>So far Froissart. This affair +is not, at least to our knowledge, +mentioned in detail by any of +our own annalists writing before +the publication of his Chronicles. +Everything, however, is there +set forth so minutely, and with +so distinct and accurate a reference +to actual conditions in all +the details, that few things in history +can be less open to doubt. +Here, however, we come to a statement +inviting question, when he says +that the force collected so suddenly +by the Scots lords contained fifteen +thousand mounted men; nor can +we be quite reconciled to the statement +though their steeds were the +small mountain horses called hackneys. +The force, however, was +sufficient for its work. It found +the English border trusting to the +truce, and as little prepared for invasion +as Nottingham and Northumberland +had found Scotland. +The first object was the land of +the Percies, which the Scots, in +the laconic language of the chronicler, +“pillaged and burnt.” And so +they went onwards; and where +peasants had been peacefully tilling +the land or tending their cattle +amid the comforts of rude industry, +there the desolating host passed, +the crops were trampled down—their +owners left dead in the ashes +of their smoking huts—and a few +widows and children, fleeing for +safety and food, was all of animal +life left upon the scene. The part, +indeed, taken in it by his countrymen +was exactly after Froissart’s +own heart, since they were not +carrying out any of the political +movements of the day, nor were +they even actuated by an ambition +of conquest, but were led by the +sheer fun of the thing and the +knightly spirit of adventure to +partake in this wild raid. To the +Scots it was a substantial affair, for +they came back heavy-handed, with +droves and flocks driven before +them—possibly some of them recovered +their own.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The king had nothing to say in +his vindication touching this little +affair, save that it had occurred +without his permission, or even +knowledge. The Scots lords were +not the only persons who broke +that truce. It included the Duke +of Burgundy and his enemies, the +Low Country towns; yet his feudatory, +the Lord Destournay, taking +advantage of the defenceless condition +of Oudenarde during peace, +took it by a clever stratagem. The +Duke of Burgundy, when appealed +to, advised Destournay to abandon +his capture; but Destournay was +wilful: he had conquered the city, +and the city was his—so there was +no help for it, since the communities +were not strong enough to enforce +their rights, and Burgundy +would only demand them on paper. +What occasioned the raid of the +Scots and French to be passed over +was, however, that the Duke of +Lancaster, John of Gaunt, who had +the chief authority over the English +councils, as well as the command +over the available force, was taken +up with his own schemes on the +crown of Castile, and not inclined +to find work for the military force +of the country elsewhere. The truce, +therefore, was cordially ratified; +bygones were counted bygones; +and the French adventurers bade a +kindly farewell to their brethren-in-arms, +and crossed the seas homewards.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Driven from their course, and +landing at the Brille, they narrowly +escaped hanging at the hands of the +boorish cultivators of the swamp; +and after adventures which would +make good raw materials for several +novels, they reached Paris.</p> + +<p class='c012'>There they explained to their +own court how they found that the +great enemy of France had, at the +opposite extremity of his dominions, +a nest of fighting fiends, who +wanted only their help in munitions +of war to enable them to rush on +the vital parts of his dominions with +all the fell ferocity of men falling +on their bitterest feudal enemy. +Thus could France, having under +consideration the cost and peril of +gallying an invading army across +the Straits, by money and management, +do far more damage to the +enemy than any French invading +expedition was likely to accomplish.</p> + +<p class='c012'>In an hour which did not prove +propitious to France, a resolution +was adopted to invade England at +both ends. Even before the truce +was at an end, the forges of Henault +and Picardy were hard at work +making battle-axes; and all along +the coast, from Harfleur to Sluys, +there was busy baking of biscuits +and purveyance of provender. Early +in spring an expedition of a thousand +men-at-arms, with their followers, +put to sea under John +of Vienne, the Admiral of France, +and arrived at Leith, making a +voyage which must have been signally +prosperous, if we may judge +by the insignificance of the chief +casualty on record concerning it. +In those days, as in the present, it +appears that adventurous young +gentlemen on shipboard were apt +to attempt feats for which their +land training did not adapt them—in +nautical phrase, “to swing on all +top ropes.” A hopeful youth chose +to perform such a feat in his armour, +and with the most natural of all +results. “The knight was young +and active, and, to show his agility, +he mounted aloft by the ropes of +his ship, completely armed; but his +feet slipping he fell into the sea, +and the weight of his armour, which +sank him instantly, deprived him +of any assistance, for the ship was +soon at a distance from the place +where he had fallen.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>The expedition soon found itself +to be a mistake. In fact, to send +fighting men to Scotland was just +to supply the country with that +commodity in which it superabounded. +The great problem was +how to find food for the stalwart +sons of the soil, and arms to put in +their hands when fighting was necessary. +A percentage of the cost and +labour of the expedition, spent in +sending money or munitions of war, +would have done better service. +The scene before the adventurers +was in lamentable contrast to all +that custom had made familiar to +them. There were none of the +comfortable chateaux, the abundant +markets, the carpets, down beds, +and rich hangings which gladdened +their expeditions to the Low +Countries, whether they went as +friends or foes. Nor was the same +place for <em>them</em> in Scotland, which +the Scots so readily found in France, +where a docile submissive peasantry +only wanted vigorous and adventurous +masters. “The lords and +their men,” says Froissart, “lodged +themselves as well as they could in +Edinburgh, and those who could +not lodge there were quartered in +the different villages thereabout. +Edinburgh, notwithstanding that it +is the residence of the king, and is +the Paris of Scotland, is not such a +town as Tournay and Valenciennes, +for there are not in the whole +town four thousand houses. Several +of the French lords were therefore +obliged to take up their lodgings in +the neighbouring villages, and at +Dunfermline, Kelso, Dunbar, Dalkeith, +and in other towns.” When +they had exhausted the provender +brought with them, these children +of luxury had to endure the miseries +of sordid living, and even the +pinch of hunger. They tried to +console themselves with the reflection +that they had, at all events, an +opportunity of experiencing a phase +of life which their parents had endeavoured +theoretically to impress +upon them, in precepts to be thankful +to the Deity for the good things +which they enjoyed, but which +might not always be theirs in a +transitory world. They had been +warned by the first little band of +adventurers that Scotland was not +rich; yet the intense poverty of the +country whence so many daring +adventurers had gone over to ruffle +it with the flower of European +chivalry, astonished and appalled +them. Of the extreme and special +nature of the poverty of Scotland, +the great war against the English invaders +was the cause. It has been +estimated, indeed, by those devoted +to such questions, that Scotland did +not recover fully from the ruin +caused by that conflict until the +Union made her secure against her +ambitious neighbour. It was the +crisis referred to in that pathetic +ditty, the earliest specimen of our +lyrical poetry, when</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Away was sonse of ale and bread,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Of wine and wax, of gaming and glee;</div> + <div class='line'>Our gold was changed into lead;</div> + <div class='line in2'>Cryst borne into virginity.</div> + <div class='line'>Succour poor Scotland and remede,</div> + <div class='line in2'>That stad is in perplexity.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c012'>It is not sufficiently known how +much wealth and prosperity existed +in Scotland before King Edward +trod its soil. Berwick, the chief +commercial port, had commerce with +half the world, and bade fair to +rival Ghent, Rotterdam, and the +other great mercantile cities of the +Low Country. Antiquarians have +lately pointed to a sad and significant +testimony to the change of +times. Of the ecclesiastical remains +of Scotland, the finest are either +in the Norman, or the early English +which preceded the Edwards. +These are the buildings of a noted +and munificent people; they rival +the corresponding establishments in +England, and are in the same style +as the work of nations having +common interests and sympathies—indeed +the same architects seem +to have worked in both countries. +At the time when the Gothic architecture +of England merged into the +type called the Second Pointed, there +ceased to be corresponding specimens +in Scotland. A long period, +indeed, elapses which has handed +down to us no vestiges of church +architecture in Scotland, or only a +few too trifling to possess any distinctive +character. When works +of Gothic art begin again to arise +with the reviving wealth of the +people, they are no longer of the +English type, but follow that flamboyant +style which had been adopted +by the ecclesiastical builders of +the country with which Scotland had +most concern—her steady patron +and protector, France.<a id='r7'></a><a href='#f7' class='c015'><sup>[7]</sup></a></p> + +<p class='c012'>The poverty of the Scots proceeded +from a cause of which they +need not have been ashamed; yet, +with the reserve and pride ever +peculiar to them, they hated that +it should be seen by their allies, +and when these showed any indications +of contempt or derision, the +natives were stung to madness. +Froissart renders very picturesquely +the common talk about the strangers, +thus:—“What devil has +brought them here? or, who has +sent for them? Cannot we carry +on our wars with England without +their assistance? We shall never +do any good as long as they are +with us. Let them be told to go +back again, for we are sufficient in +Scotland to fight our own battles, +and need not their aid. We neither +understand their language nor +they ours, so that we cannot converse +together. They will very +soon cut up and destroy all we +have in this country, and will do +more harm if we allow them to +remain among us than the English +could in battle. If the English +do burn our houses, what great +matter is it to us? We can rebuild +them at little cost, for we require +only three days to do so, so that +we but have five or six poles, with +boughs to cover them.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>The French knights, accustomed +to abject submission among their +own peasantry, were loth to comprehend +the fierce independence of +the Scots common people, and were +ever irritating them into bloody +reprisals. A short sentence of +Froissart’s conveys a world of +meaning on this specialty: “Besides, +whenever their servants +went out to forage, they were indeed +permitted to load their horses +with as much as they could pack +up and carry, but they were waylaid +on their return, and villanously +beaten, robbed, and sometimes +slain, insomuch that no varlet dare +go out foraging for fear of death. +In one month the French lost upwards +of a hundred varlets; for +when three or four went out foraging, +not one returned, in such a +hideous manner were they treated.” +As we have seen, a not unusual +incident of purveying in France +was, that the husbandman was +hung up by the heels and roasted +before his own fire until he disgorged +his property. The Scots +peasantry had a decided prejudice +against such a process, and, being +accustomed to defend themselves +from all oppression, resisted even +that of their allies, to the extreme +astonishment and wrath of those +magnificent gentlemen. There is a +sweet unconsciousness in Froissart’s +indignant denunciation of the robbing +of the purveyors, which meant +the pillaged peasantry recovering +their own goods. But the chronicler +was of a thorough knightly +nature, and deemed the peasantry +of a country good for nothing but +to be used up. Hence, in his +wrath, he says: “In Scotland you +will never find a man of worth; +they are like savages, who wish not +to be acquainted with any one, and +are too envious of the good fortune +of others, and suspicious of losing +anything themselves, for their +country is very poor. When the +English make inroads thither, as +they have very frequently done, +they order their provisions, if they +wish to live, to follow close at +their backs; for nothing is to be +had in that country without great +difficulty. There is neither iron to +shoe horses, nor leather to make +harness, saddles, or bridles; all +these things come ready made from +Flanders by sea; and should these +fail, there is none to be had in the +country.” What a magnificent +contrast to such a picture is the +present relative condition of Scotland +and the Low Countries! and +yet these have not suffered any +awful reverse of fortune—they have +merely abided in stagnant respectability.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It must be remembered, in estimating +the chronicler’s pungent +remarks upon our poor ancestors, +that he was not only a worshipper +of rank and wealth, but thoroughly +English in his partialities, magnifying +the feats in arms of the great +enemies of his own country. The +records of the Scots Parliament of +1395 curiously confirm the inference +from his narrative, that the +French were oppressive purveyors, +and otherwise unobservant of the +people’s rights. An indenture, as +it is termed—the terms of a sort of +compact with the strangers—appears +among the records, conspicuous +among their other Latin and vernacular +contents as being set forth +in French, in courtesy, of course, to +the strangers. It expressly lays +down that no goods of any kind +shall be taken by force, under +pain of death, and none shall +be received without being duly +paid for—the dealers having free +access to come and go. There are +regulations, too, for suppressing +broils by competent authority, and +especially for settling questions between +persons of unequal degrees; +a remedy for the French practice, +which left the settlement entirely +with the superior. This document +is one of many showing that, in +Scotland, there were arrangements +for protecting the personal freedom +of the humbler classes, and their +rights of property, the fulness of +which is little known, because the +like did not exist in other countries, +and those who have written philosophical +treatises on the feudal system, +or on the progress of Europe +from barbarism to civilisation, have +generally lumped all the countries +of Europe together. The sense of +personal freedom seems to have +been rather stronger in Scotland +than in England; it was such as +evidently to astound the French +knights. At the end of the affair, +Froissart expresses this surprise in +his usual simple and expressive +way. After a second or third complaint +of the unreasonable condition +that his countrymen should +pay for the victuals they consumed, +he goes on, “The Scots said the +French had done them more mischief +than the English;” and when +asked in what manner, they replied, +“By riding through the corn, +oats, and barley on their march, +which they trod under foot, not +condescending to follow the roads, +for which damage they would have +a recompense before they left Scotland, +and they should neither find +vessel nor mariner who would dare +to put to sea without their permission.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Of the military events in the +short war following the arrival of +the French, an outline will be found +in the ordinary histories; but it was +attended by some conditions which +curiously bring out the specialties of +the two nations so oddly allied. One +propitiatory gift the strangers had +brought with them, which was far +more highly appreciated than their +own presence; this was a thousand +stand of accoutrements for men-at-arms. +They were of the highest excellence, +being selected out of the store +kept in the Castle of Beauté for +the use of the Parisians. When +these were distributed among the +Scots knights, who were but poorly +equipped, the chronicler, as if he +had been speaking of the prizes +at a Christmas-tree, tells how those +who were successful and got them +were greatly delighted. The Scots +did their part in their own way: +they brought together thirty thousand +men, a force that drained the +country of its available manhood. +But England had at that time nothing +to divert her arms elsewhere, +and the policy adopted was to send +northwards a force sufficient to +crush Scotland for ever. It consisted +of seven thousand mounted +men-at-arms, and sixty thousand +bow and bill men—a force from +three to four times as large as the +armies that gained the memorable +English victories in France. Of +these, Agincourt was still to come +off, but Crecy and Poictiers were +over, along with many other affairs +that might have taught the French +a lesson. The Scots, too, had suffered +two great defeats—Neville’s Cross +and Halidon Hill—since their great +national triumph. The impression +made on each country by their experiences +brought out their distinct +national characteristics. The +French knights were all ardour and +impatience; they clamoured to be +at the enemy without ascertaining +the amount or character of his +force. The wretched internal wars +of their own country had taught +them to look on the battle-field as +the arena of reason in personal conflict, +rather than the great tribunal +in which the fate of nations was +to be decided, and communities +come forth freed or enslaved.</p> + +<p class='c012'>To the Scots, on the other hand, +the affair was one of national life +or death, and they would run no +risks for distinction’s sake. Picturesque +accounts have often been +repeated of a scene where Douglas, +or some other Scots leader, brought +the Admiral to an elevated spot +whence he could see and estimate +the mighty host of England; but +the most picturesque of all the accounts +is the original by Froissart, +of which the others are parodies. +The point in national tactics brought +out by this incident is the singular +recklessness with which the French +must have been accustomed to do +battle. In total ignorance of the +force he was to oppose, and not +seeking to know aught concerning +it, the Frenchman’s voice was still +for war. When made to see with +his own eyes what he had to encounter, +he was as reluctant as his +companions to risk the issue of a +battle, but not so fertile in expedients +for carrying on the war effectively +without one. The policy +adopted was to clear the country before +the English army as it advanced, +and carry everything portable and +valuable within the recesses of the +mountain-ranges, whither the inhabitants +not fit for military service +went with their effects. A desert +being thus opened for the progress +of the invaders, they were left to +wander in it unmolested while the +Scots army went in the opposite direction, +and crossed the Border southwards. +Thus the English army found +Scotland empty—the Scots army +found England full. The one wore +itself out in a fruitless march, part +of it straggling, it was said, as far +as Aberdeen, and returned thinned +and starving, while the other was +only embarrassed by the burden of +its plunder. Much destruction there +was, doubtless, on both sides, but +it fell heaviest where there was +most to destroy, and gratified at +last in some measure the French, +who “said among themselves they +had burned in the bishoprics of +Durham and Carlisle more than the +value of all the towns in the kingdom +of Scotland.” But havoc does +not make wealth, and whether or +not the Scots knew better from experience +how to profit by such opportunities, +the French, when they +returned northward, were starving. +Their object now was to get out of +the country as fast as they could. +Froissart, with a touch of dry humour, +explains that their allies had +no objection to speed the exit of +the poorer knights, but resolved to +hold the richer and more respectable +in a sort of pawn for the damage +which the expedition had inflicted +on the common people. The +Admiral asked his good friends the +Lords Douglas and Moray to put a +stop to these demands; but these +good knights were unable to accommodate +their brethren in this little +matter, and the Admiral was obliged +to give effectual pledges from his +Government for the payment of the +creditors. There is something in +all this that seems utterly unchivalrous +and even ungenerous; but it +had been well for France had Froissart +been able to tell a like story of +her peasantry. It merely shows us +that our countrymen of that day +were of those who “knew their +rights, and, knowing, dared maintain +them;” and was but a demonstration +on a humbler, and, if you +will, more sordid shape, of the same +spirit that had swept away the +Anglo-Norman invaders. The very +first act which their chronicler +records concerning his knightly +friends, after he has exhausted his +wrath against the hard and mercenary +Scot, is thoroughly suggestive. +Some of the knights tried other +fields of adventure, “but the greater +number returned to France, and +were so poor they knew not how +to remount themselves, especially +those from Burgundy, Champagne, +Bar, and Lorraine, <em>who seized the +labouring horses wherever they found +them in the fields</em>,” so impatient +were they to regain their freedom +of action.</p> + +<p class='c012'>So ended this affair, with the aspect +of evil auspices for the alliance. +The adventurers returned “cursing +Scotland, and the hour they had set +foot there. They said they had +never suffered so much in any expedition, +and wished the King of +France would make a truce with +the English for two or three years, +and then march to Scotland and +utterly destroy it; for never had +they seen such wicked people, nor +such ignorant hypocrites and traitors.” +But the impulsive denunciation +of the disappointed adventurers +was signally obliterated in +the history of the next half-century. +Ere many more years had passed +over them, that day of awful trial +was coming when France had to +lean on the strong arm of her early +ally; and, in fact, some of the denouncers +lived to see adventurers +from the sordid land of their contempt +and hatred commanding the +armies of France, and owning her +broad lordships. It was, in fact, +just after the return of Vienne’s +expedition, that the remarkable absorption +of Scotsmen into the aristocracy +of France, referred to in our +preceding paper, began to set in.</p> + +<p class='c012'>This episode of the French expedition +to Scotland, small though +its place is in the annals of Europe, +yet merits the consideration of the +thoughtful historian, in affording a +significant example of the real causes +of the misery and degradation of +France at that time, and the wonderful +victories of the English kings. +Chivalry, courage, the love of enterprise, +high spirit in all forms, +abounded to superfluity among the +knightly orders, but received no +solid support from below. The +mounted steel-clad knights of the +period, in the highest physical condition, +afraid of nothing on the +earth or beyond it, and burning for +triumph and fame, could perform +miraculous feats of strength and +daring; but all passed off in +wasted effort and vain rivalry, when +there was wanting the bold peasantry, +who, with their buff jerkins, +and their bills and bows, or short +Scottish spears, were the real force +by which realms were held or +gained.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The next affair in which M. +Michel notes his countrymen as +present among us, was a very peculiar +and exceptional one, with features +only too like those which were +such a scandal to the social condition +of France. It was that great +battle or tournament on the North +Inch of Perth, where opposite Highland +factions, called the clan Quhele +and clan Chattan, were pitted +against each other, thirty to thirty—an +affair, the darker colours of +which are lighted up by the eccentric +movements of the Gow Chrom, +or bandy-legged smith of Perth, +who took the place of a defaulter +in one of the ranks, to prevent the +spectacle of the day from being +spoilt. That such a contest should +have been organised to take +place in the presence of the king +and court, under solemnities and +regulations like some important +ordeal, has driven historical speculators +to discover what deep policy +for the pacification or subjugation +of the Highlands lay behind it. +The feature that gives it a place in +M. Michel’s book, is the briefest +possible notification by one of the +chroniclers, that a large number +of Frenchmen and other strangers +were present at the spectacle. This +draws us back from the mysterious +arcana of political intrigue to find +a mere showy pageant, got up to +enliven the hours of idle mirth—an +act, in short, of royal hospitality—a +show cunningly adapted to the +tastes of the age, yet having withal +the freshness of originality, being a +renaissance kind of combination of +the gladiatorial conflict of the Roman +circus with the tournament of +chivalry. The Highlanders were, in +fact, the human raw material which +a king of Scots could in that +day employ, so far as their nature +suited, for the use or the amusement +of his guests. Them, and +them only among his subjects, could +he use as the Empire used the +Transalpine barbarian—“butchered +to make a Roman holiday.” The +treatment of the Celt is the blot in +that period of our history. Never +in later times has the Red Indian or +Australian native been more the +hunted wild beast to the emigrant +settler, than the Highlander was to +his neighbour the Lowlander. True, +he was not easily got at, and, when +reached, he was found to have tusks. +They were a people never permitted +to be at rest from external assault; +yet such was their nature that, instead +of being pressed by a common +cause into compact union, they +were divided into communities that +hated each other almost more bitterly +than the common enemy. This +internal animosity has suggested +that the king wanted two factions +to exterminate each other as it were +symbolically, and accept the result +of a combat between two bodies of +chosen champions, as if there had +been an actual stricken field, with +all the able-bodied men on both +sides engaged in it. It was quite +safe to calculate that when the representatives +of the two contending +factions were set face to face on the +green sward, they would fly at each +other’s throats, and afford in an +abundant manner to the audience +whatever delectation might arise +from an intensely bloody struggle. +But, on the other hand, to expect the +Highlanders to be fools enough to +accept this sort of symbolical extinction +of their quarrel was too +preposterous a deduction for any +practical statesman. They had no +notion of leaving important issues +to the event of single combat, or +any of the other preposterous rules +of chivalry, but slew their enemies +where they could, and preferred +doing so secretly, and without risk +to themselves, when that was practicable.</p> + +<p class='c012'>As we read on the history of the +two countries, France and Scotland, +we shall find the national friendship +which had arisen in their common +adversity gradually and almost +insensibly changing its character. +The strong current of migration +from Scotland which had +set in during the latter period of +the hundred years’ war stopped almost +abruptly. Scotsmen were still +hired as soldiers—sometimes got +other appointments—and, generally +speaking, were received with hospitality; +but in Louis XI.’s +reign, the time had passed when +they were accepted in the mass as a +valuable contribution to the aristocracy +of France, and forthwith invested +with titles and domains. +The families that had thus settled +down remembered the traditions of +their origin, but had no concern +with Scotland, and were thoroughly +French, nationally and socially. +France, too, was aggregating into a +compact nationality, to which her +sons could attach themselves with +some thrill of patriotic pride. She +made a great stride onward both in +nationality and prosperity during +the reign of that hard, greedy, penurious, +crafty, superstitious hypocrite, +Louis XI. By a sort of slow +corroding process he ate out, bit +by bit, the powers and tyrannies +that lay between his own and the +people. Blood, even the nearest, +was to him nowise thicker than +water, so he did not, like his predecessors, +let royal relations pick up +what territorial feudatories dropped; +he took all to himself, and, taking +it to himself, it became that French +empire which was to be inherited +by Francis I., Louis XIV., and +even the Napoleons; for he seems +to have had the principal hand in +jointing and fitting in the subordinate +machinery of that centralisation +which proved compact enough +in its details to be put together +again after the smash of the Revolution, +and which has proved itself +as yet the only system under which +France can flourish.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Scotland was, at the same time, +rising under a faint sunshine of +prosperity—a sort of reflection of +that enjoyed by France. The connection +of the poor with the rich +country was becoming ever more +close, but at the same time it was +acquiring an unwholesome character. +The two could not fuse into +each other as England and Scotland +did; and, for all the pride of the +Scots, and their strong hold over +France, as the advanced-guard +mounted upon England, the connection +could not but lapse into a +sort of clientage—the great nation +being the patron, the small nation +the dependant. Whether for good +or evil, France infused into Scotland +her own institutions, which, +being those of the Roman Empire, as +practised throughout the Christian +nations of the Continent, made +Scotsmen free of those elements of +social communion, that <i><span lang="la">amitas gentium</span></i>, +from which England excluded +herself in sulky pride. This is visible, +or rather audible, at the present +day, in the Greek and Latin of the +Scotsmen of the old school, who can +make themselves understood all over +the world; while the English pronunciation, +differing from that of +the nations which have preserved +the chief deposits of the classic languages +in their own, must as assuredly +differ from the way in which +these were originally spoken. The +Englishman disdained the universal +Justinian jurisprudence, and would +be a law unto himself, which he +called, with an affectation of humility, +“The Common Law.” It is full, +no doubt, of patches taken out of the +‘Corpus Juris,’ but, far from their +source being acknowledged, the civilians +are never spoken of by the +common lawyers but to be railed at +and denounced; and when great +draughts on the Roman system were +found absolutely necessary to keep +the machine of justice in motion, +these were entirely elbowed out of +the way by common law, and had +to form themselves into a separate +machinery of their own, called +Equity. Scotland, on the other +hand, received implicitly from her +leader in civilisation the great body +of the civil law, as collected and +arranged by the most laborious of +all labouring editors, Denis Godefroi. +We brought over also an exact +facsimile of the French system of +public prosecution for crime, from +the great state officer at the head of +the system to the Procureurs du +Roi. It is still in full practice and +eminently useful; but it is an arrangement +that, to be entirely beneficial, +needs to be surrounded by constitutional +safeguards; and though +there has been much pressure of +late to establish it in England, one +cannot be surprised that it was +looked askance at while the great +struggles for fixing the constitution +were in progress.