A Popular History of England, From the Earliest Times to the Reign of Queen Victoria; Vol. IV
Chapter XL.
George IV. Regent And King. (1815-1830).
Peace was established in Europe. It had cost France great anguish and great grief. The Duke Richelieu, who had concluded it, and whose personal influence over the Emperor Alexander had powerfully contributed to soften its conditions, expressed the sentiment of all France when he wrote to his sister, Madame Montcalm, "All is consummated. More dead than alive, I have affixed my name to that fatal treaty. I had sworn not to do it, and I had said it to the king. The unhappy prince conjured me, breaking into tears, not to abandon him. I no longer hesitated. I have the confidence to believe that no one else could have obtained as much. France, expiring under the weight of the calamities which overwhelm her, claims imperiously a prompt deliverance."
England again breathed: triumphant, but weighed down by her long efforts. The state of the public finances and the monetary situation occupied all minds, and served as a theme for the attacks of the opposition against Lord Liverpool and Lord Castlereagh. A certain inquietude manifested itself also upon the subject of the secret conditions of the peace. Henry Brougham, a young advocate of great talent, in a speech upon this question, demanded the publication of the Treaty, half mystical, half absolute, known under the name of the Holy Alliance, and signed at Paris on the 20th of November, 1815, by the Emperors of Russia and Austria, as well as by the King of Prussia.
{443}
"In his capacity as constitutional sovereign, the Prince Regent was not competent to affix his signature to this treaty, concluded by the sovereigns themselves," said Lord Castlereagh; "England has therefore no right to call for its publication." The Houses gave themselves the noble pleasure of rewarding the valor of their generals and their armies. Monuments were erected to the memory of those who had fallen in the war. The pensions formerly accorded to the Duke of Wellington were doubled; he received from the just gratitude of his country five hundred thousand pounds sterling. It is to the honor of the English nation that no absolute monarch was ever more liberal toward his favorites than it has shown itself in regard to its great servants.
England, as well as all Europe, had founded great expectations upon the re-establishment of peace. She had assured security to the commerce of the Mediterranean, by an expedition against the Dey of Algiers, nominal sovereign of the hordes of pirates constantly infesting that sea, to the great peril of merchant vessels. Lord Exmouth had bombarded Algiers, destroyed the vessels of the pirates, and obtained the liberation of all the Christian slaves. But this new achievement was not sufficient to re-awaken commerce, overwhelmed by numerous and repeated losses. The harvest had been bad; to the actual and pressing evils was added the bitterness of ignorant hopes cruelly deceived. Popular movements manifested themselves in many places; the Regent was insulted as he came from Westminster, after having opened Parliament (January 28th, 1817). The government was informed of a vast conspiracy that threatened "to fire the four corners," of Great Britain. Energetic measures were adopted; the suspension of the habeas corpus act was prolonged; a new law imposed the most severe penalties upon seditious re-unions. The forces intended for the maintenance of order in the interior, were increased to ten thousand men. The nation was still agitated and suffering, after the long trial of a war energetically carried on during twenty years, and was weary and overburdened, in spite of the victory.
{444}
Before the delights of peace had calmed the spirits and re-assured all minds, before all hearts had lost the habit of suffering and resisting suffering, it required an effort on the part of the nation, as of the individual, to enjoy the charms of repose.
An unforseen event deeply moved public feeling. Princess Charlotte, heiress to the throne, loved and esteemed by all, and upon whom reposed those loyal sympathies (of which her father was justly deprived), had just died at Claremont, on the 6th of November, 1816, in giving birth to her first child.
All England shared in the grief of her young husband, Prince Leopold of Saxe-Cobourg. He was destined subsequently to be the first to ascend the throne of Belgium, assisted thereto by new family ties that he contracted in France, as well as by the affection still cherished for him in England. He was sagacious enough to make use of both these influences for the good of his adopted country, as well as a beneficial influence in the counsels of European politics. On the 29th of May, 1819, less than two years after the death of Princess Charlotte, the Princess Victoria, daughter of the Duke of Kent, was born at London. Some months later the old King George III. died (January 28th 1820); blind and insane during the last ten years of his life. Patient and quiet in his madness, he preserved in the hearts of his people a respectful and melancholy popularity which showed itself at the time of his death. Honest and obstinate, seriously and sincerely religious, observant of his duties both as man and as king, as he understood them, he had often served and often hindered the policy and the government of his country; he had always loved it, and had always believed himself obligated to consecrate to it his life and his strength, to the prejudice of his tastes or personal desires. During these ten years, in the long silence of his sad isolation, he had exhausted all anger and extinguished all hatred. The nation remembered only his simple and honest virtues, his immovable courage and his patriotic disinterestedness. No illusion regarding the abilities and faults of his successor was possible.
[Image] George IV.
{445}
For ten years already George IV. had satisfactorily occupied the throne, when he was officially proclaimed king on the 31st of January, 1820.
The fruits of evil are bitter even for those who plant them. Unhappily married, as he deserved to be, after the disorderly life he had led, the new monarch had for a long time cherished towards his wife an aversion amounting to hatred. He addressed to her the gravest reproaches. Upon his accession to the throne, the princess was upon the continent. Orders were given to erase her name from the liturgy of the established church, and to omit the public prayers for the Queen, as her husband had decided never to recognize her. The natural courage of the princess and the indignation of the woman, wounded in her honor, brought Queen Caroline immediately back to England, proudly resolved to submit her cause to public opinion.
"I wrote to Lord Liverpool and Lord Castlereagh, to demand the insertion of my name in the liturgy of the Church of England," declared the queen, "at the same time that the order was given to all the ambassadors, ministers and English consuls to recognize me and to treat me as Queen of England. After the address of Lord Castlereagh in reply to that of Mr. Brougham, I have no other insult to fear. I demand that a palace be prepared for my reception. I fly toward England, which is my true country."
{446}
All the generous sentiments of the English nation, as well as its contempt for the character and habits of its sovereign, were shown in the ardent and sympathetic reception which greeted the arrival of Queen Caroline on the sixth of June, 1820.
"They have erased her name from the liturgy," said her faithful and honest counsellor, Mr. Denham, "but all England prays for her in praying for those who are desolate and oppressed."
In the midst of her popular triumph, all attempts at compromise were rejected by the queen, notwithstanding the advice of her eminent advisors, Brougham and Denham. The king demanded a divorce, which his ministers refused to second; public excitement was increasing; for a moment some regiments of infantry seemed to waver in their fidelity. Political maneuvres increased the agitation; the leaders of the radical opposition espoused the cause of the queen; she addressed a petition to the House of Lords, demanding the authority to defend herself. The government finally took the initiative, with regret, and constrained by the violence of royal and popular passions, Lord Liverpool presented to Parliament his Bill of Pains and Penalties, formally accusing Queen Caroline of conjugal infidelity, and demanding a divorce, in the name of King George IV.
The venerable Lord Eldon remarked with judicious sagacity, before the arrival of Caroline: "Our queen threatens to come to England; if she ventures here, she is the most courageous woman I have ever heard of. The evil she will do by coming will be incalculable. At the outset she will be immensely popular with the multitude; I give her only a few weeks, or at the most, a few months, to lose the opinion of the entire world."
{447}
It was a sad and unheard of spectacle to see a sovereign publicly arraigning his wife before the supreme tribunal. A great multitude besieged the environs of Westminster, insulting those ministers and peers that they knew were opposed to the accused queen, and saluting her defenders with acclamations. Popular passion had judged well the doubts and uncertainties which enveloped the principal facts and the formal accusations; it closed its eyes, however, to the license of life and language which the corrupt and contradictory testimony of foreigners reluctantly revealed.
The burning eloquence and the wonderful management of Brougham carried the enthusiasm of the multitude to the highest pitch. In summing up the evidence, he said: "Such, my Lords, is the case now before you, and such is the evidence by which it is attempted to be upheld. It is evidence--inadequate, to prove any proposition; impotent, to deprive the lowest subject of any civil right; ridiculous, to establish the least offence; scandalous, to support a charge of the highest nature; monstrous, to ruin the honor of the Queen of England. My Lords, I call upon you to pause. You stand on the brink of a precipice. If your judgment shall go out against your queen, it will be the only act that ever went out without effecting its purpose; it will return to you upon your own heads. Save the country--save yourselves. Rescue the country; save the people of whom you are the ornaments; but severed from whom, you can no more live than the blossom that is severed from the root and tree on which it grows. Save the country, therefore, that you may continue to adorn it--save the crown, which is threatened with irreparable injury--save the aristocracy, which is surrounded with danger--save the altar, which is no longer safe when its kindred throne is shaken. {448} You see that when the Church and the throne would allow of no church solemnity in behalf of the queen, the heartfelt prayers of the people rose to Heaven for her protection. I pray Heaven for her; and I here pour forth my fervent supplications to the throne of mercy, that mercies may descend on the people of this country, richer than their rulers have deserved, and that your hearts may be turned to justice."