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The practice of the long-forgotten +States-General of France was an +object of rather anxious inquiry at +the reassembling of that body in +1789, after they had been some four +centuries and a half in a state of adjournment +or dissolution. The investigations +thus occasioned brought +out many peculiarities which were +in practical observance in Scotland +down to the Union. All the world +has read of that awful crisis arising +out of the question whether the +Estates should vote collectively or +separately. Had the question remained +within the bounds of reason +and regulation, instead of being virtually +at the issue of the sword, +much instructive precedent would +have been obtained for its settlement +by an examination of the proceedings +of that Parliament of Scotland +which adjusted the Union—an +exciting matter also, yet, to the credit +of our country, discussed with +perfect order, and obedience to rules +of practice which, derived from the +custom of the old States-General of +France, were rendered pliant and +adaptable by such a long series of +practical adaptations as the country +of their nativity was not permitted +to witness.</p> + +<p class='c012'>There was a very distinct adaptation +of another French institution of +later origin, when the Court of Session +was established in 1533. Before +that, the king’s justices administered +the law somewhat as in +England, but there was an appeal +to Parliament; and as that body did +its judicial work by committees, +these became virtually the supreme +courts of the realm. If the reader +wants to have assurance that there +is something really sound in this information, +by receiving it in the current +coin of its appropriate technicalities, +let him commit to memory +that the chief standing committee +was named that of the <i><span lang="la">Domini auditorii +ad querelas</span></i>. When he uses +that term, nobody will question the +accuracy of what he says. The Court +of Session, established to supersede +this kind of tribunal, was exactly +a French parliament—a body exercising +appellate judicial functions, +along with a few others of a legislative +character—few in this country, +but in France sufficiently extensive +to render the assembling of the +proper Parliament of the land and +the States-General unnecessary for +all regal purposes.</p> + +<p class='c012'>In other institutions—the universities, +for instance—we find not +merely the influence of French example, +but an absolute importation +of the whole French structure and +discipline. The University of King’s +College in Aberdeen was constructed +on the model of the great University +of Paris. Its founder, Bishop +Elphinston, had taught there for +many years; so had its first principal, +Hector Boece, the most garrulous +and credulous of historians. +The transition from the Paris to the +Aberdeen of that day, must have +been a descent not to be estimated +by the present relative condition +of the two places; and one cannot +be surprised to find Hector +saying that he was seduced northwards +by gifts and promises. It +is probable that we would find +fewer actual living remnants of the +old institution in Paris itself than +in the northern imitation. There +may be yet found the offices of regent +and censor, for the qualities +of which one must search in the +mighty folios of <cite>Bullæus</cite>. There +survives the division into nations—the +type of the unlimited +hospitality of the university as a +place where people of all nations +assembled to drink at the fountain +of knowledge. There also the youth +who flashes forth, for the first time, +in his scarlet plumage, is called a +<i><span lang="la">bejeant</span></i>, not conscious, perhaps, that +the term was used to the first-session +students of the French universities +hundreds of years ago, and that it +is derived by the learned from <i><span lang="fr">bec +jaune</span></i>, or yellow nib. If the reader +is of a sentimentally domestic turn, +he may find in the term the conception +of an <em>alma mater</em>, shielding the +innocent brood from surrounding +dangers; and if he be knowing and +sarcastic, he may suppose it to refer +to a rawness and amenability to be +trotted out, expressed in the present +day by the synonymous <em>freshman</em> +and <em>greenhorn</em>.</p> + +<p class='c012'>There is a still more distinct +stamp of a French type, in the +architecture of our country, so entirely +separate from the English +style, in the flamboyant Gothic of +the churches, and the rocket-topped +turrets of the castles; but on this +specialty we shall not here enlarge, +having, in some measure, examined +it several years ago.<a id='r8'></a><a href='#f8' class='c015'><sup>[8]</sup></a> It was not +likely that all these, with many +other practices, should be imported +into the nation, however gradually, +without the people having a consciousness +that they were foreign. +They were not established without +the aid of men, showing, by their +air and ways, that they and their +practices were alike alien. He, +however, who gave the first flagrant +offence, in that way, to the national +feeling, was a descendant of one of +the emigrant Scots of the fifteenth +century, and by blood and rank +closely allied to the Scottish throne, +although every inch a Frenchman.</p> + +<p class='c012'>To watch in history the action +and counteraction of opposing +forces which have developed some +grand result, yet by a slight and +not improbable impulse the other +way might have borne towards an +opposite conclusion equally momentous, +is an interesting task, +with something in it of the excitement +of the chase. In pursuing +the traces which bring Scotland +back to her English kindred, and +saved her from a permanent annexation +to France, the arrival of John +Duke of Albany in Scotland, in +1515, is a critical turning-point. +Already had the seed of the union +with England been planted when +James IV. got for a wife the +daughter of Henry VII. Under +the portrait of this sagacious king, +Bacon wrote the mysterious motto—<i><span lang="la">Cor +regis inscrutabile</span></i>. It would +serve pleasantly to lighten up and +relieve a hard and selfish reputation, +if one could figure him, in the +depths of his own heart, assuring +himself of having entered in the +books of fate a stroke of policy that +at some date, however distant, was +destined to appease the long bloody +contest of two rival nations, and +unite them into a compact and +mighty empire. The prospects of +such a consummation were at first +anything but encouraging. The old +love broke in counteracting the +prudential policy; and, indeed, +never did besotted lover abandon +himself to wilder folly than +James IV., when, at the bidding of +Anne of France as the lady of his +chivalrous worship, he resolved to +be her true knight, and take three +steps into English ground. When +a chivalrous freak, backed by a few +political irritations scarce less important, +strewed the moor of +Flodden with the flower of the +land, it was time for Scotland to +think over the rationality of this +distant alliance, which deepened and +perpetuated her feud with her close +neighbour of kindred blood. Well +for him, the good, easy, frank, chivalrous +monarch, that he was buried +in the ruin he had made, and saw +not the misery of a desolated nation. +Of the totally alien object +for which all the mischief had been +done, there was immediate evidence +in various shapes. One curious little +item of it is brought out by certain +researches of M. Michel, which have +also a significant bearing on the +conflict between the secular and +the papal power in the disposal of +benefices. The Pope, Julius II., +was anxious to gain over to his +interest Mathew Lang, bishop of +Gorz, and secretary to the Emperor +Maximilian, who was called to +Rome and blessed by the vision of +a cardinal’s hat, and the papal influence +in the first high promotion +that might open. The archbishopric +of Bourges became vacant. The +chapter elected one of our old +friends of the Scots emigrant +families, Guillaume de Monypeny, +brother of the Lord of Concressault; +but the King, Louis XII., at +first stood out for Brillac, bishop +of Orleans, resisted by the chapter. +The bishop of Gorz then +came forward with a force sufficient +to sweep away both candidates. +He was favoured of the +Pope: his own master, Maximilian, +desired for his secretary this foreign +benefice, which would cost himself +nothing; and Louis found somehow +that the bishop was as much his +own humble servant as the Emperor’s. +No effect of causes sufficient +seemed in this world more +assured than that Mathew Lang, +bishop of Gorz, should also be +archbishop of Bourges; but the +fortune of war rendered it before +his collation less important to have +the bishop of Gorz in the archiepiscopate +than another person. The +King laid his hand again on the +chapter, and required them to postulate +one whose name and condition +must have seemed somewhat +strange to them—Andrew Forman, +bishop of Moray, in the north of +Scotland. There are reasons for +all things. Forman was ambassador +from Scotland to France, and +thus had opportunities of private +communication with James IV. and +Louis XII. This latter, in a letter +to the Chapter of Bourges, explains +his signal obligations to Forman +for having seconded the allurements +of the Queen, and instigated +the King of Scots to make war +against England, explaining how +<i><span lang="fr">icelui, Roy d’Escosse s’est ouvertement +declaré vouloir tenir nostre party et +faire la guerre actuellement contre le +Roy d’Angleterre</span></i>. Lest the chapter +should doubt the accuracy of this +statement of the services performed +to France by Forman, the King +sent them <i><span lang="fr">le double des lectres que +le dict Roy d’Escosse nous a escriptes +et aussi de la defiance q’il a fait +au dict Roy d’Angleterre</span></i>. The King +pleaded hard with the chapter to +postulate Forman, representing that +they could not find a better means +of securing his own countenance and +protection. The Scotsman backed +this royal appeal by a persuasive +letter, which he signed Andrè, +<i><span lang="fr">Arcevesque de Bourges et Evesque de +Morray</span></i>. Influence was brought to +bear on the Pope himself, and he +declared his leaning in favour of +Forman. The members of the +chapter, who had been knocked +about past endurance in the affair +of the archbishopric from first to +last, threatened resistance and martyrdom; +but the pressure of the +powers combined against them +brought them to reason, and Forman +entered Bourges in archiepiscopal +triumph. But the ups and +downs of the affair were as yet by +no means at an end. That great +pontiff, who never forgot that the +head of the Church was a temporal +prince, Leo X., had just ascended +the throne, and found that it +would be convenient to have this +archbishopric of Bourges for his +nephew, Cardinal Abo. By good +luck the see of St Andrews, the +primacy of Scotland, was then vacant, +and was given as an equivalent +for the French dignity. Such +a promotion was a symbolically appropriate +reward for the services of +Forman; his predecessor fell at +Flodden, and thus, in his services +to the King of France, he had +made a vacancy for himself. He +had for some time in his pocket, +afraid to show it, the Pope’s bull +appointing him Archbishop of St +Andrews and Primate of Scotland. +This was a direct act of interference +contrary to law and custom, since +the function of the Pope was only +to collate or confirm, as ecclesiastical +superior, the choice made by +the local authorities. These had +their favourite for the appointment, +Prior Hepburn, who showed his +earnestness in his own cause by +taking and holding the Castle of +St Andrews. A contest of mingled +ecclesiastical and civil elements, too +complex to be disentangled, followed; +but in the end Forman +triumphed, having on his side the +efforts of the King of France and +his servant Albany, with the Pope’s +sense of justice. The rewards of +this highly endowed divine were +the measure alike of his services to +France and of his injuries to Scotland. +He held, by the way, <em>in commendam</em>, +a benefice in England; +and as he had a good deal of diplomatic +business with Henry VIII., +it may not uncharitably be supposed +that he sought to feather his +hat with English as well as French +plumage. It was in the midst of +these affairs, which were bringing +out the dangerous and disastrous +elements in the French alliance, +that Albany arrived.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Albany’s father, the younger brother +of James III., had lived long +in France, got great lordships there, +and thoroughly assimilated himself +to the Continental system. He married +Anne de la Tour, daughter of +the Count of Auvergne and Boulogne, +of a half princely family, +which became afterwards conspicuous +by producing Marshal Turenne, +and at a later period the eccentric +grenadier, Latour d’Auvergne, who, +in homage to republican principles, +would not leave the subaltern ranks +in Napoleon’s army, and became +more conspicuous by remaining +there than many who escaped from +that level to acquire wealth and +power. The sister of Anne de la +Tour married Lorenzo de Medici, +Duke of Urbino. From this connection +Albany was the uncle of Catherine +de Medici, the renowned Queen +of France, and, in fact, was the nearest +relative, who, as folks used to +say in this country, “gave her away” +to Henry II. On this occasion he +got a cardinal’s hat for Philip de +la Chambre, his mother’s son by +a second marriage. He lived thoroughly +in the midst of the Continental +royalties of the day, and +had the sort of repute among them +that may be acquired by a man +of great influence and connection, +whose capacity has never been tried +by any piece of critical business—a +repute that comes to persons in a +certain position by a sort of process +of gravitation. Brave he seems to +have been, like all his race, and he +sometimes held even important commands. +He accompanied his friend, +Francis I., in his unfortunate raid +into Italy in 1525, and was fortunately +and honourably clear of +that bad business, the battle of +Pavia, by being then in command of +a detachment sent against Naples.</p> + +<p class='c012'>There are men who, when they +shift their place and function, can +assimilate themselves to the changed +conditions around them—who can +find themselves surrounded by unwonted +customs and ways, and yet +accept the condition that the men +who follow these are pursuing the +normal condition of their being, +and must be left to do so in peace, +otherwise harm will come of it; +and in this faculty consists the instinct +which enables men to govern +races alien to their own. Albany +did not possess it. He appears to +have been ignorant of the language +of Scotland, and to have thought +or rather felt that, wherever he was, +all should be the same as in the +midst of Italian and French courtiers; +and if it were not so, something +was wrong, and should be +put right. It was then the commencement +of a very luxurious age +in France—an age of rich and showy +costumes, of curls, perfumes, cosmetics, +and pet spaniels—and Albany +was the leader of fashion in +all such things. It is needless to +say how powerfully all this contrasted +with rough Scotland—what +a shocking set of barbarians he +found himself thrown among—how +contemptible to the rugged Scots +nobles was the effeminate Oriental +luxury of the little court he imported +from Paris, shifted northwards +as some wealthy luxurious +sportsman takes a detachment from +his stable, kennel, and servants’ +hall, to a bothy in the Highlands.</p> + +<p class='c012'>He arrived, however, in a sort of +sunshine. At that calamitous moment +the nearest relation of the +infant king, a practised statesman, +was heartily welcome. He brought +a small rather brilliant fleet with +him, which was dignified by his +high office as Admiral of France; +he brought also some money and +valuable trifles, which were not inacceptable. +Wood, in his ‘Peerage,’ +tells us that “The peers and chiefs +crowded to his presence: his exotic +elegance of manners, his condescension, +affability, and courtesy of demeanour, +won all hearts.” If so, +these were not long retained. He +came, indeed, just before some +tangible object was wanted against +which to direct the first sulky +feelings of the country towards +France; and he served the purpose +exactly, for his own handiwork +was the cause of that feeling. +In a new treaty between France +and England, in which he bore a +great if not the chief part, Scotland +was for the first time treated as a +needy and troublesome hanger-on +of France. Instead of the old courtesy, +which made Scotland, nominally +at least, an independent party +to the treaty, it was made directly +by France, but Scotland was comprehended +in it, with a warning +that if there were any of the old raids +across the Border, giving trouble as +they had so often done, the Scots +should forfeit their part in the treaty. +This patronage during good behaviour +roused the old pride, and was +one of many symptoms that Albany +had come to them less as the representative +of their own independent +line of kings, than as the administrator +of a distant province of the +French empire. The humiliation +was all the more bitter from the +deep resentments that burned in +the people’s hearts after the defeat +of Flodden, and it was with difficulty +that the Estates brought themselves +to say that, though Scotland +believed herself able single-handed +to avenge her losses, yet, out of +respect for the old friendship of +France, the country would consent +to peace with England.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Setting to work after the manner +of one possessed of the same supreme +authority as the King of +France, Albany began his government +with an air of rigour, insomuch +that the common historians +speak of him as having resolved to +suppress the turbulent spirit of the +age, and assert the supremacy of +law and order. He thus incurred +the reputation of a grasping tyrant. +The infant brother of the king died +suddenly; his mother said Albany +had poisoned the child, and people +shuddered for his brother, now +standing alone between the Regent +and the throne, and talked ominously +of the manner in which +Richard III. of England was popularly +believed to have achieved +the crown by murdering his +nephews. It is from this period +that we may date the rise of +a really English party in Scotland—a +party who feared the designs +of the French, and who +thought that, after having for two +hundred years maintained her independence, +Scotland might with +fair honour be combined with the +country nearest to her and likest +in blood, should the succession to +both fall to one prince, and that it +would be judicious to adjust the +royal alliances in such a manner +as to bring that to pass. Such +thoughts were in the mean time +somewhat counteracted by the lightheaded +doings of her who was the +nation’s present tie to England—the +Queen-Dowager—whose grotesque +and flagrant love-affairs are +an amusing episode, especially to +those who love the flavour of ancient +scandal; while all gracious +thoughts that turned themselves +towards England were met in the +teeth by the insults and injuries +which her savage brother, Henry +VIII., continued to pile upon the +country.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Up to this point it does not +happen to us to have noted instances +of offices of emolument in +Scotland given to Frenchmen, and +the fuss made about one instance +of the kind leads to the supposition +that they must have been rare. +Dunbar the poet, who was in priest’s +orders, was exceedingly clamorous +in prose and in verse—in the serious +and in the comic vein—for preferment. +Perhaps he was the kind +of person whom it is as difficult to +prefer in the Church as it was to +make either Swift or Sydney Smith +a bishop. His indignation was greatly +roused by the appointment of a +foreigner whom he deemed beset by +his own special failings, but in far +greater intensity, to the abbacy of +Tungland; and he committed his +griefs to a satirical poem, called +‘The fenyet Freir of Tungland.’ +The object of this poem has been +set down by historians as an Italian, +but M. Michel indicates him as a +countryman of his own, by the +name of Jean Damien. He is called +a charlatan, quack, and mountebank, +and might, perhaps, with equal accuracy, +be called a devotee of natural +science, who speculated ingeniously +and experimented boldly. He was +in search of the philosopher’s stone, +and believed himself to be so close +on its discovery that he ventured to +embark the money of King James +IV., and such other persons as participated +in his own faith, in the +adventure to realise the discovery, +and saturate all the partners in +riches indefinite. This was a speculation +of a kind in which many +men of that age indulged; and +they were men not differing from +others except in their scientific attainments, +adventurous propensities, +and sanguine temperaments. +The class still exists among us, +though dealing rather in iron than +gold; as if we had in the history +of speculation, from the alchemists +down to Capel Court, something that +has been prophesied in that beautiful +mythological sequence liked so +much at all schools, beginning—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“<span lang="la">Aurea prima sata est ætas, quæ vindice nullo</span></div> + <div class='line'><span lang="la">Sponte sua sine lege fidem rectumque colebat.</span>”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c014'>It might be a fair question whether +the stranger’s science is so obsolete +as the style of literature in which +he is attacked, since Dunbar’s satirical +poem, among other minor indications +of a character unsuited to +the higher offices in the Christian +ministry, insinuates that the adventurer +committed several murders; +and although, the charge is +made in a sort of rough jocularity, +the force of it does not by any +means rest on its absurdity and incredibility. +He was accused of a +mad project for extracting gold +from the Wanlockhead Hills, in +Dumfriesshire, which cannot be utterly +scorned in the present day, +since gold has actually been extracted +from them, though, the process +has not returned twenty shillings +to the pound. This curious +creature completed his absurdities +by the construction of a pair of +wings, with which he was to take a +delightful aerial excursion to his +native country. He proved his +sincerity by starting in full feather +from Stirling Castle. In such affairs +it is, as Madame du Deffaud +said about that walk taken by St +Denis round Paris with his own +head for a burden, <i><span lang="fr">le premier pas +qui coute</span></i>. The poor adventurer +tumbled at once, and was picked +up with a broken thigh-bone. Such +is the only Frenchman who became +conspicuous before Albany’s time as +holding rank and office in Scotland.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Albany had not long rubbed on +with the Scots Estates when he +found that he really must go to +Paris, and as there seems to have +been no business concerning Scotland +that he could transact there, +an uncontrollable yearning to be +once more in his own gay world is +the only motive we can find for +his trip. The Estates of Scotland +were in a surly humour, and not +much inclined to allow him his +holidays. They appointed a council +of regency to act for him. He, +however, as if he knew nothing +about the constitutional arrangements +in Scotland, appointed a sort +of representative, who cannot have +known more about the condition +and constitution of Scotland than +his constituent, though he had +been one of the illustrious guests +present at the marriage of James +IV. He was called by Pitscottie +‘Monsieur Tilliebattie,’ but his full +name was Antoine d’Arces de la +Bastie, and he had been nicknamed +or distinguished, as the case might +be, as the Chevalier Blanc, or White +Knight, like the celebrated Joannes +Corvinus, the Knight of Wallachia, +whose son became king of Hungary. +M. Michel calls him the +“<i><span lang="fr">chivalresque et brillant La Bastie, +chez qui le guerrier et l’homme +d’état etaient encore supérieurs au +champion des tournois</span></i>.” He was a +sort of fanatic for the old principle +of chivalry, then beginning to disappear +before the breath of free +inquiry, and the active useful pursuits +it was inspiring. M. Michel +quotes from a contemporary writer, +who describes him as perambulating +Spain, Portugal, England, and +France, and proclaiming himself +ready to meet all comers of sufficient +rank, not merely to break a +lance in chivalrous courtesy, but <i><span lang="fr">à +combattre à l’outrance</span></i>—an affair +which even at that time was too +important to be entered on as a frolic, +or to pass an idle hour, but really +required some serious justification. +No one, it is said, accepted the +challenge but the cousin of James +IV. of Scotland, who is said to +have been conquered, but not killed, +as from the nature of the challenge +he should have been; but this +story seems to be a mistake by +the contemporary, and M. Michel +merely quotes it without committing +himself.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Such was the person left by the +regent as his representative, though +apparently with no specific office or +powers acknowledged by the constitution +of Scotland. Research might +perhaps afford new light to clear up +the affair, but at present the only +acknowledgment of his existence, +bearing anything like an official +character, are entries in the Scots +treasurer’s accounts referred to by +M. Michel, one of them authorising +a payment of fifteen shillings +to a messenger to the warden of +the middle march, “with my lord +governor’s letters delivered by +Monsr. Labawte;” another payment +to his servant for summoning +certain barons and gentlemen to +repair to Edinburgh; and a payment +of twenty shillings, for a service +of more import, is thus entered:—“Item, +deliverit be Monsieur Lawbawtez +to Johne Langlandis, letters +of our sovereign lords to summon +and warn all the thieves and +broken men out of Tweeddale and +Eskdale in their own country—quhilk +letters were proclaimed at +market-cross of Roxburgh, Selkirk, +and Jedwood.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>This proclamation seems to have +been the deadly insult which sealed +his fate. The borders had hardly +yet lost their character of an independent +district, which might have +merged into something like a German +margravate. There had been +always some family holding a preponderating +and almost regal power +there. At this time it was the +Homes or Humes, a rough set, with +their hands deeply dipped in blood, +who little dreamed that their name +would be known all over Europe +by the fame of a fat philosopher +sitting writing in a peaceful library +with a goosequill, and totally innocent +of the death of a fellow-being. +It was one of Albany’s rigorous +measures to get the leaders of +this clan “untopped,” to use one +of Queen Elizabeth’s amiable pleasantries. +This was a thing to be +avenged; and since La Bastie was +taking on himself the responsibilities +of Albany, it was thought as +well that he should not evade this +portion of them. To lure him +within their reach, a sort of mock +fight was got up by the borderers +in the shape of the siege of one of +their peel towers. Away went La +Bastie in all his bravery, dreaming, +simple soul, as if he were in +Picardy or Tourain, that the mere +name of royalty would at once +secure peace and submission. His +eye, practised in scenes of danger, +at once saw murder in the gaze of +those he had ventured among, and +he set spurs to his good horse, hoping +to reach his headquarters in +the strong castle of Dunbar. The +poor fellow, however, ignorant of +the country, and entirely unaided, +was overtaken in a bog. It is said +that he tried cajoling, threats, and +appeals to honour and chivalrous +feeling. As well speak to a herd +of hungry wolves as to those grim +ministers of vengeance! The Laird +of Wedderburn, a Home, enjoyed +the distinction of riding with the +Frenchman’s head, tied by its perfumed +tresses at his saddle-bow, +into the town of Dunse, where the +trophy was nailed to the market-cross. +As old Pitscottie has it, +“his enemies came upon him, and +slew and murdered him very unhonestly, +and cutted off his head, +and carried it with them; and it +was said that he had long hair platt +over his neck, whilk David Home +of Wedderburn twust to his saddle-bow, +and keeped it.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>This affair brought Scotland into +difficulties both with England and +France. Henry VIII. professed +himself displeased that a French +adventurer should have been set +up as ruler in his nephew’s kingdom, +and Francis I., who had just +mounted the throne of France, demanded +vengeance on the murderers +of his distinguished subject, with +whose chivalrous spirit he had a +congenial sympathy. There is an +exceedingly curious and suggestive +correspondence between France and +Scotland at the commencement of +M. Teulet’s papers, which has been +aptly compared to the papers that +have been returned to Parliament +by our Indian Government on the +negotiations with some wily Affghan +or Scinde chief, in which reparation +is demanded for outrages on a British +subject. There is much fussy +desire to comply with the demands +of the great power, but ever a difficulty, +real or pretended, in getting +anything done; and probably it +often is in the East, as it then was +in Scotland, that the difficulty in +punishing a set of powerful culprits +has a better foundation in their +power of self-defence than the government +is inclined to acknowledge. +Evil days, however, for a time +clouded the rising sun of France. +The battle of Pavia seemed to set +her prostrate for the time; and +when Scotland, having then many +inducements the other way, was +reminded of the old alliance, she +answered the appeal with her old +zeal.</p> + +<p class='c012'>This article does not aspire to the +dignity of history. It has dealt +chiefly with the under current, as +it were, of the events connected +with the doings of the French in +Scotland—the secondary incidents, +which show how the two nations +got on together in their familiar +intercourse. Their intercourse, +however, now developes itself in +large historical features, to which it +is thought fitting to offer, in conclusion, +a general reference, merely +hinting at their connection with +the preceding details. Ostensibly, +and as matter of state policy, the +old alliance was so strong that it +seemed as if Scotland were drifting +under the lee of France to be a +mere colony or dependency of that +grand empire—though there were +influences at work which, in reality, +utterly defeated this expected consummation. +There was a brilliant +wedding when James V. went to +bring home Madeleine of France; +and was so honoured that, according +to the documents given by M. +Teulet, the officers charged with +the traditions of state precedents +grumbled about this prince of a +northern island, who knew no civilised +language, receiving honours +which had heretofore been deemed +sacred to the royal blood of France. +The national policy that held by +this marriage would have had but +a frail tenure, for poor Madeleine +soon drooped and died. She had +said, as a girl, that she wanted to +be a queen, be the realm she ruled +what it might; and so she had a +brief experience—this word seems +preferable to enjoyment—of the +throne of cold uncomfortable Scotland. +There was speedily another +wedding, bearing in the direction +of the French alliance, for that was +still uppermost with the governing +powers, whatever it might be with +the English and Protestant party +daily acquiring strength among the +district leaders, nobles or lairds. +It may have seemed to these, that +when the queen was no longer a +daughter of France, but a young +lady, the child of one feudatory +and the widow of another, with no +better claim to share the throne +than her beautiful face, there was +no further danger from France. +But the young queen was a Guise—one +of that wonderful race who +seemed advancing onwards, not only +to the supreme command of France, +but to something still greater, for +they have been known in their +boasting to speak of their house being +directly descended from Charlemagne. +When the daughter was +Queen of France, and the mother +ruled Scotland, the time for the +final annexation seemed close at +hand; but, in reality, the climax +had been reached, and the French +interest was near to its downfall. +While the queen-mother was taking +possession of the feudal strongholds, +and placing all the high offices of +state in the hands of Frenchmen—D’Oysells, +de Rubays, Villemores, +and the like—in France the proper +method of governing Scotland was +considered in council as a matter of +French policy; and the question +was discussed whether Scotland +should have the honour of belonging +to the crown of France, or +should be a provision for a younger +son of the house of Valois.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Those busy politicians, called the +Lords of the Congregation, knew +these things, and were stimulated to +exertion accordingly. Hence came it +to pass that the Reformation was so +sudden an event in Scotland. On the +morning of the 1st of August 1560 +the people of Scotland awakened +under the spiritual dominion of the +Pope—ere evening his hierarchy +was abolished, and to own it was +criminal. The work of that day +was not a deliberative act of legislation, +but the announcement of the +triumph of a party. After a long +deadly contest the English party +had gained a complete and final +victory. It almost enhanced the +triumph over French principles that +the Acts of this Parliament never +received the royal assent. Legislation +without the intervention of the +crown, was flat rebellion in the eyes +of France, and not very reconcilable +even with English decorum. It +was owing to this specialty that, +when Queen Mary engaged to support +the religion established by law +in Scotland, she was suspected, and +not without reason, of stowing away, +among the secrets of her heart, the +consideration likely to be some +day available, that Protestantism, +not having the sanction of the +crown, was not the religion established +by law. If we were to enter +with any fulness on this great passage +in history, and to view it +through the rich new light poured +upon it by the documents collected +by M. Teulet, we would require +more room than the quite sufficient +space which this article occupies. +We have opportunity only for this +brief reference to them, as the winding-up +and conclusion of that interesting +episode in history—the old +alliance between France and Scotland.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Before parting, let us say a word +on the personal character and other +merits of the volumes which have +led us on this occasion to look into +the connection of our ancestors with +the French, and have furnished us +with the greater portion of the material +for our two articles. To see +two men of learning, research, and +various special abilities, devoting +what must be no inconsiderable +portion of a life’s labour to the +connection of our country with the +great French empire, is interesting +and pleasant, to say the least of it. +We are a nation disposed to court +the light; we are never afraid of +the effect that revelations of our +antecedents may have; we are sure +of coming well out in all inquiries +into our history and connections; +and the present elucidation has not +stripped a leaf from the national +laurels—indeed, we take it to have +only removed some of the dust that +covered them, and revealed their +real freshness and brightness. To the +labourers in such a task we should +feel that we owe a debt of kindly +gratitude, and this should not the +less impress us that the work has +been done by citizens of that great +old European central power which +befriended the poor children of our +soil in the days of their poverty and +danger. New interests and attachments, +more suitable to the position +of Scotland on the map of Europe, +and to the origin of her people, +afterwards arose. When centuries +of cruel wrong and alienation and +wrath had passed away, she became +reconciled to that great relation +which, let us suppose, in the usual +misunderstanding which creates the +quarrels in the romances, had treated +her as an alien enemy. But +while the reconciliation has been +long consolidated, and has proved +as natural a national adjustment as +the restoration of an exiled child is +a natural family adjustment, there +is still a pleasing sentiment in recalling +the friends found in the +wide world when kindred were unkind; +and the hospitable doors +opened to our wandering countrymen, +among those who stood at the +head of European civilisation in the +middle ages, must ever remain a +memorable record of the generosity +of the patrons, and of the merits of +those who so well requited their +generosity by faithful and powerful +services. To the volumes which +contain the record of this attachment +something more is due than +the mere recognition of their literary +merits—they deserve at the +hands of our countrymen an affectionate +recognition as national memorials. +The quantity of curious +and interesting matter contained in +them, but for the special zeal of the +two men who have thus come forward, +might have remained still +buried under archæological rubbish—might +have remained so for ever, +even until oblivion overtook them. +It is surely right to hope that the +zeal and labour embarked by the +adventurers will not be thrown +away; and that our countrymen +will take to the volumes, both of M. +Michel and of M. Teulet, as works +which it is becoming for them to +possess and read as patriotic Scotsmen. +If readers have found any +interest in the casual glimpses of +their contents supplied by the present +sketch, they may be assured +of finding much more matter of +the same kind should they undertake +an investigation of the volumes +themselves.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Setting before one on the library +table the two volumes of M. Michel, +and the five of M. Teulet, is a good +deal like receiving one guest in full +court costume, prepared to meet +distinguished company, while another +comes to you in his lounging +home vestment of serge, with slippers +and smoking-cap, as if he had +just stepped across the way from +the scene of his laborious researches. +In the collections in +this country of some men who +have given themselves to works +illustrated by fine engravings, the +Book of the Ceremonial of the +Coronation of Louis XV. is conspicuous, +not only by its finely +engraved plates, but by the instruction +they afford as representations +of the costume and ways of +the great hierarchy of state officers +which clustered round the throne +of the Bourbons before the great +smash came. Among the most +conspicuous of these are the Scots +Guards, then no longer our countrymen, +though the title was retained. +The outfit must have appeared +signally beautiful and chivalrous +amid the ponderous state +habiliments which the eighteenth +century saw accumulate and fall +to pieces. It is evidently a traditional +type of the court or company +dress of the man-at-arms of +the fifteenth century—a sufficient +amount of steel to betoken the +warrior, richly damasked or inlaid +with precious metals—a superfluity +of lace and embroidered cloth of +silk or velvet. Altogether, a more +superbly and chivalrously accoutred +person than your Scottish Guard +it is difficult to idealise; and in +the original engraving there is +about him, both in countenance +and attitude, the air of one devoted +in enthusiasm and solemn sense of +responsibility, to the duty wherewith +he is intrusted. With a good +eye to the appropriate, M. Michel—it +is his own suggestion, we take it, +not the binder’s—has transferred +this striking figure to the outside of +this book, where it glitters in gold +on the true-blue background, which +also relieves the lion, the thistle, and +the <em>fleur-de-lys</em>. A glimpse we have +just had at a quarto and illustrated +copy of the book in the hands of +a fortunate collector, wherein is a +full engraved copy of the plate of +the Scots Guard, along with many +other appropriate artistical decorations; +but in this shape the book +is not put, so far as we are aware, +at the disposal of the public; and +any account of it is, in a manner, +a digression into something like +private affairs. Reverting to the +common published impression of +M. Michel’s book, let it suffice to +say that it is well filled with blazons +of the armorial achievements of our +countrymen, assuredly valuable to +workers in heraldry and genealogy, +and interesting to those descendants +of the stay-at-home portions +of the several families which established +themselves so comfortably +and handsomely in the territory of +our ancient ally.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Looking apart from matters of +national interest to the literary +nature of M. Michel’s volumes, we +find in them specialties which we +know will be deemed signally meritorious; +but of the merits to be +found in them we have some difficulty +in speaking, since they are +literary virtues of a kind rather +out of the way of our appreciation—beyond +it, if the reader prefers +that way of expressing what is +meant. There is throughout these +two volumes the testimony to an +extent of dreary reading and searching +which would stimulate compassion, +were it not that he who +would be the victim, were that +the proper feeling in which he +should be approached, evidently +exults and glories, and is really +happy, in the conditions which +those who know no better would +set down as his hardships. There +are some who, when they run the +eye over arrêts and other formal +documents, over pedigrees, local +chronicles telling trifles, title-deeds, +and such-like documents, carry +with them a general impression +of the political or social lesson +taught by them, and discard from +recollection all the details from +which any such impression has +been derived. M. Michel is of +another kind; he has that sort of +fondness for his work which induces +him to show you it in all +stages, from the rude block to the +finished piece of art, so far as it is +finished. You are entered in all +the secrets of his workshop—you +participate in all his disappointments +and difficulties as well as +his successes. The research which +has had no available result is still +reported, in order that you may +see how useless it has been. We +repeat that we have not much +sympathy with this kind of literature, +yet would not desire to speak +profanely of it, since we know that +some consider it the only perfect +method of writing books on subjects +connected with history or +archæology. The “citation of authorities,” +in fact, is deemed, in +this department of intellectual labour, +something equivalent to records +of experiments in natural +science, and to demonstrations in +geometrical science. Our own sympathy +being with the exhibition +rather of results than of the means +of reaching them, we have not, unfortunately, +that high respect for +footnotes filled with accurate transcripts +of book-titles, which is +due to the high authorities by +whom the practice has been long +sanctioned. We can afford it, however, +the sort of distant unsympathising +admiration which people +bestow on accomplishments for +which they have no turn or sympathy—as +for those of the juggler, +the acrobat, and the accountant. +M. Michel’s way of citing the books +he refers to is indeed, to all appearance, +a miracle of perfection in this +kind of work. Sometimes he is at +the trouble of denoting where the +passage stands in more than one, +or even in every, edition of the +work. He gives chapter or section +as well as page and volume. In +old books counted not by the page +but the leaf, he will tell you which +side he desires you to look at, right +or left; and where, as is the way in +some densely printed old folios, in +addition to the arrangement of the +pages by numeration, divisions on +each page are separated by the +letters A B C, he tells you which +of these letters stands sentry on +the paragraph he refers to. There +is, at all events, a very meritorious +kind of literary honesty in all this, +and however disinclined to follow +it, no one has a right to object +to it.</p> + +<p class='c012'>And, after all, a man who has +gone through so much hard forbidding +reading as M. Michel has, +is surely entitled to let us know +something about the dreary wastes +and rugged wildernesses through +which he has sojourned—all for +the purpose of laying before his +readers these two gay attractive-looking +volumes. Towards his +foreign reading, we in the general +instance lift the hat of respect, +acknowledging its high merits, on +the principle of the <i><span lang="la">omne ignotum +pro magnifico</span></i>. Upon the diligent +manner in which he has, in our +own less luxuriant field of inquiry +among Scots authorities, turned over +every stone to see what is under +it, we can speak with more distinct +assurance. Take one instance. The +young Earl of Haddington, the son +of that crafty old statesman called +Tam o’ the Cowgate, who scraped +together a fortune in public office +under James VI., was studying in +France, when he met and fell in +love with the beautiful Mademoiselle +De Chatillon, grand-daughter +of the Admiral Coligny. When +only nineteen years old he went +back to France, married her, and +brought her home. He died within +a year, however, and the countess, +a rich beautiful widow, returned to +her friends. She was, of course, +beset by admirers, and in reference +to these, M. Michel has turned up +a curious passage in ‘Les Histoirettes +de Fallemant des Réaux,’ +which, if true, shows the persevering +zeal with which our queen, +Henrietta Maria, seized every opportunity +to promote the cause of +her religion. The countess, being +Huguenot, and of a very Huguenot +family, the queen was eager that +she should be married to a Roman +Catholic, and selected the son of +her friend Lady Arundel. The +dominion over her affections was, +however, held by “<span lang="fr">un jeune Ecossois +nommé Esbron, neveu du +Colonel Esbron</span>.” The name is +French for the chevalier Hepburn, +one of the most renowned soldiers +in the French service in the early +part of the seventeenth century. +The mamma Chatillon was dead +against either connection. She got +a fright by hearing that her daughter +had been carried off to the +Fenêbres, or the services of Easter-week +which inaugurate Good-Friday; +she consequently gave her a +maternal box on the ear, carried +her off, and, to keep her out of +harm’s way, forthwith married her +to the Count de la Suze, <i><span lang="fr">tout +borgne, tout ivrogne et tout indetté +qu’il étoit</span></i>. M. Michel’s purpose is +not with this desirable husband, +nor with his wife after she ceases +to be connected with Scotland, +but with the young Hepburn who +comes casually across the scene. +Following in his track entirely, the +next quarter where, after appearing +in the ‘Histoirettes,’ he turns +up, is Durie’s ‘Decisions of the +Court of Session.’ This is by no +means one of the books which every +well-informed man is presumed +to know. So toughly is it stuffed +with the technicalities and involutions +of old Scots law, and so confused +and involved is every sentence +of it by the natural haziness +of its author, that probably no living +English writer would dare to meddle +with it. No Scotsman would, +unless he be lawyer—nor, indeed, +would any lawyer, unless of a very +old school—welcome the appearance +of the grim folio. In citing from +it the decision of Hepburn <em>contra</em> +Hepburn, 14th March 1639, even +the courageous M. Michel subjoins: +“<span lang="fr">Si j’ai bien compris le text de cet +arrêt conçu dans un langue particulière.</span>” +This peculiar arrêt begins +as follows:—“The brethren +and sisters of umquhile Colonel +Sir John Hepburn having submitted +all questions and rights +which they might pretend to the +goods, gear, and means of the said +umquhile Sir John, to the laird +Wauchton and some other friends, +wherein the submitters were bound +and did refer to the said friends to +determine what proportion of the +said goods should be given to +George Hepburn, the son of the +eldest brother to the said Sir John, +which George was then in France at +the time of the making of the said +submission and bond, and did not +subscribe the same, nor none taking +the burden for him; upon the +which submission, the said friends +had given their decreet arbitral. The +living brethren and sisters of the +said Sir John being confirmed executors +to him, pursues one Beaton, +factor in Paris, for payment of 20,000 +pounds addebted by him to the said +umquhile Sir John, who, suspending +upon double poinding,” &c.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Perhaps we have said enough to +exemplify the dauntless nature of +M. Michel’s researches. It is impossible +to withhold admiration +from such achievements, and we +know that, in some quarters, such +are deemed the highest to which +the human intellect can aspire. +But we confess that, to our taste, +the results of M. Teulet’s labours +are more acceptable. True, he does +not profess to give the world an +original book. He comes forward +as the transcriber and editor of +certain documents; but in the +gathering of these documents from +different quarters, through all the +difficulties of various languages and +alphabets, in their arrangement so +as to bring out momentous historical +truths in their due series, and in +the helps he has afforded to those +who consult his volumes, he has +shown a skill and scholarship which +deserve to be ranked with the +higher attainments of science. We +had formerly an opportunity of +paying our small tribute to M. +Teulet’s merits when we referred +to his supplemental volume to Labanoff’s +Correspondence of Queen +Mary.<a id='r9'></a><a href='#f9' class='c015'><sup>[9]</sup></a> Among not the least valued +of the contents of our book-shelves, +are six octavo volumes containing +the correspondence of La Mothe +Fénélon, and the other French ambassadors +to England and Scotland +during the latter years of Queen +Elizabeth’s reign, for which the +world is indebted to M. Teulet’s +researches. The immediate merit +of the book, the title of which is +referred to at the beginning of this +article, is, that it is now at the +command of the public. It is indeed +a reprint, with some additions, +of the papers—at least all that are +worth having—which were previously +an exclusive luxury of the +Bannatyne Club, having been printed +in three quarto volumes, as a gift +to their brethren, by certain liberal +members of the Club. These +papers go into the special affairs +of this country as connected with +France and Spain from the beginning +of our disputes with our +old ally down to the accession of +James VI. In the hands of the +first historian who has the fortune +to make ample use of them, these +documents will disperse the secluded +and parochial atmosphere that +hangs about the history of Scotland, +and show how the fate of +Europe in general turned upon the +pivot of the destinies of our country. +It is here that, along with +many minor secrets, we have revealed +to us the narrow escape +made by the cause of Protestantism, +when the project on the cards +was the union of the widowed +Queen Mary to the heir of Spain, +and the political combinations still +centring round the interests and +the fate of the Queen of Scots, +which led to the more signal and +renowned escape realised in the +defeat of the Armada.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span> + <h2 class='c002'>KINGLAKE’S INVASION OF THE CRIMEA.<a id='r10'></a><a href='#f10' class='c015'><sup>[10]</sup></a></h2> +</div> + +<p class='c016'>Seven years ago, when the war +with Russia was about to end—was, +in fact, already virtually ended—and +when the war-fever of the English +had been abated by copious +blood-letting, and by the absence +of further stimulant to hostility +since Sebastopol had ceased to +resist, people were already talking +about the future history of the +strife. It seemed to be agreed that +the public, which had so eagerly +swallowed all the information it +could get, and snapped at all the +opinions which floated so thickly +on the stream of current history, +was for the present glutted with +the subject, and that to offer it any +more Crimean information, however +cunningly dressed, would be like +fishing with a May-fly for a July +trout. On the other hand, the +subject seemed to be essentially +one of contemporary importance. +It had not the elements which gave +lasting interest to the Peninsular +war. It had developed no great +reputations in which the nation +could for the future undoubtingly +confide. It had left us victorious +over no great conqueror. Its memorials +were not such as we should +choose to dwell on; for though the +nation was very proud of the early +triumphs of the Alma and Inkermann, +still the later course of the +struggle had been, though successful +in its end, yet disastrous and +gloomy in its progress, and had +left, partly through the more brilliant +share which our allies took +in the final action, but principally +through the forebodings of our +own press, a sense of comparative +failure. Mr Kinglake comes upon +the stage at a fortunate time. The +weariness of the subject, once felt, +has disappeared, while the strong +contemporary interest in the actors +remains. That interest is national +in the sense of being fixed, not on +a few great objects, but on a great +number of inferior objects connected +with the war. It is not so +much patriotic as domestic. The +graves of Cathcart’s Hill, the +trenches filled with dead, the burial-grounds +of Scutari, have a strong +though softened hold on innumerable +hearts. Everywhere in England—in +remote parishes, in small +communities, in humble households—remembrance +of the great features +of the struggle is kept alive by +the presence of those who survived +it. A strong conviction that French +manœuvring was not entirely directed +against the enemy, and that +a fair scrutiny would leave us more +reason for self-satisfaction than at +first appeared, has long been afloat. +And a succession of great conflicts +in which we have been strongly +interested has schooled us in military +doctrines, and has rendered us +better able to appreciate the operations +of armies than we were either +at the beginning or the end of the +Crimean war.</p> + +<p class='c012'>If the time for the history is +happily chosen, so is the historian. +Few men who have written so little +have so established their reputation +as Mr Kinglake. His ‘Eothen,’ +immensely popular at first, has settled +into an English classic. It is +full of interest, full of remarkably +vivid descriptions, full of original +writing; and though the style does +not reject effects which a very pure +taste would condemn, yet it possesses +the eminent merits of vigour, +condensation, and richness. In the +fulness of the fame thus earned, +Mr Kinglake accompanied the army +to the Crimea. The scenes of the +war consequently possessed for him +a reality which no reading, no imagination, +no second-hand description +can impart. He had seen +the Euxine covered with the vast +flotilla of the Allies. He had set +foot on the hostile coast at the +same time as the combined armies. +He had accompanied them in their +compact advance, when their columns +seemed but spots and patches +in the vast circle of sea and plain. +His own eyes had beheld the battle +of the Alma, and the signs of +death and suffering that remained +next day to mark the phases of +the struggle. And when afterwards +he came to record the incidents of +the war, though no individual observation +could embrace all the details, +there was always present with +him the invaluable power which +personal knowledge confers, to define, +to affirm, or to reject. And as +it was soon understood that he intended +to write the history of the +war, he, in his double capacity of +approved author and actual spectator, +became almost, as a matter +of course, the depositary of a vast +amount of information connected +with the subject, oral and documentary, +private and official. He +had a large acquaintance with the +political as well as the military +actors in the drama. Few men, +then, could have had so free access +as he to the materials of which the +history must be wrought.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Moreover, he had shown in his +former work that he possessed another +qualification for his task. +History cannot be written at a heat. +Patient inquiry, long meditation, +the fortitude necessary for the abandonment +of convenient conclusions +too hastily come to, are all indispensable +to success. But with this +pursuit of the necessary details, +unity of effect, as numberless failures +have shown, is almost incompatible. +Now, Mr Kinglake had +given remarkable proof that he +could bestow a microscopic attention +on particulars without sacrifice +of breadth. It is generally believed +that he spent nine years in bringing +the single volume of ‘Eothen’ +up to the standard of his own fastidious +taste. The sarcastic advice +of Pope to an aspiring author—“Keep +your piece nine years”—had +been literally accepted, but with a +result very different from that which +the adviser anticipated. Instead of +becoming dissatisfied with a work +looked at after a long interval and +with changed feelings, Mr Kinglake +proved that he could not only +“strike the second heat”—the process +which Ben Jonson says is so +necessary for the forging of ideas +into happy forms of expression—but +that he could bring his thoughts +again and again to the intellectual +smithy to be recast and shaped +without finding the fire extinct. +Here, then, was evidence of a quality +most valuable to one who must +long and patiently grope amid masses +of evidence and details, sometimes +conflicting, often worthless, +and yet retain freshly the power of +throwing the selected results into +a form clear, harmonious, and striking.</p> + +<p class='c012'>We have thus broadly stated some +of Mr Kinglake’s eminent qualifications +for his task, and a detailed +notice of his work will necessarily +include others. And it is easy to +believe that he might have selected +a variety of subjects, his execution +of which would have insured unqualified +praise. But for the present +task, as might have been seen +before he commenced it, his fitness +was marred by one circumstance. +His political course had proved that +his animosity towards the French +Emperor amounted to a passion, or, +as those who did not care to pick +their words might say, a mania. It +might be guessed beforehand, therefore, +that the Emperor would scarcely +meet with fair play at his hands. +And considering the share taken by +that personage in the events which +Mr Kinglake had undertaken to record, +to misrepresent his policy or +his doings would be to distort the +history. Any one who entertained +such a misgiving must have found +it strengthened when, on glancing +over the table of contents, he perceived +that nearly a quarter of the +first volume, amidst what purports +to be a record of the “transactions +that brought on the war,” is occupied +with an account of the <i><span lang="fr">coup +d’état</span></i> which substituted an empire +for a republic in France. On reading +the volume his suspicions would +inevitably be converted into certainty. +More than that, indeed, for he +would find that his anticipations +were far exceeded by a 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. Had Mr Kinglake contrived +in this chapter to have completely +relieved his feelings and +have been contented with flaying +the Emperor and thus have done +with him, leaving him to get +through the rest of the book as naturally +and comfortably as he could +be expected to do without his skin, +we might consider it as an episode +which we should have been at liberty +to set apart from the main +purpose of the work. But like +King Charles I., whom David Copperfield’s +friend, Mr Dick, never +could keep out of his memorial, this +diabolical caricature of despotism +haunts the narrative at every turn. +The canvass is spread, the palette is +laid, the artist is at his easel full of +his subject—all the great personages +of the time are to figure there, +and great incidents are to form the +background. The spectator is at +first charmed with the progress of +the design; but presently, amidst +the nobly-drawn portraits, there +is a sketch of a monarch with +cloven feet appearing beneath his +robes, and a tail curling under his +throne; and whereas the rest of +the picture is in true perspective, +all that relates to this figure has a +separate horizon and point of sight. +The result is as if Gilray in his +bitterest mood had got into Sir +Joshua’s studio and persuaded him +to let their fancies mingle in one +incongruous work.</p> + +<p class='c012'>We have thus stated our one +point of difference with the author +of these fascinating volumes. With +this exception we have little to do +but to praise—and indeed, as a +piece of writing, we have nothing +to do but to praise the work from +beginning to end. How materials +in many respects so unpromising +could be made so interesting, is +marvellous. Many a reader who +remembers what a tangled skein of +politics it was that led to the war—many +a soldier who has a confused +recollection of a jumble of Holy +Places, and the Four Powers, and +Vienna Conferences, and who would +be glad to know what it was he was +fighting about, now that it is all +over—will take up these volumes +as a duty, and will be surprised to +find that the narrative approached +in so resolute a frame of mind, is +more easy to read and more difficult +to lay down than the most popular +of the popular novels.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The dispute about the Holy +Places, though not in itself in any +appreciable degree the cause of the +war, was the introduction to the +events that led to hostilities. There +is something almost ludicrous, +something more befitting the times +of Philip Augustus and of Cœur de +Lion than those of Louis Napoleon +and Lord Palmerston, in the idea +of great European potentates appearing +as the backers of two denominations +of monks, who were +quarrelling about the key of a +church-door in Palestine. Nevertheless, +the Czar, as the chief of a +people whose passions were strongly +aroused by the dispute, had a real +and legitimate interest in the matter. +To suppose that the President +of the French Republic, or any section +of the people over whom he +presided, really cared whether the +Greek or the Latin Church had the +custody of this important key, would +be absurd. But the President it was +who opened the question by advocating +the claims of the Latins. +His object in doing so is by no +means clear. Mr Kinglake accounts +for it by saying, “The French President, +in cold blood, and under no +new motive for action, took up the +forgotten cause of the Latin Church +of Jerusalem, and began to apply +it as a wedge for sundering the +peace of the world.” Now, that +Louis Napoleon was desirous of +disturbing the peace of the world, +is Mr Kinglake’s argument throughout. +It is to his book what the +wrath of Achilles is to the ‘Iliad;’ +and he tells us that the reason for +this truculent desire was to prop +up the French Empire. But that +reason, though it may plausibly +explain the acts of the French Emperor, +does not account in the least +for the acts of the French President. +We presume Mr Kinglake hardly +wishes us to infer that Louis Napoleon +sowed the seeds of war during +his Presidency, as provision for +the possible necessities of a possible +Empire. Yet the historian’s +theory would seem to demand the +inference.