So much eloquence and oratorical passion, together with the intense earnestness of public opinion, had, as might be expected, a great effect upon the House of Lords. The majority in favor of the bill, which at first was quite considerable, diminished day by day. On the third reading, it was but nine. Lord Liverpool rose and said, that, in the presence of a majority so small, he did not think it advisable to continue the discussion. On the 10th of November, 1820, the bill was withdrawn, to the intense delight of the people. Catherine of Brunswick had gained her cause; she remained the wife of George IV. and Queen of England.
It was one of those triumphs, which cost so dear to the victors, and which accelerates their fall. In passing through the crowded streets about Westminster, Lord Mulgrave was threatened by the multitude, who demanded that he should join in the cry: "Long live the queen!" He turned towards the populace and said, "Very well, long live the queen, and all you women that resemble her." Something of this bitter sarcasm began to penetrate slowly into the minds of the people, but lately carried away, without reflection, in the defence of a wife outraged by him who had set her so fatal an example. The resolution shown by the ministers in the conduct of their painful task, and the perils they had braved, led to a sincere reaction in their favor. {449} A diabolical plot that has been called "the Cato street conspiracy"--after the name of the street where its principal author, Arthur Thistlewood, resided, had threatened the lives of all the members of the cabinet; they were to be assassinated _en masse_, in the dining-room of Lord Harrowby, in Grosvenor Square. The plot was discovered, and the conspirators suffered the penalty of their crime on the 1st of May, 1820.
Almost at the same moment grave disorders broke out in Scotland and the north of England. The energy of their repression equalled the violence of the attempts. The honest mass of the nation rose as one man against those misguided wretches that threatened to annihilate social order. "Among those who are here," said Sir Walter Scott, in a public meeting at Edinburgh, "there are persons who are able, by uniting their forces, to raise an army of fifty thousand men."
Notwithstanding that the government of George IV. had shared in the great unpopularity of the sovereign, it finally regained the favor of the nation. The majority which sustained it in Parliament became each day more decided and more united. "In six months the king will be the most popular man in the realm," said Lord Castlereagh, with a just and disdainful appreciation of the violence of popular reaction.
When on the 19th of July, 1821, Queen Caroline appeared at the doors of Westminster Abbey, in an open carriage drawn by six horses, claiming her right to witness the coronation of the king, admission into the church was peremptorily refused. Fearing an outbreak of the passions so recently excited in her favor, the display of military force was great; but few of the populace saluted her. She withdrew, wounded to the death in her pride and in her resentment. {450} Fifteen days later she expired. She had directed that her body should be taken back to her native country and deposited in the tomb of her ancestors, with this inscription: "Here lies Caroline of Brunswick, the injured Queen of England." For a moment only public sentiment was re-awakened in favor of the queen. The funeral escort, which accompanied the remains to the port of embarkation, had been ordered to avoid the streets of London; a mob, however, compelled the procession to proceed through the city. Two men were killed. A distinguished officer, Sir Robert Wilson, severely reprimanded the soldiers for having fired upon the people. He was cashiered, and the magistrate who had yielded to the demands of the mob, in changing the route, was dismissed.
Queen Caroline was forgotten, and her royal spouse was in Ireland receiving the enthusiastic homage of a people who had not for long years enjoyed the honor of a royal visit. "My heart has always been Irish," said George IV., addressing the multitude which crowded around the Viceroy's palace; "from the day it first beat, I have loved Ireland. Rank, station, honors are nothing; but to feel that I live in the hearts of my Irish subjects is to me the most exalted happiness." A similar reception awaited George IV. in his Electorate of Hanover.
In the midst of this triumph of their party, the ministers, more sincerely and more rigidly Tory than Pitt had ever been, yet realized the need of energetic and effectual support. Since his accession to office. Lord Sidmouth had cleverly and sagaciously directed internal affairs, but he now was old and worn out. Mr. Peel, Secretary for Ireland since 1812, brilliantly replaced him. A certain number of moderate Whigs allied themselves to the government, without however changing either its attitude or its complexion. {451} Superficial minds are astonished at this long continued power of the Tories. Peace and pacific governments were established in Europe; the perils within and without which had threatened England no longer existed. The causes which had permitted them to hold the reins of power so firmly, were removed or greatly diminished: it seemed that that power ought to be relaxed; but the effects long survived the causes; if the Tory government was not indispensable at this time, the Tory party at least was the victorious and dominant party, everywhere possessing the preponderance, and powerfully organized to preserve it. The relations of England with the absolute monarchies of the continent, were of the most cordial character. Her counsellors had contracted during the severe trials of the coalition those lines of thought, of interest, and of habit which create common interests and common success; her external policy weighed upon her internal policy; and Lord Castlereagh was more inclined to assimilate with the Prince Metternich than to distinguish himself. Unhappily for the new-born spirit of liberty, the revolutionary spirit also reappeared, spreading its virus in public institutions as well as in individual hearts, alarming everywhere the governments. During the first twelve years of the peace, England found her government more alarmed, more immovable, more inaccessible to all reform and all liberal innovation, than it had been in the midst of the war, during her greatest struggles and greatest dangers.
The contest between the government and the opposition had begun. The Whigs were ardent partisans of reform, in principle as well as from political ambition, always shrewd and sagacious to advance or to serve popular needs and desires. A famine in Ireland and the deplorable scenes which accompanied the sufferings of the people, drew universal attention to the violent relations which existed between the Catholics and the Protestants. In vain had the Marquis of Wellesly as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, exercised a prudent and energetic impartiality; he only succeeded in alienating the Orangemen without conciliating the Patriots.
{452}
Mr. Canning presented to the House a proposition for the admission of the Catholic Peers to Parliament; "but yesterday," said he, "at the august ceremony of the coronation, after being exhibited to the peers and people of England, to the representatives of princes and nations of the world, the Duke of Norfolk, highest in rank among the peers--the Lord Clifford, and others like him, representing a long line of illustrious and heroic ancestors,--appeared as if they had been called forth and furnished for the occasion, like the lustres and banners that flamed and glittered in the scene; and were to be, like them, thrown by as useless and temporary formalities; they might indeed bend the knee, and kiss the hand; they might bear the train, or rear the canopy; they might perform the offices assigned by Roman pride to their barbarian forefathers,--_Purpurea tollant aulœa Brittanni_: but with the pageantry of the hour their importance faded away: as their distinction vanished, their humiliation returned; and he who headed the procession of peers to-day, could not sit among them, as their equal, on the morrow."
For some time past Mr. Peel had assumed the leadership of the opposition on the question of Catholic emancipation; he had conducted the same with a moderation for which Mr. Plunkett, one of the most eloquent and ardent partisans of the measure, thanked him in flattering terms: "I know no man in the state that will probably have more influence upon this question; and there is no man whose adhesion to what I would call prejudices without foundation, would be able to do more evil to my country," said he.
{453}
Notwithstanding the lively opposition of Peel, the proposition of Mr. Canning was adopted by the House of Commons. The cabinet was divided. Lord Castlereagh, become Marquis of Londonderry since the death of his father, remained favorable to the liberal measures in favor of the Catholics; the House of Lords rejected the motion, not however without leaving to its partisans the legitimate hope of the approaching success of their just cause.
A first effort of Lord John Russell, in favor of Parliamentary reform, vigorously opposed by Mr. Canning, was rejected by the House of Commons, but by a smaller majority; and after a discussion more favorable than the ardent promoters of the measure had perhaps expected. The last words of the address of Mr. Canning already predicted that success that he so greatly feared. "I conjure the noble Lord," he said, "to pause, before he again presses his plan on the country: if, however, he shall persevere, and if his perseverance shall be successful, and if the results of that success be such as I cannot help apprehending;--his be the triumph to have precipitated those results; mine be the consolation that to the utmost and to the latest of my power, I have opposed them."
King George IV. returned to Edinburgh; he had journeyed through Scotland from castle to castle, charming all he met, by the grace of his manner and the agreeableness of his conversation, even those who had not attributed to him either political courage or private virtue. He was suddenly recalled to London by a tragic event; as Sir Samuel Romilly and Mr. Whitbread, some years before. Lord Londonderry had just succumbed under the weight of a burden too heavy for the equilibrium of his mind; he had cut his throat on the 12th of August, coldly resolved, even to the last day, as firmly to sustain peace as he had been to sustain war; too feeble nevertheless to resist the new embarrassments that he apprehended from the state of agitation in Europe, and precipitated by his patriotic agonies into a fit of insanity.
{454}
The battle of Austerlitz broke the heart of Mr. Pitt. After having victoriously concluded peace, and maintained order in England while all the thrones of the continent were shaken. Lord Londonderry had become a madman.
Mr. Canning replaced him in power, not without intrigue nor without internal difficulty. He associated with himself Mr. Huskinson, an able and honest minister of the finances, liberal like himself, and disposed likewise to favor the popular movement, that they had neither the power nor the desire to repress. The first intimation of this new attitude of the government, was the recognition by England of the South American republics: ancient Spanish colonies revolted against the yoke of the mother country. Successive shocks had agitated Spain; the Bourbons had been overthrown and replaced by a provisory government. Recalled to the throne by a royalist insurrection, Ferdinand VII. had been seconded by France; the Duke of Angoulême, eldest son of King Louis XVIII., at the head of an army had re-established the monarchy in Spain, while Austria, in her turn, interfered in the affairs of the kingdom of Naples, as confused and troubled as those of Spain. Under Mr. Canning, England remained faithful to the principle of non-intervention; nevertheless without sympathy for the sovereigns attacked, without good will to their defenders. "We have exerted all our efforts to prevent the French from entering Spain," said Mr. Canning. "We have exhausted every means but war. I admit that the entrance of a French army into Spain was a measure of disparagement to Great Britain. {455} Do you think that for this disparagement we have not been compensated? Do you think that for the blockade of Cadiz, England has not received a full recompense? I looked at Spain by another name than Spain; I looked on that power as Spain and the Indies; and so looking at the Indies, I have there called a new world into existence and regulated the balance of power."
While Mr. Canning pursued a foreign policy, boldly independent in regard to the powers and common interests of Europe, he remained preoccupied and sad. He had reached the summit of grandeur; admired and respected by all, still young and powerful, by reason of his personal merit, he nevertheless stood alone, having parted from all the friends who had fought at his side at the outset of his career, separated from them by the attitude he had taken at the head of the liberals; and also separated from the liberals, that he commanded by the resistance that he opposed to parliamentary reform. His health was good, but the nervous state into which the trials and vexations of political life had thrown him, slowly undermined the forces that he sought in vain to repair by the pleasures and charms of society. He died on the 8th of August, 1827, at Chiswick, in the beautiful villa of the Duke of Devonshire, and in the same chamber where Mr. Fox breathed his last.
One after the other, young and old, death gathered the great actors of the long struggle sustained by England against the anarchical passions and absolute ambition from without and the contagion of fatal evils within. But few months after the death of Mr. Canning, Lord Liverpool, in his turn, old and worn out, already withdrawn from the world by an attack of paralysis, also died. It was necessary to provide for the needs of government. A cabinet of coalition slipped through the hands of Lord Goderich. {456} The Duke of Wellington had directed victoriously the affairs of England in war, and the king now demanded of the great general that he should take charge of the political affairs of the government. The Duke, accustomed to obey the call of duty wherever it led, did not hesitate, confiding simply in the power of good sense and honest authority. The Whigs retired; the liberal Tories, Mr. Peel at their head, closed their ranks around the new chief whom fortune had sent them.
The young Lord Aberdeen, already distinguished, with Lord Castlereagh, in the most important diplomatic negotiations, now, for the first time, took part in the internal government of his country. He had the good fortune to be loved and honored by all, both at home and abroad, during his entire career. The ministry had, from the beginning, to confront a difficult and long contested question. It found itself constrained to support and defend a measure that it had previously ardently combatted. The situation in Ireland occupied all minds; the emancipation of the Catholics became, more than ever, in the eyes of some, the evident remedy for all evils; but to others, the object of lively inquietude and profound repugnance.
Commerce had developed in Ireland; industry had increased her exportations; the ministers hostile to the measures that were demanded to relieve the miseries of a neighboring and dependent kingdom, cited with pride the figures of the statistics: but the wealth was concentrated in a small number of hands; the proprietors of the soil were, for the most part, strangers to Ireland; absent or indifferent to her sufferings. The common people were engaged in agricultural pursuits of the most primitive character, without other care than to draw from the earth, with the least possible effort, the subsistence necessary from day to day. {457} The introduction of the potato, by giving the peasants a food more economical than wheat, had increased their idleness, their improvidence, and their misery. Without money, without resources, without education, habitually separated from the higher classes, the Irish peasantry lived in a state bordering on barbarism. "The last of the animals, does not support its kind," said, in 1822, the most illustrious of their advocates, Daniel O'Connell, often most useful but many times dangerous to their cause: "Their homes should not be called houses--they have no right to that title: they are huts, built in the earth, partly thatched over, partly exposed to the elements. No furniture garnishes the interior; it is a luxury to possess a trunk; and a table is rarely to be found. All the family live in one room; they have no beds, and sleep upon straw; in the mountainous districts they scarcely have sufficient covering. Their wages are not above eight cents per day, and even at that rate, farm hands cannot find work. Their land, therefore, is their only means of support, and this land is leased to them at a price far above its real value, owing to the numerous middlemen who come between the proprietors and the peasants."
So much suffering, so long endured without effectual relief, in a situation seemingly without issue, at last brought about a violent agitation, which was used to foment religious and political passions. The Test Act was repealed, and a simple oath of allegiance was substituted for the compulsory communion with the established Church. This was the first step leading to the emancipation of the Catholics; all felt it, even the protestant dissenters, who supported the measure, although it was of more benefit to their traditional enemies, the Catholics, than to themselves.
{458}
Public opinion was at the time violent but brilliantly directed. Under Mr. Canning the Irish Catholics were careful not to obtrude their claims, as they feared to embarrass, by public alarm, the good will of the government. When they saw the power fall into the hands of the Tories, they at once engaged passionately in the contest: the Catholic associations commenced their popular assemblies, their harangues, their addresses, their pamphlets, their subscriptions, all their ardent and adroit work, as much to excite and to discipline the people in England as to encourage and recruit their partisans in Ireland. O'Connell and Moore, two men of very unequal powers, but both powerful at this time, by diverse means, marched at the head of this crusade for the emancipation of their faith and race. O'Connell, that robust and audacious wrestler, that inventive and strategic legislator, indefatigable in his eloquence, brilliant or vulgar, captivating or diverting, devoted with unscrupulous passion to the cause which made at the same time his glory and his fortune; Moore, patriotic and worldly poet, pathetic and satirical, as popular in the salons of London as O'Connell in the meetings of Ireland; singing his melodies while O'Connell breathed forth his invectives, both constant in their efforts, rallying to the service of the same cause the mass of the people and the elegant world, the impetuous passions and the elevated thoughts, the ambition of men, and the sympathy of women, the Celtic peasants and the Saxon nobles, the Catholic priests and the philosophic Whigs.
The grandeur of the purpose responded to the ardor of the effort. O'Connell was elected from the county of Clare, to that House of Commons from which he was excluded by law. Ireland was completely under his control; sometimes precipitating itself to the last limits of legal order, then again docile and prudent. In England, among the different classes of the laity, as well as in the bosom of the Anglican Church, public sentiment favorable to the Catholic Church gained ground day by day.
{459}
As obstinate in its alarms, as sincere in its faith, Protestant Toryism struggled against the tide, but that struggle became more and more feeble; the Orange societies of Ireland weakly opposed the meetings of the Catholic associations, and in the House of Lords, Lord Eldon himself lost confidence: "We will combat," said he, "but we will be in a miserable minority. That which is most disastrous is that many bishops will be against us."