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The poor Sultan, meanwhile, who +might well exclaim ‘A plague o’ +both your Churches!’ was the unwilling +arbiter of this dispute between +his Christian subjects, and +was urged by the great champion +on each side to decide in favour of +his protégé. Who might have the +key, or whether there was any key +at all, or any sanctuary at all, or +any Greek or Latin Church, was to +this hapless potentate a matter of +profound indifference. The French +envoy put on the strongest pressure, +and the Sultan inclined to the side +of the Latins; the Russian minister +thereupon squeezed from him a +concession to their adversaries; +and between the two he managed, +as might be expected, to disgust +both sects, and to anger the Czar +without satisfying the Emperor. +The displeasure of Nicholas was extreme, +and he prepared to support +his further arguments by marching +a large army towards the Turkish +frontier. And the first use of this +force was to give momentum to the +mission of Prince Mentschikoff, who +was sent to Constantinople as the +organ of his Imperial master’s displeasure. +The selection of the envoy +showed that the Czar wished +to take the most direct and violent +course to the fulfilment of his aim; +for the Prince’s diplomacy was of +that simple kind—the only kind he +seemed capable of employing—which +regards threats as the best +means of persuasion.</p> + +<p class='c012'>These strong measures were the +first indications that war was possibly +impending. And as they appeared +to spring from the religious +fervour of the Czar, which had been +roused to this pitch by the gratuitous +intermeddling of Napoleon in +the question of the Holy Places, it +would at first seem as if it were +indeed the French ruler who had +first blown the coal which presently +caused such a conflagration. But +in the interval between the decision +of the Sultan about the churches, +and the appearance of Mentschikoff +at Constantinople, Nicholas had held +with Sir Hamilton Seymour the remarkable +conversations which explain +the real designs cloaked by the +religious question. In these interviews +he uttered his famous parable +of “the sick man,” representing +that the Turkish Empire was dying, +and might fall to pieces any day, +and proposing that the event should +be provided for by an immediate +arrangement for dividing the fragments. +Provided he had the concurrence +of England, the Czar would +not, he said, care what any other +Powers might do or say in the +matter.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Here then was a foregone conclusion +plainly revealed. The religious +ire of the Czar, the movement of +his troops, the mission of Mentschikoff, +were all to be instruments for +hastening the dissolution of the +sick man, and appropriating his domains. +It was no new idea; for +Nicholas was but following the traditionary +policy of his house. And +if it could be believed that his expectations +of the speedy collapse of +the Turkish Empire were real, it +would be unjust to blame him for +wishing to profit by the event. We +are too apt to judge of the policy +of other Governments by the interests +of England, and to condemn +as unprincipled what is opposed to +our advantage. Nevertheless, to a +ruler of Russia, no object can appear +more legitimate than the possession +of that free outlet to the world, +which alone is wanting to remove +the spell that paralyses her gigantic +energies. Looking from the shores +of the Euxine, she is but mocked +by the vision of naval glories and +of commercial prosperity; but let +her extend her limits to the Bosphorus +and the Dardanelles, and +no dreams of greatness can be too +splendid for her to realise. But +there is no proof that the Czar’s +anticipations respecting Turkey +were grounded on anything more +solid than his strong desire to render +them true. In fact, the forecast +of the Czar is much the same +as that of Mohammed Damoor, as +described in ‘Eothen:’ who, having +prophesied that the Jews of Damascus +would be despoiled on a particular +day, took steps to verify +his prediction by first exciting +and then heading the mob of +plunderers.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The reply of England to his overtures +satisfied him that he could +not hope for her complicity in his +design upon Turkey. Had it been +otherwise, the sick man would, no +doubt, have been so cared for that, +sick or well, there would soon have +been an end of him. But the Czar +perceived he must for the present +forego his desire for the vineyard +of Naboth. Yet there were several +reasons why he should still draw +what profit he could from the present +opportunity. He had a pretext—an +indifferent one it is true, +but still it was more convenient to +use it than to look for another. He +had been at the trouble of military +preparations, and was naturally desirous +that they should not be barren +of result. And, in the matter +of Montenegro, Turkey had just +succumbed to him so readily on a +threat of war, that it seemed very +unlikely he should ever find her in +a better frame of mind for his purpose. +Therefore, though the sick +man was reprieved, yet he was not +to go scot-free; and Mentschikoff +was charged, while ostensibly urging +the Sultan to reconsider the +question of the Holy Places, to keep +in reserve a demand of much deeper +significance.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Scornful in demeanour and imperious +in language, Mentschikoff +entered Constantinople more like +the bearer of a gage of defiance +than a messenger of peace. His +deportment startled the Divan out +of its habitual calm; and the British +Chargé d’Affaires, at the instance +of the Turkish Ministers, requested +our Admiral at Malta to move his +squadron into the Levant. This +demand was not complied with; +but the French fleet was ordered to +Salamis. And this movement is +condemned by Mr Kinglake as most +impolitic; for it happened, he says, +at a time when “the anger of the +Emperor Nicholas had grown cool,” +and it “gave deep umbrage to Russia.” +From which he means us to infer +that Louis Napoleon, following +his deep design of fanning the flame +of discord when it should seem to +languish, was so timing the advance +of his fleet as to neutralise the pacific +influences which had begun to +have their sway.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Now what are the circumstances +of the case? The French Emperor +knew nothing of the conversation +with Sir Hamilton Seymour, which +did not transpire till long afterwards. +Neither he nor the British +Government were aware of the +Czar’s real demands. Ostensibly the +matter of controversy was still the +original question between him and +the Czar concerning the Holy Places. +And while one of the disputants, +France, had urged her views in the +ordinary way by the mouth of her +ambassador, her opponent was preparing +to coerce the arbiter by a +menacing mission backed by an +army and a fleet. The army already +touched the frontier, the fleet was +prepared to sail for the Bosphorus. +Will anybody except Mr Kinglake +blame the French Emperor for +sending his fleet to Salamis? or say +that he was bound, before taking +such a step, to consider whether it +might not give deep umbrage to +Russia?</p> + +<p class='c012'>Mentschikoff then proceeded to +urge his demands. These were, +that, in addition to the concessions +required respecting the Holy Places, +the Sultan should, by treaty with +the Czar, engage to confirm the +Christian subjects of the Porte in +certain privileges and immunities. +Though the Sultan was very willing +to confirm them in these privileges, +he was by no means willing to bind +himself by treaty with the Czar to +do so; for by so doing he would +give the Czar a right, as a party to +the treaty, to see that it was fulfilled; +and hence those who were +to benefit by the privileges would +naturally regard most, not him who +granted them, but him who could +compel their observance. In fact, +it was virtually conferring on the +Czar the protectorate of the Sultan’s +Christian subjects.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It was while the Turkish Ministers +were in the deepest embarrassment +between the consequences of +listening to such a proposition on +the one hand, and the fear of offending +the Czar by refusing to entertain +it on the other, that Lord Stratford +appeared on the scene. The coming +of the British Ambassador, and the +diplomatic duel that ensued between +him and Mentschikoff, where +predominant influence in the Sultan’s +counsels was to be the prize +of the victor, forms one of the most +brilliant passages in this brilliant +book. The mere presence of the +Ambassador of England restores the +Sultan and his Ministers to complete +self-possession. When Mentschikoff +blusters, they refresh themselves +by a view of Lord Stratford’s +commanding aspect; when the Russian +menaces war, they are comforted +by a hint from the Englishman respecting +the English squadron. Of +such dramatic excellence is this +portion of the story, that the enthralled +reader forgets to inquire +how it was that in a dispute between +France and Russia respecting +the subjects of Turkey, the Ambassador +of England should be the +foremost champion. But we see +him throughout as the power that +moves the Mussulman puppets, and +from whose calm opposition the +menaces of Mentschikoff recoil harmless; +and we see in distant St +Petersburg the great Czar himself +lashed to fury at feeling himself +foiled by one whom he has long, +we are told, considered as a personal +foe. We cannot but feel proud +in these circumstances of the position +of our representative, though +it would be difficult to say, perhaps, +what advantage besides this feeling +of pride we, as a nation, derived +from it. But it is clear that, while +the Czar was dreaming, as of something +possible to be realised by a +great display of power, of a protectorate +over the Christian subjects +of the Porte, here was a British +protectorate of the most absolute +character already established over +the Porte and its subjects, Christian +and Mussulman; and we might +almost infer that nothing further +was requisite on Lord Stratford’s +part but to humour Mohammedan +prejudices by submitting to a few +insignificant religious rites, in order +to qualify him for at once taking +his place as Chief of the Ottoman +Empire, and the true Commander +of the Faithful.</p> + +<p class='c012'>In the diplomatic encounter, +Mentschikoff had no more chance +than the fiend in a moral tale of +<em>diablerie</em>, who urges weak man to +sign his soul away after the good +angel has come to the rescue. +Baffled at all points, he departs with +all the diplomatic train, muttering +vengeance. And here ends the +first act of the drama, when the +pretexts of the Czar have vanished, +and he shows his true design. The +next begins with the crossing of +the Pruth by the Russian forces, in +order to secure the material guarantee +of the Danubian provinces. +But the menacing position of Russia +was not the only change in the +situation. England, who in the +earlier dispute had no more interest +than the other Western Powers in +opposing Russia, had in the progress +of the controversy made herself so +prominent that she was, in the +judgment of Lord Clarendon, bound +to defend the provinces of the Sultan +against an unprovoked attack +by Russia. That she had laid herself +under this obligation was entirely +owing to the lofty part which +Lord Stratford had played in the +drama. On the other hand, had +Lord Stratford not been so ready +and conspicuous in his championship, +the Divan, feeling itself unsupported, +might have yielded to +the demands of Russia.</p> + +<p class='c012'>For a great part of the narrative, +then, the principal positions have +been occupied by England, Russia, +and Turkey; and the interest imparted +to scenes which, from an +ordinary hand, would have been +eminently tedious, is wonderful. +But at this juncture, King Charles +I., who has long been impending, +can no longer be kept out of the +memorial. The iniquitous machinations +of the French Emperor are +brought into the foreground. The +occasion for enlarging on them is +that which we shall presently state. +But first we must say that it is +from no wish to dilate on what we +think the blemish of the book that +we expatiate on this theme. It is +because it is mixed up with all the +main parts of a work which we are +bound to treat as an authentic history. +But it happens that, for +a reason to be noted hereafter, we +can, without injury to the texture, +separate this portion from the rest; +and we therefore propose to follow +this thread of the narrative to its +end, and so, having done with it, +to be at liberty, for the rest of these +volumes, to approve no less warmly +than we admire.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Austria naturally felt considerable +interest in the movements of a +formidable neighbour, whose troops +were now winding round her frontier, +who, by overrunning Turkey, +would enclose some of her provinces, +and who, at the next step in +advance, would control the Lower +Danube. She therefore, in conjunction +with Prussia, made common +cause with the Western Powers, +so far as to offer a strong remonstrance +against the occupation of +the Danubian provinces, and to +join in their efforts to preserve +peace. Mr Kinglake contends +that this kind of pacific pressure +would have secured its object, and +that if it had not, Austria would +have joined France and England in +having recourse to sterner measures. +But he says that, without waiting +for the result of this joint coercion, +England was persuaded to join +France in a separate course of +action, which, without necessity, +involved us in a war desired only +by the French Emperor. “In order +to see how it came to be possible,” +says the historian, “that the +vast interests of Europe should be +set aside in favour of mere personal +objects, it will presently be necessary +to contract the field of vision, +and, going back to the winter of +1851, to glance at the operations of +a small knot of middle-aged men +who were pushing their fortunes in +Paris.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>And here is interpolated—for as +an interpolation we regard it—that +curious episode which has for its +subject the <i><span lang="fr">coup d’état</span></i> and the +establishment of the second French +Empire. Standing apart from the +purpose of the book, its isolation +gives it peculiar distinctness. But +its inherent character is such that it +needs no art or accident to bring it +into strongest relief. It is a singularly +clever and singularly acrimonious +attack upon the foremost statesman +and most powerful potentate +of these times. And it makes demands +on our credulity which are too +heavy for anything short of absolute +proof to maintain. For we are asked +to believe that a set of men with no +more character or consideration than +Falstaff and his associates, were +able to call on the French nation +to stand and deliver, and that the +nation thereupon submitted to be +knocked down, to have its throat +cut, and to be plundered by these +minions of the moon. Now, does +anybody think that diadems, such +as that of France, are to be stolen +from a shelf by any cutpurse who +wants to put them in his pocket? +Or does anybody think that a mere +cutpurse, having succeeded in the +theft, could so have worn his stolen +diadem as to enhance its splendour +and renown? That which made +the Empire possible, and that which +maintains it now, was the conviction +that the choice of the nation +lay between it and Red Republicanism. +And to establish, in any +degree, his case, Mr Kinglake +should have proved that no such +conviction existed. But if it be true +that France found in the Empire +a refuge from anarchy, then reasonable +men will not be ready to scrutinise, +in too severe a spirit, the means +taken to consolidate the throne. +Granted that the army, the instrument +employed by the President, +disgraced itself by an indiscriminate +and unprovoked slaughter—that +the opposition of political adversaries +was silenced in a very +arbitrary fashion—that a foreign +war would probably be necessary +for the security of the new dynasty,—yet +will it be said that a result +which has tranquillised France, +which has developed her resources +and exalted her reputation, leaves +in the establishment of the Empire +nothing except what the world +must regret and condemn? And +looking at the portrait which Mr +Kinglake has drawn, with so bold +and incisive a touch, of this potentate +of wooden face, base soul, and +feeble resolve, who turns green in +moments of danger—who, with the +aid of swindlers and bravoes, has +yoked France to his chariot, and +drives it in a career of blood with +the great Powers of Europe bound +to its wheels—we ask, not only is +it brilliant as a work of art, but +is it like the original? We do +not profess to believe that the +Empire is the perfection of government. +We do not maintain that +Louis Napoleon is a model of virtue +and disinterested policy. But if +his place in Europe were suddenly +vacant, will Mr Kinglake tell us +how it would be better filled, or +what precious things might not be +thrown into the gulf before it could +be closed? And if no answer can +be given to the question, we may +well doubt the expediency of contributing +to bring so important a +personage and so powerful an ally +into contempt.</p> + +<p class='c012'>“After the 2d December in the +year 1851,” says Mr Kinglake, in +concluding the portion of his work +relating to the <i><span lang="fr">coup d’état</span></i>, “the foreign +policy of France was used for +a prop to prop the throne which +Morny and his friends had built +up.... Therefore, although I +have dwelt awhile upon a singular +passage in the domestic history of +France, I have not digressed.” +Now, even if he could prove the necessities +of the French Empire to +have been the main motive of the +part England took in the war, we +should still dispute this. No doubt +it is the business of the historian of +an important series of events to +trace them to their sources, and the +more clearly he can show the connection +hidden from ordinary minds, +the more sagacious and ingenious +he will appear. But if there were +no limit to this, the history of any +event might spread to an extent altogether +boundless; and therefore, +to justify digression, it is necessary +for the historian to show that the +incidents which led to the result +had a necessary and not an accidental +influence in procuring it. +For instance, in the case of a popular +uprising against a despotism or +a superstition, it would be expected +that the historian should trace all +the successive steps by which the +national feelings were roused from +suffering to resistance, because +those steps led inevitably and naturally +to that particular result, and +not to any other. In such a case +history is performing her proper +function of explaining, for the guidance +of posterity, the obscure process +by which certain conditions +produce certain effects. But where +a war has been caused by the caprice +and unreasoning anger of a +potentate, it is beside the purpose +to trace up to his very cradle the +effect of early mismanagement or +neglect in rendering him passionate +or capricious, for no political lesson +can be taught where results cannot +be calculated. In such a case it +will be sufficient to state the fact, +that the war originated in the irascible +temper and unaccountable +impulse of one who had the power +to give his anger such tremendous +vent. It would be absurd to pause +in the history, and to introduce his +biography, merely to prove that it +is a bad thing when great power is +lodged in the hands of a person +who is the slave of violent caprice. +And in the present instance, if it +had been stated in two sentences +that the conditions under which +the French Empire had started into +existence were such as to render a +foreign war, or a commanding position +in Europe, necessary to its +stability, the statement would have +fully satisfied the requirements of +history, and would have received +general assent.</p> + +<p class='c012'>However, having considered it necessary +to prove this proposition by +a separate history of the transition +which France underwent from a +republic to an empire, Mr Kinglake +undertakes to show how we +were dragged into war by this necessitous +Emperor. He asserts +many times that the operations of +the French and English fleets caused +the war.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“The English Government,” he says, +“consented to engage in naval movements +which affected—nay governed—the +war.” And again, “The French +Emperor had no sooner engaged the +English Government in a separate understanding, +than he began to insist upon +the necessity of using the naval power +of France and England in the way which +he proposed—a way bitterly offensive to +Russia. Having at length succeeded in +forcing this measure upon England, he +after a while pressed upon her another +movement of the fleets still more hostile +than the first, and again he succeeded +in bringing the English Government to +yield to him. Again, and still once +again, he did the like, always in the end +bringing England to adopt his hostile +measures; and he never desisted from +this course of action, until at last it had +effected a virtual rupture between the +Czar and the Western Powers.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>And in this way throughout these +transactions the Emperor plays a +part much the same as that which +Satan took in the scenes in Paradise; +and at every turn we see him +moving deviously, quite serpentine +in craft and baseness, or squatting +toad-like at the ear of the slumbering +British Government, till now, +at the Ithuriel touch of history, he +starts up in his true form of malignant +demon.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The various items of the present +charge against him are collected by +Mr Kinglake in a compendious +form:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“Not yet as part of this narrative, +but by way of anticipation, and in order +to gather into one page the grounds of +the statement just made, the following +instances are given of the way in which +the English Government was, from time +to time, driven to join with the French +Emperor in making a quarrelsome use +of the two fleets:—On the 13th of July +1853, the French Emperor, through his +Minister of Foreign Affairs, declared to +the English Government that if the occupation +of the Principalities continued, +the French fleet could not longer remain +at Besica Bay. On the 19th of August +he declared it to be absolutely necessary +that the combined fleets should enter +the Dardanelles, and he pressed the English +Government to adopt a resolution to +this effect. On the 21st of September +he insisted that the English Government, +at the same moment as the French, +should immediately order up the combined +squadrons to Constantinople. On +the 15th of December he pressed the +English Government to agree that the +Allied fleets should enter the Euxine, +take possession of it, and interdict the +passage of every Russian vessel. It will +be seen that, with more or less reluctance +and after more or less delay, these +demands were always acceded to by England: +and the course thus taken by the +maritime Powers was fatal to the pending +negotiations; for, besides that in +the way already shown the Czar’s wholesome +fears were converted into bursts of +rage, the Turks at the same time were +deriving a dangerous encouragement from +the sight of the French and English war-flags; +and the result was, that the negotiators, +with all their skill and all +their patience, were never able to frame +a Note in the exact words which would +allay the anger of Nicholas, without encountering +a steadfast resistance on the +part of the Sultan.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>We have only, then, to take in +their turn the items thus enumerated +to ascertain the justice of the +charge. The first of the naval movements +was the advance of the fleets +to Besica Bay. This made the +Czar very angry. But it was in itself +a perfectly lawful operation, +and quite consistent with friendliness +and desire for peace. It by +no means balanced the aggressive +advance of the Czar into the Principalities +and the orders to the Sebastopol +fleet. Moreover, however +irritating to Nicholas, he condoned +it, for we find him long afterwards +accepting the Vienna Note framed +by the four Powers, the acceptance +of which by Turkey would have +settled the dispute. That it was +not accepted by Turkey was due +entirely to Lord Stratford and the +Turkish Ministers. “The French +Emperor,” says Mr Kinglake, “did +nothing whatever to thwart the restoration +of tranquillity.” It is +evident, then, that the movements +of the fleets thus far had produced +no effect which was not completely +neutralised, and that the Emperor’s +desire for war did not prevent him +from contributing to the general +effort for peace.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The next movement of the fleets +was into the Dardanelles. The +Sultan was engaged by treaty to +forbid the entrance of the fleets of +any Power so long as he should be +at peace. What, then, were the reasons +for entering the Straits? Were +they purely provocative? Now, we +find that the demand for war on +the part of the Turkish people had +at this time become so urgent, that +the Ambassadors to the Porte regarded +it as almost irresistible. The +French Ambassador viewed it, Mr +Kinglake says, “with <em>sincere</em> alarm.” +He wrote a despatch to his Government, +imparting to it what we must +admit to have been also “sincere +alarm,” for there is no evidence or +insinuation of the contrary; and +that alarm being shared by our +Government, the fleets were ordered +to enter the Dardanelles that +they might be ready, if wanted, to +support the Turkish Government +against the belligerent wishes of its +own subjects.</p> + +<p class='c012'>But another important circumstance +had occurred before the +entry of the fleets. In invading +the Principalities, the Czar had announced +that this was not meant as +an act of war. And the Sultan’s +hold on these provinces was of such +an anomalous kind that his advisers +held him to be at liberty to construe +the invasion as an act of war, +or not, at his own pleasure. He +had now given notice to the Czar +that unless the Russian troops +should quit the Principalities in +fifteen days he would declare war. +Fourteen of the fifteen days had +elapsed when the fleets entered. +Except for observing the strict +letter of the treaty, it was not of +the least importance whether they +entered a day sooner or later. Yet +Mr Kinglake tells us the Czar was +very indignant at the violation of +the treaty, and he laments that another +day was not suffered to elapse +before the movement. Now, considering +all the circumstances—that +the fleets had already been for a +long time at the disposal of the +Ambassadors, who might summon +them to Constantinople whenever +they judged necessary, and that the +Czar knew it—that war steamers +had already been called up to the +Bosphorus by both the Ambassadors, +French and English, and the +treaty thus broken as completely as +by the passage of a hundred fleets—that +the Czar had himself, by the +invasion of the Principalities, deprived +himself of the right to complain +of the violation of the treaty—that +fifteen days’ notice of a declaration +of war had been given, +and that the full term must have +expired before the fleets could arrive +at Constantinople—considering all +this, the provocation is reduced to +such an infinitesimal quantity, that +it is barely worth a passing mention. +There is no evidence whatever +that the prospects of peace +were in any way affected by the +advance of the fleets. Yet a hasty +reader of Mr Kinglake’s narrative +might easily imagine that it produced +the direst consequences. “When the +tidings of this hostile measure,” he +says, “reached St Petersburg, they +put an end for the time to all prospect +of peace.” And again—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“The Czar received tidings of the +hostile decision of the maritime Powers +in a spirit which, this time at least, was +almost justified by the provocation given. +In retaliation for what he would naturally +look upon as a bitter affront, and +even as a breach of treaty, he determined, +it would seem, to have vengeance +at sea whilst vengeance at sea was still +possible; and it was under the spur of +the anger thus kindled that orders for +active operations were given to the fleet +at Sebastopol. The vengeance he meditated +he could only wreak upon the body +of the Turks, for the great offenders of +the West were beyond the bounds of his +power.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>Would not the reader imagine +from this that the attack of Sinope +had been proved by full evidence to +be the immediate result of the exasperation +of the Czar at the advance +of the combined fleets? But Mr +Kinglake acquaints us in a note +with the real grounds on which he +makes this confident assertion:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“This conclusion is drawn from dates. +The hostile resolution of the Western +Powers was known to the Czar a little +before the 14th of October, and about +the middle of the following month the +Black Sea fleet was at sea. If allowance +be made for distance and preparation, it +will be seen that the sequence of one +event upon the other is close enough to +warrant the statement contained in the +text. In the absence, however, of any +knowledge to the contrary, it is fair to +suppose that the Czar remembered his +promise, and did not sanction any actual +attack upon the enemy unless his commanders +should be previously apprised +that the Turks had commenced active +warfare.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>We read this note with surprise. +It proves that Mr Kinglake can, +when in hot pursuit of the foe, step +to a conclusion over grounds where +few can follow. The fleets entered +the Dardanelles on the 22d October. +The attack of Sinope took place on +the 30th November. The Turks +and Russians had been at war for +six weeks; and though the Russian +Minister had announced in a circular +some time before, that the +Czar, in hopes still of a peaceful +solution, would remain on the defensive +as long as his dignity and +interests would allow, yet, as Mr +Kinglake himself says, “After the +issue of the circular, the Government +of St Petersburg had received +intelligence not only that active +warfare was going on in the valley +of the Lower Danube, but that the +Turks had seized the Russian fort +of St Nicholas on the eastern coast +of the Euxine, and were attacking +Russia upon her Armenian frontier;” +and he fully absolves the +Czar from any breach of faith in +this matter. Yet he would gravely +have us believe that the attack of +the ships of one Power upon those +of another with which it is at open +war requires explanation, and that +the most natural explanation possible +is to be found in attributing +it to a slow retaliation for an imaginary +injury inflicted by two other +Powers. It is as if we should be +told that, in the early rounds of a +celebrated pugilistic encounter, Mr +Sayers had hit Mr Heenan very +hard in the eye, not because they +were fighting, but because one of +the bystanders had previously trodden +on the champion’s coat.