Without being more sincere than Lord Eldon, the bishops favorable to the emancipation of the Catholics had judged better than he of their duty as Christian prelates, and the true interests of their religious faith; the government also realized that the measure had become necessary. The Duke of Wellington, always ready to confront the truth, however disagreeable it might be, now became convinced that the present state of affairs in Ireland ought not to be prolonged, and that it was necessary to remove all cause and all legitimate pretext for the intrigues and maneuvres of the agitators. Religious liberty was not in question; thanks to the progress of public opinion in the midst of Christian civilization, the practical freedom of religious beliefs, and different worship, either Protestant or Catholic, was not affected: it was the equality of political rights, the separation of civil from religious society that they demanded; and it was from a government whose entire political establishment, royalty, parliament and legislation, was exclusively protestant, that this declaration was to emanate and become law. It was in consequence of the pressing necessity, and not from any general principles of truth and justice, that the Duke of Wellington and Mr. Peel decided to present to Parliament, a measure that they were unable any longer to resist, and for which they had with great difficulty obtained the consent of the king.
{460}
It was not from principle that George IV. resisted the demands of his ministers. Protestantism was a tradition of his house; he regarded it as the foundation of his throne; he wished besides to shows his authority. He feigned an endeavor to form a new cabinet but did not succeed. "What am I to do?" said he to Lord Eldon, "my situation is miserable. If I give my consent I shall go to Hanover. I shall return no more to England." In order to guard against treachery or weakness, the ministers exacted a written authorization from him. On the 5th of March, 1829, Mr. Peel proposed to the House of Commons the abolition of the civil and political disabilities which weighed upon the Catholics. Violently attacked, and censured for his cowardice in renouncing his life-long opinion before servile terrors, the great minister replied: "I know of no motive of conduct more ignominious than fear; but there is a disposition more dangerous perhaps yet, although less base; it is the fear of being suspected of having feared. However vile a coward may be, the man who abandons himself to the fear of being treated as a coward, shows but little more courage. The ministers of his majesty have not been alarmed by the Catholic associations; they had stifled all attempts at intimidation; but there are fears which are not repugnant to the character of the firmest man, _constantis viri_. There are things which cannot be seen without fear. One _ought_ not to see without fear the disorganization and the disaffection which exists in Ireland, and that one that affects not to fear them, would show himself insensible to the happiness or misfortune of his country."
[Image] Windsor Castle.
{461}
It was in the same spirit of patriotic uneasiness that the Duke of Wellington said to the House of Lords: "It has been my fortune to have seen much of war, more than most men; I have been constantly engaged in the active duties of the military profession. From boyhood until I have grown gray my life has been passed in familiarity with scenes of death and human suffering. Circumstances have placed me in countries where the war was internal, between parties of the same nation; and rather than a country I loved should be visited with the calamities which I have seen, with the unutterable horrors of a civil war, I would run any risk; I would make any sacrifice; I would freely lay down my life."
The emancipation of the Catholics had not borne all the fruits of pacification and of conciliation that was expected; it left alive many germs of bitterness, destined more than once to produce cruel agitations. It was nevertheless legitimate, necessary and honorable to the government which proposed it, and the Parliament which passed it. Truth and justice are powerful in the souls of men, whatever be the passions which animate them or the prejudices which blind them. It was with the serene sentiment of a great task nobly accomplished that Mr. Peel said to the House of Commons, some months later, "I say without any feeling of hostility or bitterness, I fully knew, from the first day, the dolorous results that the emancipation of the Catholics would have for me, both personally and in my public character; but if the same circumstances should occur again, if I had to take my resolution anew on this subject, and with still more knowledge of the sacrifice, I would announce this evening to the House, a motion to propose that measure."
{462}
Some months after the ratification of the emancipation bill. King George IV. died at Windsor (June 26th, 1830). Great events, both at home and abroad took place under his regency or during his reign. Peace was concluded in Europe after the last efforts of a supreme struggle; the great injustice so long endured by the English Catholics, was removed by the free action of the Protestants. This glory belonged to others rather than to him: he left the Duke of Wellington to conquer at Waterloo--he had so many times recounted the part he had taken in the combat that he finally forgot that he had not left England during that epoch. He left the Duke of Wellington and Mr. Peel to bear alone the burden of a measure to which he was opposed from habit of mind, as well as from personal repugnance, without any conscientious scruples. Brilliant, highly educated and refined, he spread about him, in the intimacy of his court, a baneful influence; corrupt himself and a corrupter of others. The burdens of the foreign wars and the great Parliamentary struggles, left only as their results, demoralization and lasting evil to the country.
Chapter. XLI.
William IV. Parliamentary Reform. (1830-1837).
A grand and consoling spectacle to contemplate, is that throughout the whole course of English history, the great lords and the landed gentry, the masters of the soil and of the national wealth, are always to be found in the front rank in political contests as well as in the army; in Parliament as well as on the field of battle. The English barons had wrested Magna Charta from John Lackland; in the government which was to accomplish a parliamentary reform, useful and legitimate in some respects, doubtful and bold in others, thirteen members of the House of Lords headed the popular movement, resolved to raise high the standard of a reform fatal to their influence and their natural domination. {463} Courageously faithful in its task of moderating the outbursts of the inconsiderate passions of the nation, the English aristocracy has never yielded its right to be the first to brave all dangers, and the first to advance all progress: it has lessened the encroachments of the rising wave of democracy; it has opened its ranks to all signal merit; it has given up its children to common life and common labor, prompt to bear the burden of the national destiny, in all its directions, and ardent to maintain England in that glorious position in the vanguard of liberty, that she has occupied with honor in Europe for many centuries.
Following the emancipation of the Catholics, the parliamentary reform proposed and sustained by Lord John Russell and Lord Grey, was a new and shining example. Confusedly, and without fully comprehending the import of their acts and of their hopes, the Whigs began to see that a new spirit was now animating the world, and that the breath of the French Revolution had not passed in vain over a generation that was slowly disappearing, leaving to its success, a work begun. It was again that the agitation and excitement of the popular passions came from France. The revolution of July, 1830, had substituted upon the throne the younger branch of the House of Bourbon, in place of the elder, which had been induced by fatal counsels to violate its engagements with the nation.
{464}
At the first report of the cannon of King Charles X., some one asked the Duke of Wellington what he thought of the result? "It is a new dynasty," answered the Duke. "And what course shall you take?" "First, a long silence, and then we will concert with our allies what we shall say." The national sympathy of England did not permit so much prudence and reserve. From the month of August it solemnly recognized Louis Philippe--"in the name of the new King of England." William IV. but recently Duke of Clarence, had succeeded his brother George IV. Educated for the navy, he had never shown much talent in his profession: he was an honest prince, of moderate intelligence, without any children living. His wife Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen, was a virtuous and agreeable person, who exercised over the king her husband an influence, often exaggerated by public rumor.
The new Parliament which assembled on the 2nd of November, 1830, had been elected amidst extreme agitation. Disturbances and riots had succeeded the electoral ferment, at many places; the ministry were disturbed during the first day of the session. The day following the address from the throne, the Reformers threw the gauntlet to the cabinet. Lord Grey solemnly announced his views and the end he desired; clever and sensible even in his boldness, and placing in advance the limits which he had resolved not to pass. "That which takes place under our own eyes ought to teach us sagacity; when the spirit of liberty shines around us, it is our first duty to guarantee our institutions by introducing moderate reforms. I have been all my life favorable to reform, but never have I been disposed to go further than to-day, if the occasion should present itself. But I do not rest upon abstract right, my reasons for claiming them. Some say that all men who pay taxes, that all men who have attained their majority, have the right to the electoral suffrage. I deny absolutely this right. The right of the people is to be well governed, in a way to assure its repose and its privileges; if this is incompatible with universal suffrage, or even with an extension of the suffrage, then the restriction, and not the extension of the suffrage becomes the true duty of the people."
{465}
Wise maxims, ignored or unrecognized by the popular passions and the absolute egotism of France, too often forgotten even in England, by reformers more adventurous and less enlightened than Lord Grey. The door that he wished to open, the way that he traced for the future destinies of his country, excited immediately a lively opposition on the part of the Duke of Wellington. He responded without hesitation to Lord Grey: "As for me, I recognize no system of representation to be better and more satisfactory than that which England enjoys; this system possesses and merits the full confidence of the country. I will go further: if, at this moment, the duty were imposed upon me to form a legislature for any country whatever, above all for a country like ours, with great interests of all kinds, I do not think that I would ever be able to form a legislature comparable to this; for human sagacity does not attain at once so excellent an institution. I am not prepared to propose the measure alluded to by the noble lord. Not only am I not prepared to bring forward any measure of this nature, but I will at once declare, that as far as I am concerned, as long as I hold any station in the government of the country, I shall always feel it my duty to resist such measures when proposed by others."
The refusal was more peremptory than the public and even members of the cabinet themselves expected; the external agitation became so great that the king declined to visit London to attend the Lord Mayor's banquet. Seditious movements were feared. On the 15th of November, a motion by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, regarding the Civil List, was voted down; on the 16th the Cabinet resigned: Sir Robert Peel as well as the Duke of Wellington. Lord Grey and his friends, Lord John Russell, Lord Brougham, Lord Palmerston, Lord Melbourne and Lord Althorpe, arrived at power. {466} From the first day they boldly raised the flag of Reform. "That which I proposed when against the government, I have now the power to accomplish," said Lord Grey; "and I engage myself to present immediately to Parliament, a proposition for the reform of our system of representation." Popular agitation was extreme; the counties surrounding London were in a state of open insurrection. After the declaration of Lord Grey, the situation in Ireland became more alarming; the crops had failed, and the sufferings of the people were excessive. O'Connell and his friends, deprived of their weapons by the emancipation of the Catholics, raised anew the question of the union of the two kingdoms: they boldly demanded its repeal. O'Connell overran the counties, haranguing the people and exciting their religious and political passions; careful, however, to recommend that order which he was constantly seeking to disturb, and violating frequently the laws, feeling safe from all prosecution, inasmuch as the government needed his support for the success of its great enterprise. One measure alone occupied the thoughts of the ministers: defeated in Parliament on the Budget, they called to their aid all shades of liberals, modifying the first tenor of their intentions, in order to assure themselves of victory. "My first intention," said Lord Grey to the House of Lords, on the 28th of March, 1831, "was to reduce the reform to limits much more circumscribed. After mature reflection, I am nevertheless convinced that the measure, as actually presented, would alone be able to satisfy the views of all classes, and assure to the government security and respect."
{467}
Two questions occupied the reformers: the suppression of existing abuses and the lawful extension of the political suffrage. I borrow from May's Constitutional History the resumé of the bold measures proposed by Lord John Russell in order to reach this double result:
"The main evil had been the number of nominations, or rotten boroughs enjoying the franchise. Fifty-six of these, having less than two thousand inhabitants, and returning one hundred and eleven members, were swept away. Thirty boroughs, having less than four thousand inhabitants, lost each a member. Weymouth and Welcome Regis lost two. This disfranchisement extended to one hundred and forty-three members. The next evil had been, that large populations were unrepresented; and this was now redressed. Twenty-two large towns, including metropolitan districts, received the privilege of returning two members; and twenty more of returning one. The large county populations were also regarded in the distribution of seats, the number of county members being increased from ninety-four to one hundred and fifty-nine. The larger counties were divided; and the number of members adjusted with reference to the importance of the constituencies. By this distribution of the franchise, the House of Commons was reduced in number from six hundred and fifty-eight to five hundred and ninety-six, or by sixty-two members. The number of electors was more than doubled: it attained in the united kingdom to the number of nine hundred thousand. All narrow rights of election were set aside in boroughs, and a ten pound household franchise was established."
The secret resolutions of the government had been strictly kept; the joyous astonishment of the Reformers equalled the anger of the Conservatives, a new name which the Tories had adopted, in consequence of the attacks of their adversaries upon the Constitution.
{468}
Astonishment and anger were followed by anxiety. Determined resolution on the part of the Conservatives would be able, at the outset, to defeat the bill and overthrow the cabinet. The ministers were not ignorant of this fact. "We often sought to divine the probable conduct of the opposition," subsequently remarked Lord Brougham, then chancellor; "I said; If I was in Peel's place I would not attempt to discuss the question; as soon as Lord John Russell should sit down, I would declare that I was decided not to discuss a measure so revolutionary, so insane, and I would demand an immediate vote. If he does that we are lost." The members of the cabinet who were not in the House of Commons were at table at the house of the chancellor, anxiously waiting for news of the discussion, when the last bulletin finally arrived: "Peel has been speaking for twenty minutes," Lord Brougham shouted for joy. "Hurrah!" cried he, "they discuss--we are saved."
The shrewd instinct of the Reformers had not been deceived; no matter however powerful and reasonable was the discussion, however forcible the arguments against a reform more radical in principle than in its practical application, time and debate were necessarily favorable to a cause growing more and more popular, notwithstanding the commotion and uneasiness of a great part of the nation. Sir Robert Peel had not correctly judged the passions which secretly agitated the masses. "Our judgment is troubled," said he, "by what has just taken place in France. I admit that the resistance of our neighbors to an illegal exercise of authority has been legitimate; but consider what effects popular resistance, even when legitimate, have upon national property, upon industry, and upon the happiness of families. All that I ask of you is that you take time to deliberate upon so grave a question. When the people of England shall recover their strong good sense, they will reproach you for having sacrificed the Constitution of the country in your desire to take advantage of an outburst of popular sentiment."
{469}
"I shall combat this bill to the end, because I believe it fatal to our favored form of mixed government, fatal to the authority of the House of Lords, fatal to that spirit of rest and prudence which has gained for England the confidence of the world, fatal to those habits and to those practices of government which, in protecting efficaciously the property and the liberty of the individual, have given to the executive power of this state, a vigor unknown in any other time and in any other country. If the bill proposed by the ministry is passed, it will introduce amongst us the worst, and the vilest sort of despotism, the despotism of demagogues, the despotism of the press; that despotism which has driven neighboring countries, but recently happy and flourishing, to the very borders of the abyss."
The good sense of the English nation, its wise respect for its traditions, and that political instinct which has always warned it on the eve of extreme peril, protected England again in this instance from those grievous and terrible consequences, predicted in 1831 by Sir Robert Peel, as the inevitable result of the Reform bill. He had, nevertheless, put his finger upon the wound, and justly indicated its effect: the equilibrium of the powers was altered, and henceforth the will of the House of Commons weighed in the balance to regulate the affairs and dispose of the destinies of England, both at home and abroad.
At the second reading of the bill, it passed by a single vote. An amendment by General Gascoigne against the reduction of the total number of the House of Commons passed by a majority of eight. The cabinet felt its measure threatened, and resolved to dissolve Parliament and appeal to the electors. The chancellor undertook to obtain the consent of the king. {470} He went with Lord Grey to the palace. William IV. resisted. "How can I," said he, "after such a fashion, repay the kindness of Parliament; in granting me a most liberal civil list, and giving to the queen a splendid annuity in case she survives me?" And as Lord Brougham explained the political reasons for an immediate dissolution, the King objected: "The great officers of State are not summoned."--"Pardon me, sire," and the Chancellor bowed humbly: "we have taken the great liberty of informing them that your Majesty would have need of their services."--"But the crown, and the royal robes, and the other insignia of ceremony are not prepared."--"I beg your Majesty to pardon my audacity--all is ready."--"But, my Lords, it is impossible; my guards--the troops have not received their orders; they cannot be ready to-day."--"Pardon me, sir; I know how great my presumption has been, but we have counted upon the goodness of your Majesty, upon your desire to save the kingdom and to assure the happiness of your people. I have given the orders--the troops are under arms."--The King, flushed with anger, demanded, "How dare you go so far, my Lord; you know well it is an act of treason--high treason!"--"Yes sir, I know it," replied the chancellor, humbly, though firmly looking the monarch in the face. "I am ready to submit personally to all the punishments that it may please your Majesty to inflict upon me, but I conjure your Majesty anew to hear us and to follow our counsel."
Some hours later, after a violent agitation in the two Houses, that preceded his coming, William IV. read to the assembled Parliament the address which Lord Brougham had previously prepared. The murmurs of surprise and disaffection rendered the voice of the king scarcely audible; they listened only to the first words: "My Lords and Gentlemen, I have come to meet you for the purpose of proroguing this Parliament, with a view to its immediate dissolution."
{471}
Thus prepared and ordered, the elections led, as might have been expected, to scenes of sad disorder. The Reformers, intoxicated with triumph and expectation, indulged in excesses that their more prudent friends were not able to repress. The city of London was illuminated on the night following the dissolution of Parliament. At Edinburgh, the windows not illuminated were broken. The Tory candidates were injured, at many places, and sometimes were in great danger. The populace of Jedburgh insulted the dying Sir Walter Scott. "_Troja fuit,_" wrote he, the same day, in his journal. The popular illusions and ignorances alarmed the more enlightened supporters of the measure.