</p> + +<p class='c012'>As the reader will probably decline +to follow Mr Kinglake over his +slender bridge of inference, we must +look beyond Sinope for the naval +movement instigated by the French +Emperor and turning the scale in +favour of war; and, as only one remains +to be accounted for, we have +not far to look. The next orders +sent to the fleets were intended to +obviate another disaster and disgrace +such as that of Sinope. They +provided that Russian ships met +with in the Euxine should be requested, +and, if necessary, constrained, +to return to Sebastopol. +This, Mr Kinglake terms “a harsh +and insulting course of action.” +He says the English Cabinet during +their deliberations “were made +acquainted with the will of the +French Emperor; ... the pressure +of the French Emperor was +the cogent motive which governed +the result; ... the result was that +now, for the second time, France +dictated to England the use that +she should make of her fleet, and +by this time, perhaps, submission +had become more easy than it was +at first.” But Lord Clarendon has +been quoted by Mr Kinglake as +saying, months before, that it had +become the duty of England to defend +Turkey. According to Mr +Kinglake, when independent Powers +are acting together, to propose is to +dictate, and to acquiesce is to submit. +To make a suggestion is imperious, +and to adopt it is ignominious. +But what kind of an alliance +would this be? or how would concert +be possible under such circumstances? +The proposal of the +French Emperor was so offered as +to show that he was thoroughly +convinced of its expediency. If he +was so convinced, he was right so to +offer it. And why did the English +Ministry adopt it? Because the +English people more than kept +pace with the wishes of the Emperor. +“A huge obstacle,” says the +historian, “to the maintenance of +peace in Europe was raised up by +the temper of the English people; ... the English desired war.” It +is strange doctrine then, that an +English Ministry which, by assenting +to the proposition of an ally, +expresses the temper of the English +people, thereby submits to foreign +dictation.</p> + +<p class='c012'>But the strangest part of the +French part of the story is behind. +We have seen how Mr Kinglake +traces from the first the devious +wiles of the French Emperor—how +it was his craft that first made +the question of the Holy Places +important—how his “subtle and +dangerous counsels” hurried England +into war, and all because war +was necessary to the stability of his +throne. The complicated texture +of his intrigue is followed and +traced with immense patience and +ingenuity; and yet, when the work +is complete, and his imperial victim +stands fully detected and exposed +as the incendiary of Europe, +the detective suddenly destroys his +own finely-spun web at a blow. +England was the tool of the French +Emperor, but the French Emperor +was the tool of a still more astute +and potent personage. “When the +Czar began to encroach upon the +Sultan, there was nothing that could +so completely meet Lord Palmerston’s +every wish as an alliance between +the two Western Powers, +which should toss France headlong +into the English policy of +upholding the Ottoman Empire.... +As he (Lord Palmerston) +from the first had willed it, so +moved the two great nations of the +West.” The elaborated structure +of French intrigue falls, and our +gay perennial Premier is discovered +smiling amid the ruins. Thus Punch +murders his wife and infant, hangs +the executioner, and shines as the +dexterous and successful villain, till, +at the close of the piece, Mr Codlin, +the real wire-puller, draws aside +the curtain and appears at the bottom +of the show, while the great +criminal and his victims revert to +their proper condition of sawdust +and tinsel.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The terms of the alliance between +France and England are surely not +difficult to understand. The policy +of upholding the Ottoman Empire +was, as Mr Kinglake says, “an +English policy.” The object for +which the Governments of France +and England were actively united +was an English object. Naturally +we inquire what inducement the +Emperor had then to form the +alliance? Mr Kinglake furnishes +us with the correct response. It +seemed, he says, to the Emperor +“that, by offering to thrust France +into an English policy, he might +purchase for himself an alliance +with the Queen, and win for his +new throne a sanction of more lasting +worth than Morny’s well-warranted +return of his eight millions +of approving Frenchmen. Above +all, if he could be united with England, +he might be able to enter upon +that conspicuous action in Europe +which was needful for his safety at +home, and might do this without +bringing upon himself any war of a +dangerous kind.” The advantages +of the alliance were to be reciprocal. +The Emperor was to gain in +position and reputation, in return +for aiding with his fleets and armies +the attainment of an English object. +Mutual interest and mutual compromise +were the basis of this, as of +most alliances. We had not to accuse +the Emperor of any breach of +faith in executing his part of the +compact. Being already, as Lord +Clarendon said, committed to the +defence of Turkey, it made a vast +difference to us whether we should +enter on a war with Russia alone, +or should be aided by the immense +power of France. And it was only +fair that the Emperor should be allowed +to occupy, in the transactions +which ensued, that position, +the attainment of which was his +grand object in seeking the alliance. +Yet Mr Kinglake blames this +necessitous potentate because he did +not sacrifice his position and himself +to our interests—because he did not +chivalrously place his army and navy +at our service for the promotion of +English policy, and remain quietly +in the background, with his generous +feelings for his reward; and he +blames our own Government for +making those compromises which +alone could render the alliance possible.</p> + +<p class='c012'>And here, we rejoice to say, our +serious differences with Mr Kinglake +end. After so much entertainment +and instruction as we have +derived from his book, it seems +almost ungrateful to make to it so +many exceptions. But if we have +occupied much of our space thus, +he must remember that it takes +longer to argue than to acquiesce. +Moreover, it is partly owing to his +own excellences that we have been +able to find matter for dispute. +Many a writer would have so muddled +his facts and his prejudices +that we should have found it hard +to do more than suspect the presence +of error in the cloudy medium. +But his style is so clear, so +precise, that the reasoning everywhere +shines through, and a fallacy +or an inconsistency has no +more chance of escaping detection +than a gold fish in a crystal aquarium. +And besides, Mr Kinglake +himself most honestly and liberally +furnishes us with the facts, and +even the inferences, necessary to +rectify his theory. Thus the effect, +in his history, of his hostility to +the Emperor is not that of a +false proportion in a rule of three, +which extends and vitiates the +whole process. It is only like a +series of erroneous items introduced +in a sum in addition, which +may be separated and deducted, +leaving the total right.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The course of the transactions +that led to the war may then be +traced as clearly as diplomacy, +dealing with many great interests +and many unseen motives, generally +permits. The squabble about +the Holy Places was not the origin +but only the pretext of the dispute +with Turkey. The conversations +with Sir Hamilton Seymour and +the mission of Mentschikoff prove +that the Czar was already seeking +to dislocate the fabric of the Turkish +Empire, and only took that lever +because it lay readiest to his hand. +“A crowd of monks,” says Mr +Kinglake, in his picturesque way, +“with bare foreheads, stood quarrelling +for a key at the sunny gates +of a church in Palestine, but beyond +and above, towering high in +the misty North, men saw the ambition +of the Czars.” But the real +design could not long be hidden by +the pretext. And the execution of +that design would be subversive of +that balance which it was the duty +and interest of the other Powers to +maintain. It was for the Czar, then, +to choose a time for his project when +he might find each of the other +Powers restrained by some counteracting +motive from opposing his +ambition. Looking over Europe, +he thought that he perceived the +favourable moment. Austria, the +Power most interested from her contiguity, +and from the importance to +her of free use of the great waterway +of Southern Germany, if she +had much reason to resist, had also +much reason to acquiesce. She still +felt too keenly, financially and politically, +the effects of the heavy blows +dealt her in 1848–9 to be ready or +willing for war. She was under a +huge debt of gratitude to Nicholas, +who, in the hour of her direst necessity, +had advanced to save her, +without condition and without reward. +He possessed, too, a great +personal ascendancy over the young +Emperor of Austria. And, lastly, +at this time Austria had a hostile +altercation with Turkey, which +would render it more than ever +difficult for her to take part with +the Sultan.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It might be calculated that Prussia +would follow the lead of Austria. +Her interests were the same +in kind, but far less in degree. +Once satisfied that full guarantees +for the freedom of the Danube +would be given, she would no +longer have special interest in the +subject.</p> + +<p class='c012'>As to France, there seemed to be +no special reason why she should +interfere. And if she should interfere, +the Czar’s sentiments towards +the new Empire were such as +would rather lead him to disdainful +defiance than conciliation.</p> + +<p class='c012'>At first he anticipated no difficulty +in persuading the English +Government to join in his designs. +Finding, however, by the rejection +of his overtures, that he could not +hope for the support of England, +he probably postponed the extreme +measures of aggression. But, for +the reasons we have stated in a +former paragraph, he was unwilling +to let the opportunity pass totally +unimproved; and hence the demands +of Mentschikoff for granting +the protectorate of the Greek +Church in Turkey to the Czar.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It was Lord Stratford’s share in +the diplomatic contest that ensued, +which first gave England prominence +in the dispute. And whether +the part he took was in accordance +with instructions from his Government, +or was due to the influence +of his personal character, the result +was to assure England that the predominance +of her Ambassador in the +councils of the Porte, whatever advantage +it might confer, carried +with it grave responsibility. When +Mentschikoff withdrew in anger +from the scene, England was, in +the opinion of her own Ministers, +committed to the defence of Turkey.</p> + +<p class='c012'>We have seen that the Czar’s +original design was made dependent +on the concurrence of England. +When he found that this +was unattainable, the design was +modified. He now found that even +in this modified form England +would not only not concur, but +would oppose it. Why then did +he persist? It was because he did +not believe that the opposition of +England would go the length of +war.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Lord Aberdeen, the English +Premier, besides being the personal +friend of Nicholas, and therefore +disposed to view Russian policy +with comparative indulgence, was +the open and professed friend of +peace at any price. He had that +horror of war which in a statesman +is an unpardonable and fatal weakness. +And in this particular he +was believed only to represent the +feeling of the English people. The +Czar, in common with most of the +world, was convinced that they +were entirely absorbed in the pursuit +of commerce. He took the +Exhibition of 1851 for the national +confession of faith. He believed +that England had no god but gold, +and that Mr Cobden was her prophet.</p> + +<p class='c012'>This fallacy Mr Kinglake exposes +in his happiest style:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“All England had been brought to +the opinion that it was a wickedness to +incur war without necessity or justice; +but when the leading spirits of the Peace +Party had the happiness of beholding +this wholesome result, they were far +from stopping short. They went on to +make light of the very principles by +which peace is best maintained, and +although they were conscientious men, +meaning to say and do what was right, +yet, being unacquainted with the causes +which bring about the fall of empires, +they deliberately inculcated that habit +of setting comfort against honour which +historians call ‘corruption.’ They made +it plain, as they imagined, that no war +which was not engaged in for the actual +defence of the country could ever be +right; but even there they took no rest, +for they went on and on, and still on, +until their foremost thinker reached the +conclusion that, in the event of an attack +upon our shores, the invaders +ought to be received with such an effusion +of hospitality and brotherly love as +could not fail to disarm them of their +enmity, and convert the once dangerous +Zouave into the valued friend of the +family. Then, with great merriment, +the whole English people turned round, +and although they might still be willing +to go to the brink of other precipices, +they refused to go further towards that +one. The doctrine had struck no root. +It was ill suited to the race to whom it +was addressed. The male cheered it, +and forgot it until there came a time +for testing it, and then discarded it; +and the woman, from the very first, +with her true and simple instinct, was +quick to understand its value. She +would subscribe, if her husband required +it, to have the doctrine taught to +charity children, but she would not +suffer it to be taught to her own boy. +So it proved barren.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>Caustic as this is, it is only too +indulgent to the Peace Party. Not +that it is of special importance now +to crush what is already so depressed +and abased as to have lost its +power of mischief. The course of +the leaders of the party has been +such that they could not continue +to enjoy any large measure of popularity, +except upon the anomalous +condition that a great number of +Englishmen should join in hating +England. For years past no petulant +despotism, no drunken republic, +could shake its coarse fist in the +face of this country, without finding +its warmest supporters in those +men of the olive branch, who were +never weary of urging us to offer +both cheeks to the smiter. Their +mode of interference in a quarrel is +like that of the affectionate friends, +who, if a man were attacked, would +cling round him and hamper him, +reviling him for his pugnacity, +while his adversary ran him through +the body. Long fallen from their +position as oracles, they lie at the +base of their tall pedestals, and +“none so poor as do them reverence.” +But, in granting them honesty +of purpose, Mr Kinglake falls, +we think, into the now common +error of pushing candour to excess. +A man’s mistakes are honest when +he is led into them by motives irrespective +of his interests. The fanatic +who sacrifices his own advantage +along with that of other people +cannot be accused of baseness. But +these men had a direct interest in +preaching the doctrine of the necessity +of national poltroonery. The +substitution of a purely commercial +policy for that which the nation had +hitherto followed, was intimately +blended with their own personal +advantage. The motive, therefore, +that inspired the error renders it +inexcusable.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Blind, then, to consequences, the +Czar continued his course of aggression. +He marched his troops +into the Principalities. Thereupon, +no longer opposed only by England, +he finds himself met by the concerted +action of the four great +Powers. And the question of interest +at this particular stage is, +Whether the primary object of defending +Turkey was to be best attained +by the action of the four +Powers, or by the increased decision +in action of England and +France. Now it is to be observed, +that the Czar knew long before he +occupied the Principalities that +Austria would resist the step. Yet +the united remonstrance of the four +Powers had failed to induce him to +abandon it. And it also failed +afterwards to induce him to retract +it. Through remonstrance, +opposition, and the earlier stages of +the war, he continued to hold the +provinces. It becomes then a question, +when we are considering the +statement that the peaceful pressure +of the four Powers would +have attained our object in the most +desirable way, whether a course of +action so slow was consistent with +our engagement to defend Turkey. +It is a matter at least open to +doubt.</p> + +<p class='c012'>But granting that either the slow +action of Austria, or the more decisive +policy of France, would have +equally availed, if adopted by common +consent, was that unanimity +possible? Austria had many reasons +for limiting her interference to +diplomatic pressure. Moreover, her +ground of complaint against Russia +was the occupation of the Principalities, +not the threatening of Turkey. +Should Russia adopt some +other method of coercing Turkey, +such as sending her fleet into the +Bosphorus, and withdrawing her +troops from the provinces, the interest +of Austria in the dispute +would almost vanish, while that of +the Western Powers would increase. +And how would it suit France to +adopt the course of Austria, and to +aim at a settlement by united action? +The French Emperor’s great +inducement in joining in the dispute +at all was the prospect of increased +reputation. And when the +figure representing the credit to be +gained by joint diplomatic coercion +came to be divided by four, would +the quotient satisfy his expectations? +It is not too much to say +that England was compelled to +choose between France and Austria, +since it was unlikely they would +long continue in a common course. +And as the action of England in +a war with Russia must be principally +through her fleet, it became +of immense importance that the +French navy should act with us +rather than be neutral or hostile. +In such circumstances, then, it is +by no means clear that we did +wrong in holding with France.</p> + +<p class='c012'>From this period, then, it becomes +apparent that, if Russia +should persist in aggression, war +was inevitable. And Russia did +persist in aggression. And if it +be considered as established that +the Czar was led so to persist by +a conviction that England would +not resort to war—which is the +general and probably correct opinion—we +do not see how it can +be denied that a course of action +which must undeceive him would +be the most likely to cause him +to desist; and that the naval +movements that ensued were only +such as would convince him of our +intention without driving him to +extremity. It is plain that the +two theories—one of which is that +the pacific disposition of our Government +allowed us to drift into +war, and the other that our menacing +action irritated the Czar beyond +control, and therefore caused the +war—are incompatible.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The fleets then moved to the +entrance of the Dardanelles; and, +while the Czar was recovering from +the anger produced by that step, +the representatives of the four +Powers in conference at Vienna +produced their Note, a mediatory +document which would, it was hoped, +settle all difficulties. It was +readily accepted by Russia, the +reason for which became apparent +when it was offered to Turkey; for +the Turkish Government at once +rejected it, on the ground that it +might be so interpreted as to secure +to the Czar the protectorate he aimed +at. They proposed alterations, with +the concurrence of the mediatory +Powers, which the Czar in his turn +rejected; and the Sultan thereupon +declared that, if the provinces were +not evacuated in fifteen days, Turkey +would be at war with Russia. +The fleets moved through the Dardanelles. +The next step was the +attack on the Turkish squadron at +Sinope by the Russian admiral. +The English people were now thoroughly +roused. They were indignant, +not so much at the breach of +faith imputed to the Czar in making +the attack, as at the ruthless destruction +and slaughter of the Turkish +force by its far more powerful +enemy. The attack, too, had taken +place almost under the guns of the +combined fleets, and it was evident +that, if their presence at Constantinople +meant anything, and if we +really were engaged to defend Turkey, +the repetition of such a disaster +to our ally must be prevented. +A measure to this effect, but by no +means strong enough to express +the feeling of England, was adopted; +the combined fleets were ordered +by their respective governments to +keep the peace by force, if necessary, +in the Euxine. But as there +had been as yet no actual collision +between their forces and those of +the Czar, a door to peace was still +left open. Of this he did not +choose to avail himself, but declared +war against France and England +on the 11th April 1854.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Such is an outline of the successive +events preceding the war which, +unpromising as such a record of +futile diplomacy may seem, Mr +Kinglake has wrought into one of the +most brilliant of historical pictures. +‘Eothen’ itself is not more entertaining, +more rich in colour, more +happy in quaint and humorous +turns of expression; while, from +the false effects that are sometimes +seen in the earlier work, the present +narrative is entirely free. The style +is indeed a model of ease, strength, +clearness, and simplicity. Nor has +labour been spared; and the reader +who has so often been expected by +historians to be already familiar with +political and diplomatic lore, and has +been left to repair his deficiencies +as he may, will be grateful to Mr +Kinglake for some of the elementary +instruction which he has conveyed +in such a delightful form, as, for +instance, the chapter on “the usage +which forms the safeguard of +Europe.” And remembering what +animation and vigour personal feeling, +even when so strongly biased, +cannot fail to infuse, and seeing +that, in the present case, it has not +prevented the writer from fully +stating the facts and deductions +which most contradict his favourite +theories, we cease to lament the +absence of that judicial calmness +which would have deprived his history +of half its charm.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The first glowing scenes now +shift to one still more splendid. +Diplomacy has played out its part; +its subtlest essays seem but mere +babble to the ear that is listening +for the impending clang of arms. +Statesmen and ambassadors gather +up their futile documents, and retire +to the side scenes, to make +way for the sterner disputants who +throng the stage.</p> + +<p class='c012'>If Mr Kinglake was unsparing +in his denunciations of French intrigue, +he is no less bold and outspoken +in criticising the military +merits of our allies. But we no +longer find the same reasons for +dissenting from his conclusions. +Many, no doubt, will say that it +would have been politic to suppress +some of those revelations which +will jar most on the sensitive ears +of our neighbours. But, if history +is to be written at all, it must be +written with all the truth attainable. +History, which conceals and +glosses, is but historical romance. +Moreover, a plain English statement +was wanting to redress the balance +between us and the French. It +must not be forgotten that the example +of writing a narrative apportioning +to both parties in the alliance +the sum of glory gained was set in +France, and that a share, ridiculously +small, was awarded to the English. +We remonstrated at the time, +in these pages, against the unfairness +and impolicy of allowing such +a book as De Bazancourt’s to go +forth to the world with the seeming +sanction of the Emperor, at a time +when the war was yet unfinished. +A man of no reputation or ability +to justify the selection had been +accredited to the French generals +in the Crimea. Furnished thus with +information, which might be presumed +to be reliable, he produced a +narrative in which the entire credit +for the planning and execution of +the successful operations of the war +was assigned to the French with +impudent mendacity. As might +naturally be expected from a nation +that believes in Thiers, his account +was accepted by the French +as veritable history. In England +it was but little read. Contemptible +as a composition, its representations +of facts were not such as to +give it a claim to which nothing +else entitled it. But, so far as it +was read here, it gave just offence. +That the Emperor did not disapprove +is shown by the fact that the +same valuable chronicler was taken +to Italy as historiographer of the +war in 1859, when another compound +of bombastic glorification +and misrepresentation was given to +the world under imperial auspices. +No Englishman or candid Frenchman +who reads the account of the +Crimean Campaign by the Baron +De Bazancourt will deny that it +was incumbent on us to tell our +own tale; and we rejoice that it is +told by one who, with such remarkable +faculty for charming an audience +and imparting to it his own +impressions, trusts, nevertheless, to +facts and proofs derived from the +documents intrusted to him, for +supporting his claim for justice.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The long European peace had left +the armies of the Great Powers +with little except a traditional +knowledge of civilised war. It is +true that part of the English army +had seen service in India; a large +portion of the French troops had +made campaigns in Algeria; and +the Russians had for years carried +on a desultory warfare in Circassia. +But none of these theatres of operations +had been of a kind to serve +as schools of training for encounters +with a disciplined foe. Nor +had they developed amidst the +officers that high talent for superior +commands to which either country +could turn with confidence. Accordingly, +the English fell back +upon their traditions of the old +wars of Wellington, as embodied in +his friend Lord Raglan. Whether +he was likely to make a great general +or not, it was impossible for +anybody to say, for his career had +not been such as to offer any field +for the display of the talents requisite +in a commander. Sixty-six +is not perhaps the most favourable +age for a first essay in any walk in +life. But it was known that he +was accustomed to military business; +that his conciliatory and courteous +manners would be of great +service in an allied army, and that +his rank and dignity would ensure +the respect necessary for the maintenance +of our proper position in +the alliance; while, if he had +not commanded armies himself, +he had been intimate with him +whom we regarded as the commander +without a peer. The +French had no available relics of +the wars of the First Empire; and +if any such had existed, there +were other claimants to be considered, +namely, those soldiers of +fortune to whom the Emperor was +under obligations for their share in +the <em><span lang="fr"><span lang="fr">coup <a id='t372'></a>d’état</span></span></em>. The claims of St +Arnaud surpassed all others. He +was a frothy, vainglorious, gallant +man, who had never shown capacity +for any operation more considerable +than a raid against the Arabs. His +published letters breathe a high +ambition and spirit of enterprise, +but do not reveal any rare military +quality. Lord Russell himself could +not be more ready to take the lead +in any description of onerous undertaking. +But his self-confidence +seems to have had no deeper root +than vanity; for, whereas his letters +to his relations are full of the great +part he is playing, or means to play, +neither his acts, nor the official records +of his doings as Commander +of the French army, corroborate the +views of his own pre-eminence +which he imparted to his family. +Mr Kinglake drily accounts for the +selection of this commander by saying +that he was ambitious of leading +the enterprise, and that “the +French Emperor took him at his +word, consenting, as was very natural, +that his dangerous, insatiate +friend, should have a command +which would take him into the +country of the Lower Danube.” If +it is by this intended we should infer +that the wily potentate expected +the climate to disagree with him, +the anticipation was fulfilled; for a +frame already weakened by long +disease broke up entirely under the +assault of the fever of Varna. The +Russians possessed a fine old remnant +of antiquity in Prince Paskiewitch, +which was furbished up, and +did very well till, meeting with a +mischance before Silistria, at the +outset of the war, he vanished, and +the effort to supply his place with a +creditable general was not successful. +As regards military talent, +then, it would not seem that either +belligerent possessed an advantage +which would preclude Fortune from +exercising her proverbial function +of favouring the brave.</p> + +<p class='c012'>While the English and French +troops were on the way to Turkey, +the Russians had opened an offensive +campaign. The method of doing +this was prescribed to them by +the features of the theatre of war. The +Danube, flowing round Wallachia, +turns northward and meets the +Pruth, so as to include between the +two rivers and the sea a narrow +strip; the part of which, north of +the Danube, is a Russian province, +Bessarabia, and that south of the +Danube a Turkish province, the +Dobrudja. Should the Russians +seek to pass into Turkey through +Wallachia, they would lend a flank to +an attack from Austria, if she were +to carry her hostility to the point of +war, and their troops would be very +critically placed between Austrian +and Turkish foes. But by advancing +along the strip the Russians +passed at once from Russian to +Turkish territory; while the Danube +covered their right flank from Austria. +Still, in order to proceed beyond +the Dobrudja in the direction +of the Balkan, and thence towards +Constantinople, as they had done +with such signal success in 1829, it +was indispensable that they should +begin by taking Silistria—and more +than ever indispensable now that +the Allies had command of the +Euxine. Accordingly, the opening +of the campaign was marked by the +siege of Silistria by the Russians.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Although it soon appeared that +Silistria was bravely defended, it +was not expected that the fortress +could hold out long. And therefore, +in anticipation of such decisive +movements as those of 1829, the +first intention of the Allies was to +fortify Gallipoli, thus securing the +Dardanelles as a channel of supply, +and the Chersonese peninsula as a +secure base from whence to operate +in Turkey. But it soon appeared +that Russia was stumbling at the +first obstacle. Gallipoli, therefore, +ceased to be of present importance; +and the next idea was to transport +the armies to that point from +whence they could most speedily +meet the enemy. And that point +was evidently Varna.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Mr Kinglake chronicles two facts +relating to this period, not hitherto +published, and the knowledge of +both of which he probably derived +(certainly of one) from Lord Raglan’s +papers. The first is the project +of St Arnaud to obtain command +of the Turkish forces. How +this was defeated is recorded in +one of Mr Kinglake’s most characteristic +passages, where the lively, +pushing, aspiring Marshal finds his +confidence in his own scheme suddenly +evaporating before the grave +dignified courtesy of Lord Stratford, +and the mildly implied disapproval +of Lord Raglan. The other +is, that, after the embarkation was +agreed on, St Arnaud suddenly announced, +that he should move his +army by land to the south of the +Balkan; and that, according to his +plan, the English should take the +left of the proposed strategical line, +and therefore be farthest from their +supplies coming from sea. This +scheme, also, he relinquished; but +the fact is notable, first, as showing +the propensity to take what +advantage he could at the expense +of his ally; and secondly, as correcting +the view of his own predominance +and superior earnestness +for action, conveyed in his private +correspondence and in De Bazancourt’s +narrative.