"In the months of March and April," writes the celebrated Miss Harriet Martineau, passionately engaged all her life in the radical cause, "the great middle class, upon the intelligence of which they counted to pass the bill, expected to see the time come, when it would be necessary to refuse to pay their taxes, and to march upon London to sustain the king, the ministry and the mass of the nation, against a little group of selfish and obstinate demagogues."
The political associations took an account of the number of their disposable adherents; the president of the "Union of Birmingham" declared that he would be able to furnish two armies each of which was as good as the victors of Waterloo. Upon the coast of Sussex ten thousand men declared themselves ready to march at the first signal. Northumberland was ready, Yorkshire was aroused; it might be said that the nation believed itself called upon to march upon London. The opponents of reform trembled at the thought that the cities would be at the mercy of the multitude. "This measure," they said, "will owe its success only to intimidation."
{472}
The Reformers, as well as their opponents, were anxious; after the opening of the new Parliament on the 21st of June, 1831, the king called the attention of the Houses to the disorders which had taken place, as well as to the distress which existed in Ireland, and begged of the legislature energetic remedies for these evils.
On the 21st of September the reform bill passed the House of Commons, by one hundred and nine majority. It was immediately carried by Lord Grey to the House of Lords.
The debate lasted twenty-five days, and was powerful and grave; sustained by men who knew their influence in the state was menaced. They were, nevertheless, more occupied with the safety of the country than with their personal authority. "I know the courage of your Lordships," said Lord Grey, "and your proud susceptibility to anything that looks like a menace; and I repudiate all thought of intimidation, but I conjure you, if you attach any value to your rights and privileges, if you hope to transmit them intact to your posterity, to lend an ear to the wishes of the people. Do not assume an attitude which would show you deaf to the voice of nine-tenths of the nation, which appeals to your wisdom in an accent too clear not to be heard, too decisive not to be comprehended. I do not say, as was said on a previous occasion by a noble Duke (Wellington), that the rejection of this measure would lead to civil war: I have confidence that such would not be the effect; but I foresee consequences which cause me to tremble for the security of this House, and for this nation. It is in the name of the tranquillity and prosperity of your country that I conjure your Lordships to reflect well, before rejecting this measure."
{473}
For a moment events seemed to justify the dolorous predictions of the Duke of Wellington. During the discussion upon Catholic emancipation and after the rejection of the reform bill in the House of Lords (by forty-five majority), civil war seemed imminent. At Derby, at Nottingham, and above all at Bristol, violent disturbances took place, but were immediately repressed, without great effort on the part of the government. Riots and tumults were constantly fomented by political associations; these however were definitely suppressed by that reaction which always follows great disorders, as well as by the severe chastisement of the leaders, three of whom suffered capital punishment during the month of December, 1831.
A new reform bill was now presented to the House of Commons, by Lord John Russell. Some reasonable modifications had been introduced. One important change was to leave intact the total number of members of the House.
This bill, like the first, passed the House by a large majority, notwithstanding the efforts of Sir Robert Peel. Lord John Russell indicated the importance of the measure, with the same anxious solicitude which had recently characterized the efforts of Lord Grey in the House of Lords. He claimed that the government had weighty and serious reasons for proposing this measure. It had been convinced, for some time past, that a law was necessary to obviate abuses that it desires to correct, and to escape convulsions that it wishes to avoid. If Parliament refused to sanction this measure, it would lead to an inevitable collision between that party which opposes all parliamentary reform, and that other party which is only satisfied with universal suffrage. "In consequence, torrents of blood would flow," said he, "and I am perfectly convinced that the English Constitution would perish in the conflict."
{474}
Secret negotiations were carried on in the House of Lords. The ministry demanded the creation of new peers, destined to modify the majority; the king hesitated for a long time, convinced of the necessity of reform, but seriously opposed to the means suggested. When he finally consented to make use of his prerogative, the cabinet had resolved to attempt one more venture. The second reading was voted by a majority of nine. Some hostile peers were absent; most of the bishops voted for the bill. But an amendment by Lord Lyndhurst made trouble for the Reformers. He proposed, and the House of Lords voted by a majority of thirty-five, that the new privileges accorded to the towns and counties should be put in force before the abrogation of the old rights of the boroughs. Upon this decision, which gravely modified the law, and upon the refusal of the king to create immediately sixty new peers, the whole ministry resigned.
It is in vain that timid prudence and sagacity attempt to stem the irresistible tide of popular passions; those who have excited them invariably fail to restrain them. The king called upon the Duke of Wellington--always ready to brave danger. "I would not dare to show myself in the street," said he, "if I refused to aid my sovereign in the difficult position in which he is now placed." All the efforts of the illustrious hero failed, nevertheless, before the impossibility of forming a cabinet. Sir Robert Peel refused a place in it. William IV. demanded that his new councillors should themselves present a bill, more in conformity with the desires and opinions of a great number of conservatives, than that of Lord John Russell.
[Image] Wellington In The Mob.
{475}
"I have obstinately opposed the bill on principle," said Peel, "and I do not know how I could rise and recommend, as minister, the adoption of a similar measure. No authority, the example of no man, nor any union of men, would tempt me to accept power under such circumstances and with such conditions."
An address of the House of Commons called the attention of the king to the critical state of affairs. William IV., wounded and irritated, yielded with bitter regret. He recalled the Whig cabinet and authorized it, in writing, to create the number of peers necessary to assure the triumph of the reform bill. It was unnecessary to have recourse to this extreme measure. The Duke of Wellington, as well as the king, comprehended that the time had come for the House of Lords to yield to the external pressure. William IV. wrote to his friends to absent themselves. Upon the renewal of the discussion, the duke arose, and followed by one hundred peers, left the House and did not return until after the passage of the reform bill. "If the lords of the opposition had remained firm," subsequently said Lord Grey, as well as Lord Brougham, "we would probably have been beaten, and the bill would have failed, for we would not have exacted the fullfilment of the kings promise." When William IV. and his intimate advisers bowed their heads before the violence of public opinion, they judged more accurately the irresistible force of the current let loose by the Reformers; the time for resistance, as well as the time for moderation, was past.
The new elections soon demonstrated this, as everywhere throughout the country, the populace manifested great violence toward the adversaries of the triumphant Reform. In London, on the 18th of June, 1832, the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo, while riding through the streets, the Duke of Wellington was assailed by an indignant mob that literally covered him with dirt and insults. {476} He pursued tranquilly his route, walking his horse. A furious rioter seized the bridle and attempted to drag him from his saddle; he was obliged to take refuge in the house of a friend, protected by a number of young lawyers of Lincoln's Inn, who came to his assistance. The next day the king, while in attendance at the races at Ascot, was grievously wounded by a stone. His self-possession and courage equalled the composure of the duke--as imperturbable among the rioters, as indifferent to the applause of the populace. All the windows of Apsley House were broken in a moment of public frenzy. Wellington forbade the replacing of those of the second story. At the return of popular favor, as the people followed the duke with acclamations, he advanced without turning his head, without giving a sign, to the very door of his house; there dismounting from his horse, he pointed with his hand toward the broken windows, shrugged his shoulders and entered the house without uttering a single word.
The condition of the finances was serious; the monetary crises had long weighed upon commerce, and political agitation had alarmed and diminished the same. In order to meet the deficit in the public revenue, the ministry proposed important retrenchments in the war and navy departments--measures always favorably received by the people, who see in them a guarantee of peace, without realizing that they may become fatal to peace, as well as to the national power. Ireland was aroused more violently than ever; the Catholics, re-established in their political and civil rights, demanded, by the voice of their agitators, the abolition of the tithes with which they were burdened for the benefit of the Church of England.
{477}
The first care of the Irish leaders, was to counsel the peasants to refuse to pay these tithes. Scenes of disorder recommenced; everywhere crimes against individuals increased tenfold. Scarcely had the Reform Parliament reassembled, when it was called upon to consider a bill of repression, energetically practical, which would moderate for a time at least these outrages. At the same time, and in order to appease the Catholic Irish party, who were everywhere allied to the radicals, Lord Althorpe presented a bill for the reduction of the Protestant ecclesiastical establishment in Ireland: feeble precursor of the work that we have seen accomplished in our day, and already at that time so vigorously attacked by the conservatives, that the ministry was obliged to mitigate its tenor before obtaining a majority in the House of Lords.