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The armies landed at Varna, and +a campaign in Bulgaria was expected. +“My plan is,” quoth St +Arnaud, “to save the fortress, and +to push the Russians into the +Danube.” He tells his brother in +Paris, that the operation of moving +to aid Silistria will be hazardous, +for the Russians may come down +on his right and rear, seize the +road of Varna and Pravadi, and +cut him off from the sea. “But, be +easy,” he says consolingly, “I have +taken my precautions against the +manœuvre, and I will defeat it.” +Not difficult to defeat, one might +think, since the enemy who should +attempt it must be commanded by +a lunatic. However, while the +Allies were still waiting in vain for +the means of transport to take the +field, their difficulties and projects +were ended by an unlooked for +incident. The Russians, finding +the outermost barrier of Turkey +impregnable, raised the siege, and +withdrew across the Danube. The +immense amount of military reputation +which they thereby lost was +placed with interest to the credit +of the Turks. But the position in +which the Allied Generals found +themselves, thus hurrying to save +a fortress which saved itself, and +left without an enemy, was extremely +bewildering. St Arnaud +seems characteristically to have +imagined that the Russians were +frightened by his reputation into +retreat. “They fly me,” he says, +while lamenting the loss of a triumph +for himself and his army, +which he had contemplated as certain. +Not only the Generals but +their Governments were embarrassed +and mortified at being thus +baulked. The Emperor’s object +could not be attained by mere success +without glory. The British +people, already impatient of delays, +the causes of which, though +inevitable, they could not understand, +were clamorous for action. +Nor did they content themselves +with insisting that something +should be done. They indicated +the line of action. Urged, as +Mr Kinglake contends, by the +press, they shouted with one voice +for an attack on Sebastopol, and +this measure the Government enjoined +Lord Raglan to execute. +The French Government did not +urge St Arnaud to propose the +step; but, if the English were willing +for it, he was not at liberty to +withhold his consent. Two questions +occur here: was the Government +right in thus ordering the +commander of the army to take a +step to which his own judgment +might be opposed? and was the +step thus indicated a wise one?</p> + +<p class='c012'>Now, Mr Kinglake seems to +think, that if the Government was +justified in controlling its General, +it was only because its army was +acting in concert with that of +another power, and was dependent +on the aid of the fleets.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“In common circumstances, and especially +where the whole of the troops to +be engaged are under one commander, +it cannot be right for any Sovereign or +any Minister to address such instructions +as these to a General on a distant shore; +for the General who is to be intrusted +with the sole command of a great expedition +must be, of all mankind, the best +able to judge of its military prudence, +and to give him orders thus cogent is to +dispense with his counsel.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>We, on the other hand, think +that the selection of the territory +which is to be the scene of operations, +should always rest with the +Government, and for this reason, +that the selection must depend even +more on political than on military +considerations. Suppose, for instance, +that the Allied generals had +desired to follow the enemy over +the Danube, it is evident that it +would be of vast importance in +the campaign that would follow, +whether Austria should be friendly, +or neutral, or hostile. But which +she would be was a matter of which +the Generals could only be informed +through their Governments, who +must possess the best information +attainable on the subject. And +again, the effect of the invasion of +the Crimea on Austrian counsels, +on Russian designs, and on English +and French interests, were all political +considerations, to be decided +by the Governments, and not by +the Generals. But, the territory +fixed on, the manner of operating +therein should be left to the Commander—and +this the British Government +did.</p> + +<p class='c012'>With regard to the other question, +Mr Kinglake appears to think +that, after the Russians had evacuated +the Principalities (as they +did immediately on re-crossing the +Danube), there was no further +ground for continuing the war, and +that a naval blockade would have +forced her to conclude peace. But +to have forced her to make peace, +returning to the <em>statu quo</em>, would +by no means have answered our +ends, for it would have left her to +repeat the aggression on a more +favourable opportunity, with the +advantage of better understanding +the conditions of success. That +she would have consented at that +time to give any pledge for the security +of Turkey, is incredible, if +we consider the course taken by +her diplomatists at the conferences +in the following year, when she had +suffered so severely. But to capture +Sebastopol and its fleet, would +give us the security we wanted, and +the pressure of the blockade might +then be depended on for ending +the war. The question then, in our +judgment, resolves itself into this: +Was there a reasonable hope of at +once succeeding in the object of the +invasion; and was common foresight +exercised in providing for the +possibility of failure?</p> + +<p class='c012'>Events have answered the last +question. Due provision was not +made for the possibility of a first +failure. The country was aghast +at the position in which the army +found itself; and we think that, +in making the statement we are +about to quote, Mr Kinglake is recording +a state of opinion, which, +though perfectly just, and always +maintained to be just in these pages, +both during and after the war, had +no existence at the time he speaks +of.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“Those who thought more warily +than the multitude foresaw that the enterprise +might take time; but they also +perceived that even this result would not +be one of unmixed evil; for if Russia +should commit herself to a lengthened +conflict in the neighbourhood of Sebastopol, +she would be put to a great trial, +and would see her wealth and strength +ruinously consumed by the mere stress +of the distance between the military +centre of the empire and the south-westernmost +angle of the Crimea.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>All this is true; so true that +Russia would have done well to +leave Sebastopol to its fate, rather +than make those efforts to maintain +it which were so ruinous. Moreover +the Crimea is, from its geographical +circumstances, always the +most favourable point of Russian +territory for the operations of an +enemy who commands the sea. Its +form of an extended peninsula +renders it vulnerable at many +points; it does not afford the +means of supplying the force necessary +for its defence; and the supplies +and reinforcements, having +to pass through a region that is always +a desert and sometimes a +swamp, must be despatched with +vast expense and loss. The conditions +of the theatre of operations +selected were then all in our favour; +it only remained to provide adequately +for the chances of war, to +render the enterprise judicious.</p> + +<p class='c012'>But there was no thought except +of speedy success. Beyond a +triumphant landing, battle, and +assault, no man looked. It was a +piece of national gambling where +an army was staked upon the turn +of the cards; inexcusable, therefore, +even had the chances been +still more in our favour.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Still the chances in our favour +were great. The Russian force in +the Crimea was inferior in numbers. +Sebastopol might have been captured +with the co-operation of the +fleets. That co-operation was a +main element of success. We were +deprived of it by Mentschikoff’s +stroke of sinking his ships, so as to +block the harbour and exclude the +fleets. Was this a step, the possibility +of which the Government of +a great maritime nation ought to +have omitted from its calculations? +It was not difficult—it was even +obvious—to anticipate that a fleet +otherwise useless might thus be +turned to account.</p> + +<p class='c012'>That the invasion was politically +a fortunate step, we have no doubt. +All the sufferings, all the losses, all +the expense, and all the discontent +at home, could not prevent the +course of affairs from turning ultimately +to our advantage, because +the distresses of the enemy were far +greater. Russia at the end of the +war was absolutely prostrate, while +England was only beginning to +handle her vast and increasing resources. +But this, as it was never +contemplated, is beside the purpose +of estimating the wisdom of the +people and the Government who +committed the armies to the enterprise. +The Government is obnoxious +to the charge of not providing +for a contingency that ought to +have been foreseen, by furnishing +the means for sustained operations. +And the Government might, in +great measure, exonerate itself at +the expense of the nation. For +years before, no Member of Parliament +could have proposed an increase +on the estimates in order to +render the army an efficient engine +of war, without being covered with +obloquy. At that time, what troops +we had were barely tolerated by the +people. Considering all things, we +cannot think the step wise. But we +are very strongly of opinion that, as +a means of coercing Russia, it was +fortunate.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Many conferences between the +Allied Generals took place at Varna, +and on the voyage. No pictures +can differ more widely than those +of the attitude of St Arnaud on +these occasions, as drawn on the +one hand by himself and De Bazancourt, +on the other by Mr Kinglake. +In his own letters, and in the veracious +French Chronicle, he is the +moving spirit of the enterprise—he +“dominates the discussion”—he +infuses life into everybody—nothing +checks him except the slowness +of the English. He is feared +by the Russians, admired by the +British, adored by the French. Mr +Kinglake, on the contrary, represents +him as being in council without +decision and without weight; glad +to solve his own difficulties by deferring +to Lord Raglan; forming +plans merely to abandon them; +and painfully conscious that he has +not the hold on the respect of his +own army necessary to enforce his +authority. He had become strongly +impressed with the idea that a +landing would be best effected at +the mouth of the Katcha. It would be +nearer Sebastopol. The position on +the Alma would thus be avoided; and +the march over plains, where it might +be difficult to find water, would be +unnecessary. On the other hand +a reconnoissance made by Lord +Raglan and Sir John Burgoyne, +with the French Generals, showed +that the mouth of the valley was +narrow, that the troops as they +landed would be exposed to a flanking +fire from guns which would be, +by their position, secure from the +counter-fire of the ships, and that +the enterprise might be opposed by +the whole Russian army. These +objections seemed to Lord Raglan +so strong that he decided on landing +at Old Fort. The result showed +the correctness of the decision, for +the landing was unopposed, and +the single action of the Alma +cleared the way to Sebastopol. +Nevertheless, St Arnaud, writing +to his brother after the landing, +contends that he was right. “Observe, +brother,” he says, “I have a +military instinct which never deceives +me, and the English have +not made war since 1815.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Mr Kinglake’s account of the disembarkation +which he witnessed, of +the delay caused by the mysterious +shifting, by the French, of the buoy +that was to mark the spot for the +operation—of the different modes of +treating the villagers practised by +the English and by the French +troops, and of the march towards +the Alma, are described with the +particularity and vivacity which +might be expected from so keen an +observer, and so skilful a narrator. +He rightly describes the movement +as being of the nature of that proper +to movable columns. It was, in fact, +like the march of a convoy, where +the escort was vast, and the conditions +favourable. The conditions +were favourable, because the open +nature of the country permitted the +waggons, instead of straggling along +a great extent of road, on any part +of which they might be attacked, +to move in compact order near the +entire army. But we quite agree +with him in thinking that the Russian +leader showed great incapacity +and culpable want of enterprise in +suffering the march to proceed unmolested. +The country was particularly +favourable to cavalry, in +which arm he was greatly superior. +By incessantly threatening the left +flank he would have compelled us +to show front in that direction, and +the whole army would have been +obliged to halt, under penalty of +witnessing the defeat of a separated +portion. We could not have closed +with the force thus menacing us, +because the effort to do so would +have withdrawn us from our proper +direction, and from the sea, and because, +also, the enemy could always +retire under cover of his cavalry, to +a new position on our flank. If +Mentschikoff could have felt secure +of being able to file into position +behind the Alma, in time to oppose +us there, he might have employed +his whole army in this menacing +movement. He made only one +effort of the kind, that on the Bulganak, +where a skirmish took place; +but the demonstration was feeble, +not supported, and of no avail as a +check, because the army had always +designed to halt there for the night. +Nevertheless, the precautions taken +by Lord Raglan, in throwing back +the left flank, before bivouacking, +to meet a possible attack of the +kind, and the consequent delay in +resuming the march next morning, +show how much was to be apprehended +from such a mode of harassing +us as was open to a skilful +leader.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The ground on which the battle +of the Alma was fought is not difficult +to understand. The plain over +which the Allies advanced slopes +gently downward for a mile. At +the bottom of the slope is a bank, +and below the bank a flat valley, +three or four hundred yards wide, +in which flows the Alma. If, then, +a person turning his back to the +sea, at the mouth of the river, moves +up the Allies’ bank, he has on his +right, across the valley, for the first +mile, a steep cliff, as if part of the +coast-line had turned back along the +course of the river. The cliff then +begins to resolve itself into broken +heights, still steep, but not impracticable. +These continue for nearly +two more miles, when, the heights +receding still farther, the slope to +the river becomes more gentle, and +undulates in knolls, the general +character of the ground, however, +being an upper and lower line of +heights, with an intermediate plateau. +The ground continues of this +nature far up the stream. Everywhere +the last summits formed the +edge of a plain which could not be +seen from the Allies’ side of the +stream.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The Russian cavalry prevented +reconnoissances which would have +given some assurance of the manner +in which Mentschikoff occupied the +position. In the absence of these, +maps and plans, and a distant view, +coupled with a rough estimate of +the enemy’s force, were all that +could be relied on. With such data +as these afforded, Marshal St Arnaud +came to confer with Lord +Raglan the night before the battle; +and we must say that we think Mr +Kinglake is rather hard upon the +Marshal in his description of the +interview. He seems to think there +was something presumptuous in the +fact of his coming with a prepared +plan, bringing with him, too, a +rough sketch of it drawn on paper. +Now, that such a conference was +highly necessary between two commanders +about to fight a battle in +concert, nobody will deny. And it +is a very good thing, on such occasions, +to have a plan constructed on +the probabilities, because it serves +as a basis for discussion. The Marshal’s +plan was founded on the conjecture, +that, as the plain at the top +of the cliff could be swept by the +guns of the ships, a space would be +left near the sea unoccupied by the +Russians. Into that space he proposed +to push two divisions (Bosquet +and the Turks), by two roads +that led to it up the cliff. The remaining +divisions were to advance +against the Russian front; and he +calculated that they would occupy +so much of that front that the +movement of the British, forming +the left of the Allies, would be +against the right flank of the enemy.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Such was the plan that the Marshal +brought to discuss with Lord +Raglan. But it seems that if he +came with the hope of getting any +suggestions or ideas in exchange, he +was disappointed. “Without either +combating or accepting the suggestion +addressed to him, he simply +assured the Marshal that he might +rely upon the vigorous co-operation +of the British army. The French +plan seems to have made little impression +on Lord Raglan’s mind. +He foresaw, perhaps, that the ingenuity +of the evening would be +brought to nothingness by the +teachings of the morrow.” And +when they came next day into +presence of the enemy, Mr Kinglake +says: “If Lord Raglan had +not already rejected the French +plan of a flank attack by our forces, +it would now have fallen to the +ground. It had never made any +impression on his mind.” In a +note he says: “It became a plan +simply preposterous as soon as it +was apparent that St Arnaud would +not confront any part of the Russian +army except their left wing; for to +make two flank movements, one +against the enemy’s left, and the +other against his right, and to do +this without having any force wherewith +to confront the enemy’s centre, +would have been a plan requiring +no comment to show its absurdity.”</p> + +<p class='c012'>Now Lord Raglan’s part in the +interview is meant, as recorded, to +show to his advantage. Yet we +cannot think that this way of conducting +conferences can be considered +as displaying talent. Anybody +can appear to conceal an +opinion—even if he hasn’t got one. +The Marshal might, according to +this account, justly feel himself +aggrieved—first, for having no notice +taken of his plan; and, secondly, +for having no grounds afforded +for acting in concert with his ally +in the coming battle. Nor do we +think the plan absurd in principle, +though it was erroneous in details. +If to turn one flank of an enemy is +an advantage, to turn both flanks +will, in general, increase the advantage: +whether it is practicable depends +on the relative length of the +opposing lines. Now the Russians +had 39,000 men; the Allies had +63,000. And the English order of +battle enables our line to cover +more ground than equal numbers +of the enemy. Therefore, after +forming on an equal front, there +would still be at least 12,000 men +disposable for the turning of each +flank; and 12,000 men on your +flank is a serious matter. We say +then that the plan, which was, of +course, a suggestion, to be modified +according to circumstances, was not +in itself absurd in principle.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The Marshal, therefore, with Lord +Raglan’s concurrence, as the French +say—but, according to Mr Kinglake, +with such expectations as he +might have derived from the foregoing +not very explicit interview—proceeded +to execute his part of the +plan by making his right column +pass close to the sea. This was an +error, for it was founded on a false +assumption; he supposed the Russian +left to be nearer the sea than +it really was. He could not ascertain +the truth, because, as is not +uncommon in battles, he could not +make a close reconnoissance, and +the plain behind the cliff, being +invisible from below, might contain +an unknown number of Russians. +A computation of the forces visible +would not give certain means of +judging of this point, because troops +had been joining Mentschikoff from +various parts—a large detachment +had come in that morning.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The consequence, then, of this +error was that more of the French +line than had been expected overlapped +the Russians—so much so +that those on the extreme right +never joined in the action. Moreover, +they were on a narrower front +than their numbers warranted; for +though three divisions were in +front, and two following them, yet +the three in front formed two lines. +If the two in rear are to be considered +as a reserve, it was twice +as large as is common. Thus the +English only completed the front +necessary to correspond with the +Russian front without overlapping +it, and their attack, therefore, was +almost entirely a direct attack. The +right French column was thrown +away. The next to it only engaged +in a distant artillery fire: even the +third and fourth found themselves +opposed to a force inadequate to +their numbers. As Mr Kinglake +well observes, if all the army had +been of one nation, the direct attack +would not have been made till +that on the flank had already shaken +the enemy’s line. But circumstances +rendered it difficult to hold back +the English divisions. The French +did nothing to be proud of in the +battle. We perfectly agree with +Mr Kinglake that the official accounts +and that of De Bazancourt +are mere bombastic inventions. We +know that they were opposed by +numbers small in proportion to +their own. That some of their +divisions showed but little <em>elan</em> and +made small progress, was evident +during the battle. And with regard +to their losses, which St Arnaud +places at 1200, we do not +deny that they may have lost that +number of men that day; but if +they did, the cholera must have +been unusually severe on the 20th +September, for there were no signs +of such mortality on the battle-field.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The English then advanced, because +the French demanded support, +and because it might not have +been judicious to remain longer inactive +when our allies were engaged. +Our divisions therefore advanced +across the river. In doing so their +order was broken by several causes. +First, the vineyards and enclosures +between the troops and the river; +then the river itself; and lastly, +the fact that the divisions in deploying +had, by mistaking distance, considerably +overlapped. It is evident +that if an inferior army about to be +attacked in position could choose +how the attack should be made, it +would desire that a great part of +the enemy’s force should be directed +where it would be useless, and +that the remainder should make a +direct advance. This was what the +Allies did. But though there was +no great generalship, the soldiership +of the English was admirable. +The divisional, brigade, and regimental +officers took advantage of a +sheltering rim of ground on the opposite +bank to restore some degree +of order in the broken ranks, and +then led them straight up the slope +in the teeth of the Russian guns. +Torn by cannon-shot at close range, +and by a hail of musketry from the +numerous infantry—for here Mentschikoff +had placed his heaviest +masses—they nevertheless went on +in a line which, if irregular, was +still irresistible, drove the Russians +back, and captured a gun. Then, +being without support, having lost +heavily, and being assailed by fresh +reserves, the front line gave way +and retreated down the hill. But +by this time the Duke of Cambridge’s +division was across the +stream and moving up. The broken +masses passed through the ranks, +which closed and advanced solidly, +with the same success as the first line, +and the success was more enduring. +English guns, hitherto opposed to +the Russian artillery, were now +brought across the stream—they +were set free to do so partly by the +progress of the French on the flank, +partly by the action of two guns +that Lord Raglan had brought +across the stream in the space between +the armies, and which, taking +the Russian line in reverse, caused +it to fall back. The English divisions +thus maintained themselves—the +heavy columns that advanced +against them were repulsed partly +by artillery, partly by the fire of the +line—the Russians fell back slowly +to the top of the heights, and retreated +along the plain, pursued by +the fire of our horse-artillery. The +English batteries then advanced. +When they reached the plateau the +enemy’s masses were already at +some distance, moving towards Sebastopol. +The French on the right +were coming up so deliberately +that it was evident they had no +thought of molesting the enemy’s +retreat, and on a proposition being +made to them to join in a pursuit +they declined it.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Whether it was or was not owing +to the cause to which Mr Kinglake +attributes it—namely, to the fact +that the French leaders, selected as +they almost all were for their share +in the <i><span lang="fr">coup d’état</span></i>, were men in +whom the troops had no confidence—it +is certain that the reputation of +the French army was not augmented +by this action. The report of +St Arnaud paints their valour and +skill in the most brilliant colours. +He does not scruple largely to exaggerate +the numbers of the enemy. +There were, according to him, +40,000 Russian bayonets, 6000 cavalry, +and 180 guns opposed to the +Allies. The true numbers were, +according to Mr Kinglake, 36,000 +infantry, 3400 cavalry, and 108 +guns. The advantages of the Russians +consisted in their strong position, +their superiority in cavalry, +and their 14 heavy guns. The +movement of the French was ineffective, +partly from misdirection, +partly from their slowness to close +with the enemy. To the English, +therefore, fell a task as difficult as +that which would have fallen to +them in ordinary cases had the +Russians been equal in strength +to the Allies—and the battle of +the Alma is eminently an English +victory.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It is evident that if the general +of an inferior army can oppose one +great mass of his enemy with a small +number of his troops, and is thus at +liberty to meet the remainder on +equal terms, he has gained a great +point in his favour; and this +Mentschikoff did. Yet we perfectly +agree with Mr Kinglake that +Mentschikoff showed no talent, and +did no justice to his troops. As +we have seen, he allowed the march +to be unmolested. He made no +use of the time at his disposal to +strengthen his position artificially. +Mr Kinglake rightly asserts this in +contradiction to official and other +authorities. Fords might have been +rendered impracticable, roads obstructed, +field-works thrown up, and +the advancing troops would thus +have been detained under the heavy +fire of the defenders, till on closing, +if they should succeed in closing, it +would be with numbers too much +diminished for success. But there +were no intrenchments nor obstacles +worth mentioning on the field. +And we regret to observe that Mr +Kinglake, though he explains in a +note that he knows the term to be +inapplicable, and that he only follows +an established precedent, talks +of the position of the Russian battery +as “the Great Redoubt.” We +regret it, because the impression +conveyed is false to those who do +not know the truth, and irrelevant +to those who do. The only work +was a bank of earth not a yard +high, which partially covered the +Russian guns of position, and which +was probably intended as much for +preventing them from running +down the hill as for anything else. +There were no embrasures, for, as +the guns looked over the bank, +none were necessary; it had not +even the additional impediment of +a ditch in front, the earth which +formed it being taken from spaces +dug between the guns. It was no +more like a “Great Redoubt,” than +it was like the Great Wall of China. +And this being the case, all such +expressions as “storming” are quite +inapplicable.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It is evident that, if an army superior +in numbers wishes to bring +its superiority to bear, it must outflank +the enemy on one or both +sides. Which flank, then, would +it have been best in the present +case to turn? The French turned +the left. There was the natural +temptation of advancing over +ground where the turning columns +were protected by the fire of the +fleet. But they moved against an +imaginary foe, and a large part of +the force might have been as well +on board ship for all the effect it +had on the action. Moreover, +though the turning movement was +completed, yet it had none of its +legitimate effects, for the Russians +left only two guns and no prisoners. +It is clear then that none of the advantages +to be expected from a +successful attack in flank followed +here.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Now suppose—as there are but +two flanks to an enemy, and no +great things had been done by +turning one—that the manœuvre +had been effected against the other. +The Allies would have moved away +from the sea up the river. The +road next the sea was closed to the +Russians by the ships’ broadsides. +Opposite the next road, that by +which Bosquet led his second brigade, +the Turks might have been +left. The right of the French +would then have been where the +right of the English really was, +that is, in the village of Bourliouk. +And the English would have +stretched so far beyond the enemy’s +right, that at least three divisions +would have been available for turning +that flank. To the Russians, +seeing this, only certain alternatives +would be possible: either to try +to thrust themselves between us +and the sea—in which case the +cliff would have restricted them to +the one road guarded by the Turks, +and where any part of their force +that made the attempt would be +lost if it should fail, as it certainly +would fail; or, secondly, an extension +of their already sufficiently +extended line till its length corresponded +with that of the Allies, +by which extension it would +be fatally weakened; or, thirdly, a +movement of the entire army to +the right, which would have uncovered +the Sebastopol road, and +was therefore not to be thought of. +Therefore the Russians must have +stood to fight on the ground they +occupied, throwing back their right +wing to meet the threatened attack +on their flank. The Allied +artillery should then have been +massed—one portion to oppose the +great battery, one to pour a storm +of shot on the right wing, the object +of attack; and the horse-artillery +and one or two batteries, after +flanking the advance from their +own side of the river, should have +been held ready to follow the flanking +columns of attack as soon as +they should be established on the +other bank. The advance, instead +of being in echelon from the right, +would be in echelon from the left—the +Light Division, followed by +the First and Fourth, would make +the turning movement and attack +the right wing—the remaining +English divisions would advance +upon the centre, and upon the +angle formed by the centre and +right; and, as soon as the Russian +line fronting the river should be +shaken by the front and flank attack +and the reverse fire, the +French divisions advancing would +find their share of the task easy. +Two results would have followed, +both important—the first, that +the position would have been carried +with much less loss of life—secondly, +that the losses of the +Russians would have been far +greater. For it is to be observed +that, by turning the left of the +Russians, and interposing between +them and the sea, they were driven +back along their proper line of retreat; +whereas, had the right been +turned, the English left wing, +pushing obliquely across the enemy’s +rear, would have reached the +Sebastopol road on the top of the +plateau, and the result of that +would have been to drive the +beaten troops towards the sea, and +to enclose all that part of the +Russian left which should be last +to retreat between our line and +the cliffs, thus capturing many +prisoners. And as the enemy were +superior in cavalry, the English +left must have carefully guarded +itself, during its advance, from the +Russian horse, first, by our artillery +on our own side of the river, and +afterwards by guns following in +support, by battalions on the left +echeloned in squares, and by our +own cavalry. Many reasons, then, +induce us to consider the French +attack a mistake. And the more +complete turning movement which +Mr Kinglake seems, as if by authority, +to ascribe to Marshal Pelissier, +as what <em>he</em> would have done—namely, +“to avoid all encounter +with the enemy on his chosen +stronghold by taking ample ground +to their left, and boldly marching +round him”—would have been objectionable, +inasmuch as it would +have left no option of retreating on +Eupatoria, in case the attack should +prove unsuccessful; and no plan +can be sound that does not provide +for the contingency of defeat.