Parliament, at this time, was also obliged to sanction an issue of bills of exchequer in favor of the clergy in Ireland, impoverished by the loss of the tithes. The tithes were imposed upon the protestant landholders, who, however, added them to their rents.
The excitement and irritation in Ireland appeared for a moment subdued; but already, from all parts of the kingdom, arose a cry of anger and of disappointment: reform ought to have a remedy for all evils; parliamentary reform ought to relieve all misery.
"Of what use is the new parliament," asked Ashwood, on the 21st of March, 1833, "if actual distress is not relieved? What will the people say of a reform parliament which has already sat so many weeks without having undertaken a single measure in favor of those who are suffering? A general, an extreme, an extraordinary distress weighs upon the whole country. Large numbers of the agricultural laborers are worn out by excessive toil; many others have nothing to do and die of hunger; labor is poorly remunerated; manufacturers realize scarcely any profit; many work at a loss; commerce declines in the same proportion, and a hundred thousand men wander about the streets of London, seeking work but finding none."
{478}
At this time, and in this agitated and difficult situation, it is to the credit of the Whig cabinet that it did not allow itself to be carried away by the uneasiness and discontent of its partisans, nor by the ardor that animated its own members; it was also to the credit of the Tories, a small number of whom were returned to the new House, that they maintained a firm attitude, resolved and candid, never descending to a fatal alliance with the radicals.
Sir Robert Peel, at the opening of the session, said, with honest pride: "As long as I shall see the government disposed to defend, against all rash innovation, the rights of property, the authority of law, the order of things established and regular, I shall believe it my duty, without taking account of the sentiments of party, to range myself on its side. I avow frankly that my fears regarding this House are not that it will be too ready to believe that all is evil which is established and old; I do not doubt the good intentions of the majority, but I fear that the greater part of its members have come here with the impression that the institutions under which they live are full of abuses that should be reformed, and that they have too great confidence in our means of providing a remedy. Three months will not have passed, I am convinced, before they will find themselves disappointed in their expectations; it is absolutely impossible that they should be satisfied. I have learned with satisfaction that the ministers of his Majesty, although disposed to reform all real abuses, are at the same time resolved to stand by the Constitution as it now is, and to reject all experiments that might cause anxiety in the public mind; I am decided to sustain them in that resolution."
{479}
It was not only questions actual and pressing that the Reform Parliament had to deal with, such as the financial measures, the re-chartering of the Bank of England, and the modification of the system of government in both the East and West Indies, but also greater questions of humanity and policy; the abolition of slavery, and the repeal of the Union with Ireland, equally importunate and urgent, and ardently sustained or opposed by their respective partisans.
The resistance of the colonies to the projected measures in favor of the blacks, had become violent; a natural alarm had taken possession of the slaveholders, disgusted by the disposition to revolt that they saw day by day developing itself among the negroes, and threatened by a ruin that they feared would be complete. Already the local legislatures had refused to accede to the orders of the Council, relative to the treatment of the slaves; but Parliamentary reform had given a new impetus to the generous zeal of the abolitionists. The government took the question boldly in hand, justly weighing in the balance the interests of the colonists, and the legitimate impatience of the faithful partisans of the blacks. It was an effort requiring courage and equity, at a time of such great financial embarrassment, to present to a Parliament ardently favorable to the abolition of slavery, a measure tending to the purchase of the blacks, and requiring an indemnity to the planters of twenty million pounds sterling.
{480}
The commerce of the West Indies had suffered severely; the value of property had diminished, and the colonists accepted this new and considerable reduction of their fortunes, not without profound sadness, but without violence and without revolt. The abolitionists protested against the liberality of the government; national equity, however, recognized the good will and sagacity which had inspired the report presented by Mr. Stanley; the bill was finally passed by a large majority. Slavery was thus abolished practically, as well as in principle; and England obtained the honor of having first, without political obligation, without revolutionary shock, in the name of the most elevated sentiments of Christian philanthropy, given liberty to eight hundred thousand slaves, thereby affording a noble example of justice and virtue to all Christian nations.
The struggle for the abolition of slavery had been long and difficult; persistently sustained in the face of frequent disappointments and serious obstacles, it was finally brought to a successful termination, to the great joy of its promoters. The sincere and prudent friends of Ireland, were met by a problem more grave still; a problem which seemed insoluble; that of the repose and prosperity of that unhappy country, rent asunder anew by insane agitators. The first motion for the "Repeal of the Union" was presented to Parliament on the 22nd of April, 1834, by the celebrated Daniel O'Connell. It was seriously opposed by Mr. Spring Rice, and when put to vote, was defeated by a majority of five hundred and twenty-three against thirty-eight in the House of Commons, and unanimously by the Lords. But immediately the ecclesiastical question was raised. Mr. Ward proposed another reduction in the legal establishment of the Anglican Church in Ireland. The Cabinet was divided upon the question; the most conservative members of the ministry, "the leaven" of Mr. Canning, Mr. Stanley, Sir John Graham, and the Duke of Richmond, gave in their resignations. The Bishops of Ireland addressed an appeal to the king: they were ready, they said, to co-operate for the redress of all serious abuses, but they begged that the government would not imprudently disturb the discipline and the services of the Church. {481} The response of William was thoroughly Protestant and English; it betrayed the widening of the breach that already existed between the monarch and his Cabinet. The ministry had lost much ground in public confidence; a difference which arose between Lords Grey and Althorp, upon the subject of the renewal of the Irish coercion bill, soon deprived the Cabinet of its chief. Lord Grey tendered his resignation, and announced it himself in the House of Lords with an emotion that twice overpowered him. Finally, for the third time, he began: "My lords, I feel quite ashamed of the sort of weakness I show on this occasion, a weakness which arises from my deep sense of the personal kindness which, during my having been in his service, I have received from my sovereign. However, my lords, I have a duty to perform, which, painful as it may be, I must discharge: I no longer address you as a minister of the crown, but as an individual member of Parliament. In retiring during the course of the administration of which I was chief, I feel confident of having acted in the spirit of the time, without having ever preceded or retarded its march."
The efforts of the ministry thus mutilated and lessened, to govern powerfully were vain. The bill regarding the Irish Church, proposed by Lord Melbourne, was rejected by the House of Lords. The violence of the attacks of the press redoubled; disorder in Ireland increased: the king declared frankly to Lord Melbourne that he had no confidence in his cabinet, and that he intended to recall the Duke of Wellington (November, 1834).
{482}
It was under the weight of its own efforts, and of the movement that it had itself inaugurated, that the great Whig ministry, so wisely and ably directed by Lord Grey, succumbed. It had opened the way to wild hopes and infinite illusions, without the power to satisfy the one, or moderate the other; it was swept away by a rising wave which it vainly endeavored to resist. It is to its honor and lasting glory, that it used prudently and courageously the immense power, still new and confused, that parliamentary reform had placed in its hand, without exceeding the limits which it had itself imposed. Its measures were moderate and wise, its resistance to the desires and insensate passions of the masses were honest and firm. Lord Grey remained popular, even after the fall of his ministry. The internal affairs of the nation had been so important, and the interests involved so pressing, that the foreign policy of the cabinet had received but little attention in either house, and was almost lost sight of by the general public. It had nevertheless touched upon weighty matters, essential to the repose of Europe; the relations of England with the French government after the revolution of 1830, the formation of the kingdom of Belgium, and the Spanish question. These last two European complications had put to the test the good feeling which existed between the French and English governments: they had definitively served to confirm and strengthen the alliance of the two nations. The recognition of Louis Philippe by England had been cordial and prompt; very different from the ill-humor and repugnance manifested by Prussia and Russia. It had its origin in a spontaneous and sincere national sentiment, the adhesion of the country to the liberal and conservative policy which had succeeded the revolutionary movement in France. The new union and the good understanding which naturally resulted from this attitude of England, contributed powerfully to the happy issue of the Belgium question. {483} The smouldering dissatisfaction which had existed throughout several centuries, between the Flemish Low Countries and Holland, had finally burst forth; the union was abruptly broken. Immediately following the separation, the new state demanded of the King Louis Philippe, one of his sons for the throne of Belgium. He refused. "The Low Countries have always been a stumbling block to the peace of Europe," said he to Guizot. "None of the great powers can see them in the hands of another, without great inquietude and jealousy. Let them become by general consent an independent and neutral state, and that state will become the keystone of the arch of European order." These wise and prudent views were approved by both the English and French cabinets. The King Louis Philippe had sent Talleyrand to London, and Lord Granville was the English ambassador at Paris. Both were well qualified for the work they had undertaken; the efficacious union of France and England for the maintenance of the peace of Europe.