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Mr Kinglake modestly declines +to give an opinion on the question +of what plan might have been better. +But he need not have scrupled +to do so, as he deals extremely well +with the technicalities of military +art. His account of the manœuvres +preceding and during the battle is +remarkably clear. His discussion as +to the respective merits of lines +and columns shows that he thoroughly +appreciates the philosophy +of the subject. But it is not so +much to the credit of his estimate +of what constitutes generalship, +that he implies so great approval of +Lord Raglan’s solitary ride beyond +the enemy’s front, and of his continued +occupation of the knoll there +throughout the stress of the battle. +Of course it would be a great advantage +to a general in every action +to be able to see exactly what was +passing in rear of the enemy’s line. +But it would be an advantage only +as it would give him the means +of directing his own troops with +greater certainty. To see the enemy’s +rear, at the expense of losing +the control of his own army, +would be quite the reverse of an +advantage. And imagine the state +of things if two opposing generals +in a battle should be absorbed in +their efforts to pass, like two pawns +at chess, behind the opposing lines. +If it had appeared to the general +that an opportunity existed for +wedging a part of his force within +a weak spot of the enemy’s line, +staff officers might have been sent +to ascertain the fact, while the guns +and their escort required to effect +the manœuvre might have been +brought from the reserve, or the +nearest available division, and posted +in readiness to advance. We +know that during this excursion of +Lord Raglan the English divisions +were confused for want of a controlling +power to direct them. The +action of the English artillery was +without unity, at a time when a +concentrated fire against the hill +on which the attack was to be +made would have had a most important +influence on the result. +Mr Kinglake tells us that Lord +Raglan from his knoll witnessed +the first advance of the troops of our +first line, and saw that they would +not be able to hold their ground because +they were not supported; but +adds, that he did not attempt to +apply a remedy, because no order +sent by him could possibly arrive +in time to be of service. Surely +this of itself might have convinced +Mr Kinglake that the general’s +place was elsewhere. And we will +add, that, at the close of the struggle, +our successful troops did not receive +that impulsion which none +but the supreme directing authority +can give, and which was necessary +to push the victory home.</p> + +<p class='c012'>But though we do not think the +occasions for praising Lord Raglan +are always judiciously chosen, we +thoroughly agree in Mr Kinglake’s +estimate of the character of that +kind excellent gentleman and gallant +soldier. His tact, temper, and +bearing were all of a kind calculated +to be of eminent service in an allied +command, and secured to him at +once the attachment of his own +army and the respect of the French.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Mr Kinglake has scarcely accomplished +half of that task which is +so weighty, but which his qualities +as a narrator have made to seem so +light. And it is because so many +events yet remain to receive his impress, +that we would venture to remind +him how the French army in +the Crimea, though it did not by its +first achievements enhance its reputation, +yet performed many great and +gallant actions. The aid which +Bosquet brought us at Inkermann, +though long in coming, was effectual. +The part of the French in +that battle, infantry and artillery, +was highly honourable. They often +maintained terrible conflicts in the +trenches, where both sides fought +well, but where the French were +victors. Their arrangements for +receiving the attack on the Tchernaya +were such that the assailant +never had a chance of penetrating +their lines. And their terrible +losses in the final assault prove the +magnitude of the obstacles they encountered, +and the ardour with which +they overcame them. But while +we do not forget this, neither can +we regret that thus far Mr Kinglake +has sought to redress the balance of +history, by awarding to our army +its share of credit. Reputation is the +breath of its nostrils, and our allies +have appeared but too desirous to +monopolise what was gained in this +war.</p> + +<p class='c012'>And we also venture to observe +that Mr Kinglake’s enemies—and +he has scattered in these volumes +dragon’s teeth enough to produce a +plentiful crop—may find occasion +to say that in praising his friends +he is equally uncompromising as in +censuring his foes. Small traits of +character receive undue prominence, +small merits, undue laudation; as, +for instance, when the way in which +the Highland Brigade was made to +drink at the Bulganak is praised as +if it were a stroke of military genius, +and where a paragraph is devoted +to describing how its commander +pronounced the not very remarkable +words, “Forward, 42d!” and +when it is further added, “‘As a +steed that knows his rider,’ the +great heart of the battalion bounded +proudly to his touch,” Mr Kinglake +lets himself slip into a style much +beneath his own. But what no +enemy can deny is the extraordinary +animation, clearness, sustained interest, +and dramatic as well as descriptive +excellence of the work. A +vast field for these qualities yet remains—the +flank march, the commencement +of the siege, the hurricane, +the action of Balaklava (fine +soil for dragon’s teeth), the battle of +Inkermann, the long calamities and +glories of the trenches, the death of +the Czar, and of the English commander, +the final assault, and the +destruction of the stronghold—into +all these scenes we shall follow Mr +Kinglake, confident of seeing them +treated by a great artist.</p> + +<p class='c012'>As a concluding remark, we will +say that we think no history of this +war can be complete which does not +devote a chapter to the discussion +of the causes which made the British +army of 1854 so different, in all +except fighting power, from the +British army of 1814, as a machine +of war. The long peace, the growth +of the commercial spirit, the Peace +Party, the administration of the +army by the Duke of Wellington, +and the influence of the long-continued +public demand for economy, +must all be taken into account before +the breaking down of that +machine, as to be recorded hereafter, +can be fairly and fully accounted +for, and a true comparison drawn +between our military system and +that of the French.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_384'>384</span> + <h2 class='c002'>THE OPENING OF THE SESSION.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c016'>The Session has commenced under +circumstances so unfavourable +to the Ministry that even their most +sanguine friends are dejected. The +omens are unmistakably against +them, and the auspices are corroborated +by the more palpable evidence +of hard facts. The Session +was barely a week old when the +first division took place, and left +the Ministry in a minority. It was +a Government question, but the Opposition +motion, brought forward +by Mr Peacocke, was carried by the +large majority of 113 to 73. This +was a bad beginning; and, unenlightened +by the result, the Ministry +have since then exposed themselves +to, and undergone, two similar +defeats. The events of the same +week out-of-doors brought them a +worse and less avoidable disaster. +Two elections went against them. +We certainly do not claim the Cambridge +election as any great triumph +of Conservative principles, but it +was a blow to the Ministry. Lord +Palmerston’s reputation is deservedly +great, and in not a few elections +the Ministerial candidate has escaped +defeat by proclaiming himself simply +a Palmerstonian, and asserting +that the Premier was as good a +Conservative as any member of the +Opposition. The ex-member for +Cambridge, Mr Steuart, although +returned as a Conservative, subsequently +became a “Palmerstonian;” +but no sooner did his constituents +obtain an opportunity of showing +their sentiments by their votes, +than they declared in favour of a +Conservative who avowed himself +an opponent of Lord Palmerston. +This, we say, may be called a +trifle, but it is a straw which +shows which way the wind is blowing. +The other electoral contest—at +Devonport—was a very different +affair. In former elections for that +borough the Liberals had won the +day. Moreover, owing to the large +Government dockyards, the constituency +of Devonport is peculiarly +amenable to Ministerial influence. +In spite of all this, the +Ministerial candidate, although +strenuously backed by the whole +influence of the Admiralty, and +himself a Grey to boot, has been defeated, +and one of the most stanch +of Conservatives, and a thorough +party-man, Mr Ferrand, has been +elected by a majority of thirty. +This is a triumph for the Opposition +too remarkable to be explained +away. The Government +has been defeated in its own dockyard. +Driven to candour by the very +magnitude of the disaster, a Ministerial +journal<a id='r11'></a><a href='#f11' class='c015'><sup>[11]</sup></a> says:—“It is a surprising +innovation. Constituencies +like Devonport, where the Government +is a great employer of labourers +having votes, have hitherto been +considered almost as nomination +boroughs.” Even the Whigs have +got sick of “innovations” now, finding +they will no longer go down +with the public; but such an innovation +as that accomplished by the +constituency of Devonport must cut +them to the heart. If they can no +longer get their candidates returned +even in Government pocket boroughs, +what are they to do? In +Ireland a Government appointment +went a-begging for a year, because +no Whig member would risk the +new election that must follow his +acceptance of it. It would seem +that the Government are now in the +same sad predicament on both sides +of the Irish Channel.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Obviously the “Conservative reaction” +has entered upon a new +phase. The country is resolved +to have not only a Conservative +policy, but a Conservative Ministry. +At first, when it was seen that the +Whig Ministry abandoned its mischievous +attempts to degrade the +franchise, many constituencies contented +themselves with electing +men of Conservative tendencies, +even though they gave a general +support to the Government. But +this feeling is dying away; neutrality +is being abandoned for active +opposition. The change is +doubtless due to more causes than +one. But the chief influence in +producing the change is a love of +fair-play. This is peculiarly the +case in regard to the English constituencies, +where public opinion is +more calm and better balanced on +political questions than it is in the +sister kingdoms. There is a striking +difference, we may remark, in +the modes of political feeling and +action which characterise the three +great sections of the United Kingdom. +Party-spirit and religious zeal +(which, though generally, are not +always coincident forces) predominate +in Ireland. In Scotland, although +the ecclesiastical spirit is +very strong, the peculiar characteristic +of the people in politics is their +attachment to ideas pure and simple: +they are the great theorists and +innovators, and will go all lengths in +the logical application of their principles. +Fortunately the English +constituencies are admirable ballast, +and keep straight the vessel of the +State. They care little for “ideas,” +but a great deal for good and safe +government: they are businesslike +and matter-of-fact, and, above all +things, are lovers of fair-play. In +many an English constituency the +representation, by mutual agreement, +is divided between the rival +parties. A Whig and a Tory are +returned together, or two Tories +and a Whig, or one Tory and two +Whigs; and in some boroughs, +where there is a great landed proprietor +who owns nearly the whole +area of the borough, the duke or +other magnate is allowed to name +one member and the majority of +the constituency the other. This +is a businesslike compromise which +aptly illustrates English character. +Every one knows that property +must have a great influence, whether +wielded by a territorial magnate +or by a millowner; but in +assigning one seat to the magnate, +the constituency is, by a well-understood +agreement, left free to choose +its own man for the other, without +any interference on the part of the +magnate’s influence. In the other +case (which generally occurs in counties), +where the representation is divided, +equally or unequally, between +the rival political parties, the same +spirit of compromise is apparent. +It saves many contested elections, +and it is likewise a virtual adoption +of the principle of the representation +of minorities. Scotchmen +would do none of these things: a +divided representation would seem +to them as good as none. As long +as any party in a Scotch constituency +has a majority, however small, +it will insist upon carrying its own +men. The spirit of compromise +which distinguishes English constituencies +arises partly from their +love of fair-play, partly from the +fact that they are not such fervid +politicians as the Scotch, and deal +with politics not as an affair of +immutable principles or scientific +deduction, but as an ordinary business +matter, which they decide by +striking a balance of the miscellaneous +considerations which affect +them. Now, that balance is turning +every day more strongly against +the Liberals. The Scotch may +think it best to have Liberals in +office even though they carry out a +Conservative policy. But Englishmen +don’t like this. In the first +place, it is not fair. Each side +should have its innings, and the +Whigs have confessedly played out +their game. Office has its sweets, +and John Bull thinks that it is +more than time that the Tories +should get their turn of the good +things. A man cannot live upon +politics any more than upon love; +and although to the leading statesmen +on both sides the emoluments +of office are as nothing, the tenure of +political power by one party or the +other makes a material difference to +each. John Bull understands this. +Moreover, if the retention of office +by the Liberals is not fair, it is +also not manly or honest. John +Bull, like old George III., does not +like “Scotch metaphysics.” He +does not appreciate the casuistical +reasoning by which it may be shown +that a Ministry which took office to +do one thing, may stay in office to +do the opposite. Since the Whigs +have given up their principles, he +thinks they should also give up +their places. Doubtless too, if he +takes any interest in the morals of +Whiggery (which we greatly doubt, +seeing they are so purely speculative), +he must come to the conclusion +that the principles of the party +are rotting so fast on the Treasury +seats that it is high time to give +them an airing in the bracing atmosphere +of the Opposition benches.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The country now sees that, if it +had known the truth four years +ago, the present Ministry would +never have been in existence. The +Whigs and Radicals overthrew the +Conservative Government in 1859 +by means of false statements and +false professions. It took some +time before the real state of the +case could be demonstrated, but +gradually it was made plain by the +conduct of the Liberals themselves. +Slowly but steadily the truth has +dawned upon the constituencies: +they feel that they were duped by +the present occupants of office, and +they are now conscious also that +they did injustice to the Conservatives. +The Whig chiefs who, before +they got into office, deemed Parliamentary +Reform a matter of such +urgency that they promised to hold +a special session in November in +order to pass a Reform Bill, first +delayed to fulfil their promise, and +then threw up the matter altogether. +The excuse which they +plead is, that they found Parliament +unfavourable to any further tampering +with the constitution. But if +Parliament was right, they themselves +were condemned; if it were +wrong, why did they not dissolve, +and appeal to the country? Had they +been in earnest, they would have +dissolved: but they knew that a +dissolution would have been followed +by the election of a Parliament +still more hostile to them and to +their measure. And therefore they +chose rather to remain self-condemned, +and to be pointed at with +the finger of scorn, by the one +party as recreants, by the other as +impostors, rather than save their +honour at least by the sacrifice of +office. This tells against them now. +The revulsion of public feeling was +not, and could not be, immediate—for +the duplicity and insincerity of +the Ministry only revealed itself by +degrees; but it was certain from the +first, and has now become overwhelming. +The Ministry have come +to be regarded with contempt, and +every new election is taken advantage +of by the constituencies to give +expression to their censure. But +this is not the whole of the change +which the last four years have +wrought on the public mind. Alongside +of the consciousness of the sins +and demerits of the present Ministry, +there has arisen the conviction +that the principles of the Conservative +party are the right ones for +the country. The constituencies +now feel not only that the present +Ministry is a bad one, but that its +predecessor was a good one. They +have become sensible that, if any +Reform Bill were needed at all, the +Bill brought forward by Mr Disraeli +was the one that best deserved +to be adopted. They are now +conscious that if any change at all +were requisite in the matter of +Church-rates, Mr Walpole’s Bill was +well deserving of support, and that +the measure of total abolition to +which the present Ministry have +pledged themselves is wholly out of +the question. Finally, and for a good +while past, the country has come +to see that, led away by the misrepresentations +of the Whigs, it did +gross injustice to the foreign policy +of the Conservative Government. +We do not know by what fatality +it was that Lord Malmesbury’s despatches +on the Italian question +were not published until too late +to affect the division on the vote +of want of confidence in June 1859. +Had they been published earlier, +we believe the issue of that division +would have been different. +Every one may remember (or may +see for himself by referring to the +file) the effect which the publication +of those despatches produced +on the ‘Times,’ and how the leading +journal, thus enlightened as to +the facts, frankly, and without any +reservation, admitted that Lord +Malmesbury had been right throughout. +And certainly no one can forget +how Lord John Russell, when +taking farewell of the House of +Commons, took occasion—or rather +made occasion—to say that he approved +of the policy of his predecessor, +and that (which is more than +his colleagues could say) he had +been of that opinion from the beginning. +The impression, originated +and studiously fostered by +Lord Palmerston and his followers, +that the Conservatives are unfriendly +to the cause of freedom and independence +in Italy, is totally unfounded. +They have certainly mistrusted +the disinterestedness of the +policy of the French Emperor, and +have cautioned the Italian Government +against seeking to reach the +height of its ambition by machinations +which would only redound to +its own disadvantage: and on both +of these points the Italians themselves +must now be convinced that +the warnings and advices of the +Conservative statesmen were wellfounded. +At all events, taught by +a bitter experience, the Italian Government +is now following the very +course which the Conservatives recommended. +We may add a word +on our own part. The Magazine +will certainly be admitted to be as +sound an exponent of Conservatism +as is to be found either in or out of +Parliament, and we can refer to our +own pages to demonstrate how heartily +we have sympathised with the +Italian cause, wherever it was not +marred by such secret traffickings +with the French Government, as the +Italians themselves now regret and +condemn; or by violations of law +which, though natural to times of +revolution, may be condoned, but +cannot be approved.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The Ministerial programme for +the present Session contains another +confession of errors on the part of +the Government, and a fresh proof +of the wisdom of the opinions of the +Conservative party. Destitute, as +usual, of the capacity to originate +measures of useful legislation, the +Budget is to be brought forward +early, to cover the prospective barrenness +of the Session. And what +is the feature of this year’s Budget, +upon which the Ministry rely to +cover their flagrant incapacity in +other matters of administration? +It is a reduction of the naval and +military estimates! It is the adoption +of the very course so earnestly +advocated last year by the Opposition, +and so strenuously resisted +by the Government. Hardly eight +months have elapsed since Lord +Palmerston and his colleagues confidently +and haughtily maintained +that no reduction could be made +upon the large sums voted for the +support of the national armaments, +without destroying the influence +and safety of the country. Mr +Disraeli, during last Session, argued +strongly in favour of making such +a reduction, on the ground that so +heavy an expenditure was uncalled +for, and was in reality damaging to +our military power, by trenching +so deeply upon the financial resources +of the State. Again and +again he pressed these views upon +the Government—it was his constant +theme all through last Session; +but the Government refused +to accept the warnings, and resolutely +maintained that no reduction +could be made. What, then, are +we to think of them now? In what +respect is the attitude of the times +more favourable for a reduction now +than it was eight months ago? In +so far as there has been any change, +the change has been clearly for the +worse. There has been a revolution +in Greece, of the issues of which as +yet we have hardly seen the beginning. +Servia has been arming, by +the secret assistance of Russia; and +the Danubian Principalities, and +northern provinces of Turkey generally, +are in a more unquiet state +than they have been for years. +And now we have a revolution in +Poland, which is throwing all Central +Europe into agitation, and furnishing +fresh opportunities for the +intrigues or intervention of other +Powers. So far, then, as there has +been any change in the situation +since last summer, the change, we +repeat, has been for the worse. Nothing +could demonstrate more strikingly +than this the consciousness +of the Government that they were +wrong last Session, and that the Conservatives +were right. It is a new +triumph for the Conservative party—a +fresh condemnation of themselves +by the Ministry. The trump +card with which the Ministry are to +lead off this Session has been stolen +from the hands of the Opposition.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It is high time, indeed, that the +Chancellor of the Exchequer were +retrenching his expenditure; for, +weak as the Administration has +been in other respects, the management +of the finances has been peculiarly +disastrous. Although the present +Ministry took office with a surplus, +which they owed to their predecessors, +in the two succeeding +years (1860–2) in which Mr Gladstone +had the exclusive direction of +the finances, his mismanagement +accumulated a deficit of four millions +sterling. Nor is this all. For +in the same period Mr Gladstone +anticipated the revenue of the country +to the extent of £3,200,000,—namely, +£2,000,000 anticipated upon +the income-tax, and upwards of +£1,200,000 upon the malt-credit. +This enormous deficit—<em>seven and +a half millions sterling</em>—was, moreover, +accumulated during a period +when the national Exchequer +enjoyed windfalls such as very +rarely come to the aid of a Minister +of Finance. The falling-in of the +terminable annuities has reduced +the charges on the National Debt to +the extent of £2,000,000; and there +was also the unexpected repayment +of a portion of the Spanish loan. +Mr Gladstone, therefore, has enough +to do with the surplus which he will +obtain by the proposed reduction of +the expenditure. He has first to +restore the Exchequer balances to +their proper amount, by repaying +the £2,684,000 which he abstracted +from them to meet his exigencies +between March 1860 and March +1862. He has likewise to get rid of +the addition to the National Debt +which he created, to the extent of +£461,000. And, finally, he has to +cease his forestalments of the revenue. +When he has done these +things, where will be his surplus? +Mr Gladstone, in former times, +used to denounce the slightest +forestalment of the yearly revenue +as a flagrant “violation of political +morality;” and there is no +question that such a procedure +can only be excused under exceptional +circumstances and to a very +small amount. The House of +Commons, therefore, as watchful +guardians of the public revenue, +will surely call upon the Chancellor +of the Exchequer to restore matters +to their normal condition before he +does anything else. The same must +be done in regard to the Exchequer +balances. And if it be not an equally +pressing necessity to pay off the +£461,000 of new debt, surely Mr +Gladstone, who aspires to the reputation +of a great Finance Minister, +will be ashamed to leave unpaid +off a portion of the national +obligations which will hereafter be +known as “Gladstone’s Debt.” +Unfortunately, when we think of +1853–4, we must allow that this is +not the only portion of the National +Debt which may be thus designated.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Most financiers, and all sound +ones, in such circumstances, would +devote the surplus of revenue which +might accrue to redressing the adverse +balance of former years. But +Mr Gladstone belongs to a new +school. He leaves the balances to +come right as they may, or bequeaths +them as an embarrassment +to his successor; while he goes on +in his seemingly endless process of +devising financial alterations, which +always leave him deeper in the +mire. He loves to carry every inch +of canvass—he crowds all sail as he +drives his financial pinnace through +strange waters; but he has shipped +so many seas that the Exchequer +has become waterlogged. He had +better bale out the water before he +goes any further. But this is precisely +what he will not do. He +must have a “sensation” budget. +He must reduce some branches of +the revenue and experiment with +more. Already he lifts up a corner +of the curtain to give us a +glimpse of the grand tableau of +jugglery which he has in store +for us; and in due time the House +will be wheedled and overwhelmed +by the suave rhetoric of the +great financial juggler. Possibly, +however, the country will think +that it has had too much of this +already. It thinks of the cheap +paper and cheap wines, and cannot +see anything in these changes to +atone for a deficit of seven millions +and a half. Mr Gladstone’s +abolition of the paper-duties was +done not only at a wrong time, but +in a wrong way. He not only landed +himself in a deficit, but he landed +the papermakers in a dilemma. +He struck off the excise-duty on +the one hand and the import-duty +on paper on the other, and called +it “free trade;” but while making +free trade in the manufactured +article, he ought to have +taken care that there should be +free trade likewise in the raw material. +Several Continental countries +send their paper, untaxed, to +compete in the English markets +with the produce of our own paper-mills, +while at the same time they +place a prohibitory duty on the +export to our shores of rags. Our +papermakers do not object to fair +competition, but they object to be +subjected by legislative enactment +to so serious a disadvantage. If +the crop of cotton in America were +to fall off in extent (as it has done +during this civil war), and the Americans, +when peace is restored, were +to place (as they have talked of +doing) a prohibitory duty upon the +export of cotton, while we did not +retaliate by placing an import-duty +on the manufactured article from +their ports, what would our manufacturers +think of this sort of +“free trade?” Why, such a state +of matters would produce a calamity +in our manufacturing districts +equal to that under which we are +now suffering, and ruin the cotton +industry in this country permanently. +Yet this is the condition +of affairs which Mr Gladstone +voluntarily chooses to impose upon +our paper manufacture, in deference +to the clamour and exhortations of +his Radical friends. What has become +of the touching picture which +the eloquent financier portrayed of +paper-mills springing up all over +the country,—when every hamlet +was to have its little factory, engaging +the surplus labour of the lads +and lasses; and every glen that +had a streamlet was to be made +musical with the noise of a paper-mill? +We have not heard of any +such results—we have not heard of +any extension at all of the manufacture; +and as for Mr Gladstone’s +arcadian dreams of paper-making, +while foreign Governments act towards +us in the way they do, he +surely cannot possibly hope for +their realisation—unless, indeed, he +expects the whole country to go to +rags under his financial mismanagement.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The other basis upon which Mr +Gladstone founds his reputation as +a great financier, and as an ample +compensation for his past annual +deficits, is his reduction of the +duties upon French wines. We +readily admit that these wines have +been poured into this country in +greatly increased quantities during +the last eighteen months; but will +this continue? And what is the +advantage we derive from the +change? “Gladstone’s wines” has +become a current name for these +beverages, but it is certainly not +a “household word.” Any one +who confesses, with rueful face, +that he has made acquaintance +with these wines, never fails to explain +that it was at another man’s +table, or at some villanous restaurant’s,—never +at his own. No decanter +will circulate if its contents +are known to have been favoured +by the legislation of Mr Gladstone. +People have become wary and suspicious +at dinner-parties now; and +a Paterfamilias may be heard giving +the caution which old Squire +Hazeldean gave to his son when +about to dine with Dr Riccabocca, +“Whatever you take, Frank, don’t +touch his wines!” Those “cheap +wines” have been tried—or, at +least, if tried, have been condemned +and discarded at every respectable +dinner-table. They don’t suit the +middle classes; that is an incontrovertible +fact. We are not less sure +they are equally ill suited to +the tastes and requirements of the +working-classes. They have hitherto +been tried largely as a novelty; +but they do not improve on acquaintance, +even if we could forget +the much better use which Mr +Gladstone could have made of his +opportunities. Depend upon it, +Nature knows better than any +Chancellor of the Exchequer how +to provide for our bodily wants, +and supplies the essential wants +of each people from the products +of their own country. Let our +working-classes get good beer at its +natural price, and it will be infinitely +better for their health, and +more to their taste, than giving them +cheap foreign wines, whose thinness +and acidity are not suited for our +climate, and which cannot compete +with beer as nourishers and supporters +of the bodily strength. +When we remember, on the one +hand, that seven and a half millions +sterling have been lost to the +country in Mr Gladstone’s financial +experiments; and, on the other, +how much better would have been +a reduction on the duties of tea, +sugar, and beer, it will be admitted +that he could hardly have wasted +so much money with less benefit +to the community. Abundance of +acid wines and plenty of paper—it +is a curious prescription for Mr +Gladstone to found his reputation +upon.</p> + +<p class='c012'>But Mr Gladstone is resolved to +proceed in his eccentric course. His +crotchet this year is to cheapen tobacco. +Three and a half years ago +(in November 1859) Mr Bright delivered +two orations at public meetings +in favour of the abolition of +the duties on tea, sugar, and tobacco, +and the substitution therefor of +an enormous income-tax. But Mr +Bright thought that the tea and +sugar duties were more deserving +of reduction than the duty on tobacco, +whereas Mr Gladstone gives a +preference to tobacco. How is this +to be accounted for? On the surface +it appears a new piece of financial +eccentricity; and in every +view of the matter the Chancellor +of the Exchequer, we should think, +will find no small difficulty in obtaining +the consent of Parliament +to his proposal. There can be no +question that tea, sugar, and beer +have each and all prior claims upon +the favour of Parliament, if the +wellbeing of the community is to +be consulted. But Mr Gladstone, +in the speech which he made when +introducing his proposal, propounded +the extraordinary doctrine that +a Chancellor of the Exchequer (and +of course the Government which +must approve his acts) has nothing +to do with the wellbeing of the +community. His only duty, says +Mr Gladstone, is to get as much +money as possible out of the taxed +commodities. Judged by this rule, +Mr Gladstone has certainly been a +most unsuccessful Minister. We +cannot, indeed, accept this view of +a Minister’s obligations to the country; +but, even if it were accepted, +it would not furnish any justification +of Mr Gladstone’s proposal. +He says that the present duty upon +tobacco is so high that smuggling +is carried on to a large extent, and +cannot be prevented by the Custom-house +officers. This would be +a good argument for abolishing the +duty or reducing it to a trifling +amount, but it is totally inapplicable +to the case when he proposes to +leave a tax of five shillings a-pound +on manufactured tobacco, which is +more than equal to the price of the +best manufactured tobacco, freight +included. The smuggler would +still make a profit of more than a +hundred per cent on the value of +the commodity; and does any one +believe that smuggling would cease, +or even be sensibly diminished, +when the premium upon smuggling +is so great, and when (as Mr Gladstone +states) the facilities of evasion +are so plentiful? If Mr Gladstone +were honest in the plea upon which +he rests his proposal for this reduction +of customs-duty, he would be labouring +under a great delusion. But +we take another view of the matter. +It seems to us that his real object +is secretly to carry out Mr Bright’s +scheme of finance, and with great +craft he begins with the duties on tobacco, +where his operations are least +likely to excite suspicion, but which, +if accomplished, will render the subsequent +steps of the scheme not only +easy but inevitable. There may be +little to find fault with in the present +proposal considered by itself; +but what is its bearing in regard to +our financial system? Reduce the +duty on tobacco, and what other +customs-duty can be maintained? +Mr Gladstone was never more eloquent +and plausible than when +proposing to reduce the duty on +foreign wines; now he is playing +the same artful game in regard +to tobacco. Can Parliament +be any longer blind to the course +to which he is committing it? +Honest financiers, who could afford +to make a reduction of taxation, +would begin with tea, sugar, and +beer, as the duties on these can be +remitted with the greatest advantage +to the community; while those +on luxuries, such as foreign wines and +tobacco, could be maintained without +inconvenience or complaint. +But just for this very reason Mr +Gladstone, who aims at accomplishing +Mr Bright’s scheme of taxation, +begins at the other end—knowing +well that if he can reduce the taxes +on tobacco as well as on foreign +wines, the <em>abolition</em> of the other customs-duties +will follow as a natural +consequence. A reduction to the +extent of one-half the duties on luxuries +cannot be balanced save by +totally abolishing the duties on the +necessaries of life. We have a strong +conviction that this is his game; for +the good reason that upon no other +supposition is his conduct intelligible. +Mr Gladstone is not a fool; he +must have an adequate motive for +this seemingly crotchety course; and +we believe we have named it. Let +the House of Commons look to it, +before they are led too far into the +toils to be able to recede.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Plausible in the extreme, and +ever seeking to conciliate or overreach +his audience by all the arts +of rhetoric and casuistry, Mr Gladstone +changes his arguments and +mode of dealing with the House +almost every year, as may best suit +his plans. Financial principles he +has none—save the great one which +he conceals. All arguments are +fair, he thinks—all professions of +opinion justifiable, in order that he +may carry his point, and lead the +House step by step unwittingly towards +his goal. We need not allude +to the rhetorical craft by which, in +1860, when he wished to gain the +assent of the House to an increase +of the income-tax, he maintained +that there was a deficit of twelve +millions; whereas, in the following +year, when the balance was worse +by 2½ millions, but when he eagerly +desired to obtain the abolition of the +paper-duties, he boldly represented +that there was a surplus. At one time +he represents that the proper way +to proceed with a Budget is by a +multiplicity of separate bills; at +another time (when it suits his purpose +better) in the form of a single +bill. But his disregard of financial +principles, or rather his alternate +adoption and repudiation of principles +the most opposite, is a still +more glaring offence. In the case +of the French Treaty, he was wholly +in favour of Reciprocity; in the +case of the Paper-duties, he represented +that it was right for us to +abolish them without any attempt +at obtaining reciprocity, and although +some countries actually prohibited +the export of the raw material +of the manufacture! He reduced +the duty on French wines on the +ground that the reduction would +benefit the morals of the working-classes, +by enabling them to drink +light wines instead of strong spirits; +he now justifies his proposed reduction +of the duty on tobacco on the +very opposite principle—to wit, +that a Chancellor of the Exchequer +has nothing whatever to do with +the morals or wellbeing of the +people. His dogma for the hour +is, that his only duty is to make +the taxes as profitable as possible. +We have shown that it is +very doubtful if his present proposal +will have that effect; but, in +any case, how would his new +dogma accord with his policy in +the last two years in wholly abolishing +the duties on paper and +other commodities? He is the +most dangerous Minister that has +ever been intrusted with the management +of the British finances. +He has not only involved the country +in an accumulation of deficits, +but he has had the art to persuade +Parliament to do this with its eyes +open; while at the same time he +leads it onward, with its eyes carefully +bandaged, towards the goal +of democratic finance—which of late +years has become the cynosure of +his policy, and which he knows +would at once become unattainable +if his real purpose were avowed.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Now that we are to have a surplus—in +consequence of the Ministry at +length adopting the views of the Opposition—the +first duty which devolves +upon the House of Commons +is to retrieve the financial mistakes +of the past, and to rid us of its burdens. +What the Conservative leaders +advocated last session was not +reduction of taxation, but retrenchment +of expenditure. The Government +had incurred a deficit of +£7,500,000 in two years, and the +first thing to be thought of was, to +reduce the expenditure, in order +that the deficit might be cleared off. +Let Mr Gladstone do this—let him +clear off the serious deficits in his +previous years of office; and then—but +not till then—ought he to +propound new reductions of the +revenue. But such a businesslike +proceeding would not make a sensation +budget; it would not surround +the Ministry with that bright gleam +of popularity which is to retrieve +their position, and carry them +through another session of barrenness +and humiliation. In all probability +Mr Gladstone’s proposal is +to ignore the past deficits, and devote +the whole of his prospective +surplus to the reduction of taxation. +By a reduction of taxes the country +is to be bribed into forgetfulness of +the past, and rendered placable to +the appeal for respite on the part of +a falling Ministry. It is not to be +expected that Mr Gladstone will +confine his favours to tobacco: he +must support his great remission of +duty on this luxury by minor reductions +on articles of more usefulness. +While striking four shillings +a-pound off tobacco, he will strike +a few pence or farthings off the price +of tea and sugar. In fact, he will +probably, in his usual way, give a +trifling sop all round, in order that +he may be allowed to carry his great +point in the reduction of the duties +on tobacco. The House will do +much better to abolish, or greatly +reduce, the duties on hops and beer. +Surely it is intolerable that foreign +luxuries, like tobacco and French +wines, should receive the favours of +the Legislature, while the produce +of our own soil and industry, constituting +a healthy element of the +national food, should be subjected +to heavy taxation. This is a matter +which affects urban constituencies +as well as the agricultural interest. +Put it to the vote in any town or +county in the land, whether they +will have five shillings a-pound +struck off the duty on tobacco, or +get the fiscal burdens removed from +beer, and there cannot be a doubt +that the whole suffrages would be +given in favour of beer, and against +tobacco. Therefore if Mr Gladstone—as +is most likely—be resolved +once more to play an <em>ad captandum</em> +game, we trust the House of Commons +will be on the alert to see that +any possible reductions of taxation +are effected on articles which enter +largely into the food of the people, +and not wasted—with what ulterior +object, we need not repeat—upon +an enormous remission on the duties +on tobacco and cigars. But it +still more behoves the House to see +that Mr Gladstone’s previous deficits +are cleared off. Mr Gladstone +must put the finances in the condition +in which they were when he +took office. We do not presume he +will venture to continue his practice +of forestalling the revenue payments; +but he has to refund the +two millions which he abstracted +from the balances in the Exchequer +in the two years subsequent to +March 1860, and he has also to pay +off about half a million sterling +which has been added to the National +Debt during his present term +of office. Let him do these things +first; and then we will see how +much he has to spare for promoting +the introduction of cigars for +the million! Let us clear off our +past deficits, before, under the +leadership of this financial sophist, +we plunge into others that we know +not of.</p> + +<p class='c012'>The past month has furnished a +most singular proof of the want of +sagacity which has characterised +the commercial policy of the Whigs +since 1847. On coming into office +at that time, their only thought +was, how to rival Sir R. Peel in +his highly popular reforms of the +tariff. Unable to equal him in administrative +sagacity, they simply +travestied his policy by carrying it +to excess. They abolished or reduced +customs-duties, and totally +relinquished the Navigation Laws, +without a thought of how the +country would fare in its future +commercial relations with other +countries. Again and again they +were warned that they were rashly +and foolishly relinquishing a valuable +vantage-ground without even +attempting to obtain those advantages +for our commerce which other +countries would be willing to cede +in return. What has been the consequence? +The ‘Magazine’ has so +often in former years predicted +what would be the result, that +we need not now go over the old +ground. Fortunately the Under-Secretary +for Foreign Affairs has +told the tale of Ministerial failure +so well, that his speech on Feb. 17, +in answer to Mr Fitzgerald, completely +substantiates the correctness +of our old predictions. We print it +here as furnishing ample matter +for reflection to politicians on both +sides of the House:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“When the hon. member for Rochdale +went to Paris to negotiate the French +treaty, the first thing he was asked +was, What had he to offer? If he had +gone to Paris with his hands empty, +it was not probable that he would have +succeeded in obtaining the concessions +which the French Government made to +him. Fortunately, however, the hon. gentleman +had much to offer. There were +heavy duties on wine and other articles +of French produce and manufactures, +and in consideration of a reduction in +those duties the French Government +consented to various changes in their +tariff which had proved very beneficial +not only to this country but to France. +It was necessary to bear in mind that in +our domestic legislation we differed from +France. We at once gave the whole +world the benefit of the concessions +which had been made to our ally. +France, on the other hand, withheld +from others the privileges she had conceded +to us, and thus retained in her +hands the means of bargaining with other +Powers for mutual commercial concessions. +When one nation sought any +favour from another nation, there were +various grounds on which the request +might be based. An appeal might be +made to the generosity of the other +Power, but it was doubtful whether that +would have much effect; or an appeal +might be made to a treaty which gave +the applicant the privileges of the most +favoured nation, and a claim advanced +for certain privileges which had been +granted to another State. Therefore it +was, above all things, desirable that +when one had no concessions to offer in +return for the advantages sought, some +other Power, which possessed the means +of bargaining, should commence the +negotiations. That was the reason why +France had been allowed to precede us in +the present instance, and every concession +which was made to her gave us +a right to claim the same. If we had +taken the initiative, the Italian Government +would very naturally have said, +‘You have nothing to give us in +exchange for what we give you, and +if we freely concede your demands we +shall be placed in a bad position in +making terms with France.’ So far +from Her Majesty’s Government not +having endeavoured to make treaties of +commerce with other nations, the fact +was that there was scarcely a Power in +Europe with whom negotiations had not +been opened during the last year or two. +The Belgian Government were asked to +make a treaty of commerce with us, as +they had done with France; and it was +pointed out to them that it would be an +unfriendly act, having entered into a +treaty with France, to refuse to negotiate +one with England. They replied by +asking what we could give to them in return, +and they suggested that if they +gave to us what they had given to France, +we [having nothing of our own to offer +them] should consent to capitalise the +Scheldt dues. Now, the capitalisation +of the Scheldt dues had nothing whatever +to do with a treaty of commerce, +and our Government [<em>nota bene</em>, having +nothing to bargain with!] at once refused +to admit the principle of purchasing +a treaty. [And yet, in the very year previous, +they had “purchased” the treaty +with France!]... The House was aware +that last year the French Government +were negotiating a treaty with Prussia +and the Zollverein. As soon as that +fact became known, our Government applied +to Prussia and the Zollverein to +make with us a similar treaty of commerce. +The reply was precisely the same +we received from Belgium—that negotiations +could not be entered into with us +until those in progress with France were +concluded. France, it was said in effect, +can give us an equivalent. You can give +us none.”</p> + +<p class='c016'>During the present month the +conflict of parties in the Legislature +will be suspended as far as +the business of the country will +allow. The nation and its representatives +will have little taste for +polemical discussion during the +month that is to witness the joyous +event of the marriage of the heir-apparent +to the throne. The country +will be in jubilee, and London +will be absorbed in the fêtes and +royal ceremonial attendant upon +the nuptials. The good wishes of +all flow out to the young Prince +and his Danish bride. The hopes +of the nation centre in him. The +hearty greetings of the people await +him on this happy occasion. He +has proved himself worthy of the +esteem which he so fully enjoys. +Since the days of the Black Prince, +no heir to the throne has given +so many happy auguries of his +future. Unlike the peerless son +of Edward III., we trust that he +will be spared “long to reign over +us,” after the evil hour for us +when his royal mother shall exchange +her earthly crown for a better +one. Before the royal pageantries +and popular illuminations begin, +and the acclamations of the first +nation in the world arise to greet +him and his beautiful bride, we +tender them our sympathies, our +congratulations, and our best wishes +for their happiness. The union +promises to be a happy one for the +royal pair. It is a present happiness, +and we trust it will be a lasting +comfort, to our beloved Queen. +It is the first gleam of returning +sunshine to her heart after the +darkness of sorrow and bereavement +which so suddenly settled +down upon her fifteen months ago. +We know no drawback upon the general +joy. Even in a political point +of view this alliance is fortunate, +and desirable above any other that +could be formed. The country is +thrice happy to know that this is a +union of hearts as well as of hands, +and that the bride-elect possesses +in an eminent degree those advantages +of person, charms of manner, +and piety and amiability of character, +which captivate affection and +secure domestic happiness. While +as a good princess and queen she +will win our hearts, it is an additional +pleasure to feel that, as a +Scandinavian Princess, she will +rivet an old and national alliance, +and draw into closer bonds the +kindred races of the North.</p> + +<p class='c012'>Though there will be a temporary +truce, we fear the conduct of +the Government, whether as represented +by Mr Gladstone or by Lord +Russell, will not be such as the Conservative +Opposition can approve. +Even apart from its acts, the position +of the Ministry is so unnatural, +and its reputation so tarnished and +discredited, that it cannot possibly +hope for a much longer respite. +Every week its position is becoming +more untenable. In vain do its +friends endeavour to frame apologies +for its defeats and pleas for its +existence. In vain does the leading +journal at one time claim as a merit +for the Premier that he has “no +principles;” in vain does it, at another, +seek to intimidate electors +by declaring that “unprincipled +constituencies make unscrupulous +Governments.” We should have +thought that “unprincipled constituencies” +were the very ones to +support a Premier with no “principles.” +However, as the subsequent +election at Totnes showed, the +threat was no idle word: and Government +influence and the most +tyrannical pressure were employed +to coerce the free action of that constituency. +But this course also has +failed. At Totnes the Government +simply escaped defeat: Liberals +were returned as Liberals had been +before. But at Devonport, another +pocket borough of the Ministry, the +Government was defeated, and for +the first time for several elections +a Conservative headed the poll. +Ministerial tyranny had been carried +too far. It succeeded in the +first instance, but would not be +brooked in the second. The “unscrupulous +Government” has received +a check in the corrupt exercise +of its powers which it can never +forget. It was at once a triumph +for Conservatism and for the principle +of freedom of election. We +do not wonder that Mr Ferrand, +when he took his seat in the House, +should be received with hearty acclamations +from the Conservatives, +who crowded the Opposition benches +to do him honour. The Conservative +party is now stronger by +eleven votes—counting twenty-two +on a division—since June 1859, +when the united Whigs and Radicals +succeeded in overthrowing Lord +Derby’s Government by a majority +of only thirteen.</p> + +<p class='c012'>It is amusing to see the subterfuges +by which the Whigs seek to +conceal their discomfiture. Feeling +themselves going downhill very +fast, disintegrating, expiring, they +cry out that “there are no parties +nowadays.” Some of them even +go the length of saying that there +are “no principles;” the correctness +of which statement we shall +not dispute as regards themselves. +They should know best; and, indeed, +as all their old principles are +dead and gone, dismissed into the +limbo of vanities, we do not see +how they can have any left. It is +certainly suspicious that the Whigs +should have innocently discovered +that the age of party is past, at the +very time that the Tory party has +regained its old ascendancy in the +Legislature. Plain people will not +be at a loss to assign a reason. The +Whigs as a party are extinct, and, +like Chesterfield and Tyrawley, +“they don’t wish it to be known.” +The only thing that can keep the +Whigs alive in the imagination of +the public, is to show that party is +dead. Happily the country has +only to look at the Opposition side +of the House to see that the Tory +party is alive, and exuberant in +strength and hope. It is fortunate +for the interests of the State that +they are so. The main attack upon +the bulwarks of the Constitution +has been decisively repulsed—the +legions of “Reform” have been +scattered in such hopeless rout that +their leaders have thrown away +their standards and disavow their +cause. But the fight still goes on +against another front of the Constitution, +which, until lately, was +but ill defended. This combat, so interesting +and important, is itself a +test of party; and seldom have the +organisation and discipline of party +been more strikingly displayed than +in this keen warfare. Party dead! +No, truly. “An opinion has been +industriously promulgated of late,” +justly observes a contemporary,<a id='r12'></a><a href='#f12' class='c015'><sup>[12]</sup></a> +“that party distinctions have ceased +in public life, and that there are +no contested principles between +the two great political connections +of the State. Yet simultaneous +with the propagation of this doctrine +has been the most systematic +and successful assault in Parliament +upon the Church of England +that it has encountered since 1640.” +Repulsed from the political front +of the Constitution, the waves of +combat still dash furiously against +our religious institutions. It is +time that the Conservatives should +overthrow the enemies of the Constitution +in this quarter also by a +decisive victory. It will be their +crowning triumph. In truth there +is no other beyond it. When they +have terminated this combat, the +Conservative triumph is complete +in the Legislature, as it already is +in the country. The Church is +part and parcel of the British Constitution; +and very heartily do we +approve of our ecclesiastical contemporary’s +exhortations to Churchmen +to look after their special interests. +The Church is a party +question, like any other; and in +the intense competition of a constitutional +country, the Church must +organise its press, like the other +institutions of the land.</p> + +<p class='c012'>There is a good time coming +sure enough, and the cause of its +coming is easily understood. The +Conservative party are superior +alike in sincerity and in statesmanlike +ability to the party which has +so long prided itself in the advocacy +of organic changes. Moreover, +they represent the normal feeling +of Englishmen. Conservatism is +the distinguishing feature of the +British character. The public of +this country has no love for those +theoretic ideals of government, +those paper-constitutions, which +have so often fascinated and brought +misery upon other nations. The +reign of Innovation is ever short-lived +with us; and the supremacy +of the party who represent that +principle must be equally transitory. +The Whig party, who became +champions of innovation in +order to regain the power which they +had lost, now find that their old +vantage-ground has slipped from +under them. They have had their +day as rough-hewers of the Constitution, +and now give place again +to the more masterly artists who +know how to chisel the marble +while preserving the lineaments of +the noble design. This natural +decline of the Reform party has +been rendered more inevitable by +the very efforts they have made +to maintain themselves in power. +Everything portends the speedy ascendancy +of the Conservative party +in Parliament; and the leaders of +the party are the very men to lend to +such a cause the lustre of personal +renown. Derby, Malmesbury, Disraeli, +Bulwer Lytton, Pakington, +Walpole, Stanley, Cairns, Whiteside, +are names of which any party and +any cause might be proud. They +have the advantage of years, too, +on their side; for, compared with +their rivals, they are all in the +vigour of life, and in the prime of +states-manhood. The tide of public +opinion has long been rising in +their favour, and they have not +long to wait. They are strong, and +therefore are calm; they are patriotic, +and will not imitate the +factious tactics of their rivals. But +their final success is at hand; and +their triumph will be all the more +glorious, inasmuch as it promises +to partake less of the character of +a party-victory, than of an ovation +offered to them by the whole enlightened +classes of the community.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c006'> + <div><span class='small'><em>Printed by William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh.</em></span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='c019'> +<div class='footnote' id='f1'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. ‘La Vie de Village en Angleterre; ou, Souvenirs d’un Exile.’ Paris: Didier. 1862.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f2'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. ‘Vie Moderne en Angleterre.’ Par Hector Malot.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f3'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. ‘Studies in Roman Law; with Comparative Views of the Laws of France, England, +and Scotland.’ By Lord Mackenzie, one of the Judges of the Court of Session +in Scotland. W. Blackwood & Sons. 1862.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f4'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. I should add that, since writing the above, one day my eye was attracted by +the unusual number of people (there were nine) reading one of the royal decrees +just promulgated and placarded on the wall: it concerned the uniform of subordinate +officials.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f5'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. The ‘Chiacchiera’ of 3d January.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f6'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. ‘<span lang="fr">Relations Politiques de la France et de l’Espagne avec l’Ecosse au xvi<sup>e</sup> Siècle—Papiers +d’état, Pièces, et Documents inedits ou peu connus, tirés des Bibliothêques +et des Archives de France. Publiés par Alexandre Teulet, Archiviste aux Archives +de l’Empire.</span>’ Nouvelle edition, 5 vols. Paris: Renouard. Edinburgh: Williams +& Norgate.</p> + +<p class='c012'><span lang="fr">‘Les Ecossais en France—Les Français en Ecosse.’ Par Francisque Michel, +Correspondant de l’Institut de France, &c. &c. 2 vols. London: Trübner & Co.</span></p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f7'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. See the cessation of church-building in Scotland brought out in a well-known +article in the ‘Quarterly Review’ for July 1849, on the Churches and Abbeys of +Scotland, understood to be from the pen of Mr Joseph Robertson.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f8'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r8'>8</a>. See the article on ‘Baronial and Ecclesiastical Antiquities of Scotland,’ in the +Magazine for August 1850.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f9'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r9'>9</a>. Article, ‘The French on Queen Mary,’ Magazine for November 1859.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f10'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r10'>10</a>. ‘The Invasion of the Crimea: Its Origin, and an Account of its Progress down +to the Death of Lord Raglan.’ By Alexander William Kinglake. 2d Edition. +William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh and London.</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f11'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r11'>11</a>. The ‘Daily News.’</p> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='f12'> +<p class='c012'><a href='#r12'>12</a>. ‘Church and State Review,’ art. ‘Practical Politics.’</p> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c007'> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='chapter ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c008'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<table class='table0'> + <tr> + <th class='c020'>Page</th> + <th class='c020'>Changed from</th> + <th class='c021'>Changed to</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c022'><a href='#t279'>279</a></td> + <td class='c023'>were not long absent. Whey they</td> + <td class='c024'>were not long absent. When they</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c022'><a href='#t320'>320</a></td> + <td class='c023'>a <em>cause celèbre</em> now depending. We</td> + <td class='c024'>a <em>cause célèbre</em> now depending. We</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c022'><a href='#t372'>372</a></td> + <td class='c023'>the <em>coup d’êtat</em>. The claims of St</td> + <td class='c024'>the <em>coup d’état</em>. The claims of St</td> + </tr> +</table> + + <ul class='ul_1'> + <li>Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + + </li> + <li>Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last chapter. + </li> + </ul> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75167 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57e (with regex) on 2024-12-30 23:33:50 GMT --> +</html> + diff --git a/75167-h/images/cover.jpg b/75167-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..098f3ab --- /dev/null +++ b/75167-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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