The first result of their efforts was the accession of the Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg to the throne of Belgium. But lately the adored husband of the Princess Charlotte of England, and still popular in his adopted country, the new sovereign bound himself to France by espousing the Princess Louise, eldest daughter of Louis Philippe.
The two powers testified their satisfaction and good-will by delivering his country from the presence of the Holland forces. After an agreement signed at London on the 22nd of October, 1832, not without a certain distrust on the part of Lord Palmerston, charged with the administration of foreign affairs in the cabinet of Lord Grey, the Belgian fortresses still occupied by the Holland troops were evacuated. A French army under Marshal Gérard, accompanied by the young Duke of Orleans, laid siege to Anvers. This place, already the scene of so many bloody conflicts, and so many diplomatic negotiations, during centuries past, was obliged to capitulate, on the 23rd of December, 1832. {484} The kingdom of Belgium was now definitively constituted, and destined to prosper rapidly under its wise and prudent sovereign, who constantly endeavored to maintain around him that equilibrium so essential to the preservation of peace in Europe, and so indispensable to the development as well as the security of his little state.
Spain had been for a long time the object of profound anxiety to the astute statesmen of Europe. King Ferdinand VII. had just died (September, 1833), leaving the succession to the throne contested, notwithstanding the definitive act, sanctioned by the Cortes, which had assured the crown to his eldest daughter Isabella. Hesitating for a long time between family affection and those absolute tendencies which had exiled into France all the intelligent liberals of Spain, the monarch who had just breathed his last, had scattered the seeds of the Carlist insurrection, which broke out immediately after his death. A numerous and obstinate party sustained the right of the infant Don Carlos to the throne, in the name of the Salic law established in Spain by the pragmatic sanction of Philip V., and recognized for some time by Ferdinand VII. himself. The English and French cabinets did not hesitate; by common consent they recognized the titles of the young Queen Isabella II., as conformable to the ancient Spanish law accepted by the nation. Civil war broke out in Spain. It had already begun in Portugal, where the usurper Don Miguel, contended in the name of the same principles for the exclusion of the young Queen Donna Maria. Already the new governments of the two kingdoms were compelled to ask assistance of the great constitutional and liberal powers.
{485}
On the 15th of April, 1834, the triple alliance was concluded at London between England, Spain and Portugal. A month later, and upon the objection of the French government to the presumptions, exclusively English, of Lord Palmerston, France in her turn joined the alliance already known and powerful in Europe, although no armed intervention had seconded the popular movement. Civil war did not cease in Spain; it lasted for a long time, breaking out anew at irregular intervals, yet always ardent and obstinate. Meanwhile Don Carlos had embarked for England, and Don Miguel had finally quitted Portugal, and retired into Italy. Everywhere French and English diplomacy had been moderately but firmly exerted in the service of the public welfare, and had everywhere brought forth good fruit.
Wearied by the yoke that the Whigs had imposed upon him, and by the violence he had done to his own views and inclinations, the king called upon the Duke of Wellington. For the first time that noble hero refused to serve his sovereign. "No sir," said he, "in the new order of things the difficulties lie in the House of Commons; and as that House now has the preponderance, its chief ought to direct the government. Address yourself to Sir Robert Peel; I will serve under him in any position that it shall please your majesty to place me." Sir Robert Peel was in Italy--so also was Fox, when called upon to succeed Pitt. While awaiting his return, the Duke of Wellington, in concert with Lord Lyndhurst, appointed chancellor, conducted alone the affairs of the government, and taking charge of three ministerial departments, without other solicitude than the prompt expedition of the work, he cared but little for the objections which were raised against this irregular administration. Sir Robert Peel accepted the burden which was imposed upon him and upon his friends, without either co-operation or support from without. Lord Stanley and Sir James Graham refused to enter the cabinet. The Tories found themselves alone in the face of a House of Commons profoundly hostile. Parliament was immediately dissolved.
{486}
Sir Robert Peel, in expounding his principles in a long address to his constituents at Tamworth, said: "I will repeat the declaration which I made when I entered the House of Commons as a member of the Reformed Parliament;--I consider the reform bill as a final and irrevocable settlement of a great constitutional question--a settlement which no friend to the peace and welfare of his country would attempt to disturb, either by direct or indirect means. If by the adoption of the spirit of the reform bill, it becomes necessary to live in a perpetual vortex of agitation, that public men can only sustain themselves in public opinion by yielding to popular demands of each day, by promising to redress immediately all abuses that may be pointed out, by abandoning that great support of the government, more efficacious than law or reason itself--the respect for ancient rights and authorities consecrated by time; if that is the spirit of the reform bill, I will not support it. If the spirit of the bill implies merely a careful review of institutions, civil and ecclesiastical, undertaken in a friendly temper; combining, with the firm maintenance of established rights, the correction of proved abuses and the redress of real grievances;--in that case I can for myself and my colleagues undertake to act with such a spirit and with such intentions."
And some weeks later, after his first check in the new Parliament, upon the election of speaker, he continued: "I make you great offers, which ought not to be inconsiderately rejected. I offer you the prospect of a durable peace, the return of the confidence of powerful states who are disposed to seize this occasion to reduce their armies and remove the danger of hostile collisions. {487} I offer you reduced estimates, improvements in civil jurisprudence, reform of ecclesiastical laws, the settlement of the tithe question in Ireland, the commutation of tithes in England, the removal of any real abuse in the Church, and the redress of those grievances of which the dissenters have any just ground to complain. I offer also the best chance that these things can be effected, in willing concert with the other authorities of the state--thus restoring harmony, insuring the maintenance, but not excluding the reform, where reform is really requisite, of ancient institutions. You may reject my offers, you may refuse to hear them, but if you do so, the time is approaching when you will perceive that the popular sentiment upon which you have relied has abandoned you."
Party passion was at this time too violent and party animosity too intense, for the newly elected house to lend an ear to this wise and patriotic language. O'Connell had sold the support of the Irish Catholics to the Whigs, and his price was the "Repeal of the Union." "I belong to the Repeal," said he to the electors, "dead or alive, saved or lost, I belong to the Repeal; and I make a solemn engagement with those who are the most opposed to me, to serve them in all things, in a way to render the transition not only without danger, but perfectly easy."
The deputies of the counties were for the most part Conservatives, but the towns and boroughs gave a majority for the Whigs. Sir Robert Peel accepted many checks without recoiling before the danger, presenting day after day to Parliament the measures which he believed to be useful to the public service; determined to defy the opposition as long as it did not touch upon points that he regarded as vital questions. Lord John Russell was not tardy in responding to this defiance. {488} On the 30th of March, 1835, he renewed the attack but lately directed against the Irish Church: "Missionary Church," he said, "instituted with a view of leading the Irish population to the Protestant faith, adapted to future wants that had been foreseen but had never yet manifested themselves." He proposed then to revise the ecclesiastical establishment by applying to public instruction the sums and endowments which were now found necessary for the religious maintenance of the curates and their flocks. With Sir Robert Peel it was now a question of conscience as well as of absolute conviction. Seconded by Lord Stanley, he maintained that the ecclesiastical property proceeded from endowments made to the Church, and properly belonged to it, and that no one had the right to divert the same from its primitive and religious destination. The motion of Lord John Russell was carried, however, by a vote of three hundred and twenty-two against two hundred and eighty-nine. The majority was in the hands of the Irish Catholics.
Sir Robert Peel and his friends resolved to retire. They had risen in the contest which they had so courageously sustained for four months; their adversaries, as well as the entire country, felt this, and they hastened to seize again the reins of power.
"No indifference for public life, no distaste for the fatigues and weariness that it imposes, no consideration of personal comfort, no grief of private life, would authorize a public man, in my estimation, to desert without imperative reason the post to which his sovereign has called him," said Sir Robert Peel, in the House of Commons, on the 8th of April, 1835. "But at the same time, it is a great misfortune to present to the country the spectacle of a government which does not find in the House of Commons the support necessary to safely conduct the affairs of the country, nor exercise upon the acts of that House an influence which confidence alone can give; to such a spectacle of feebleness there are limits, which one ought not to pass."
{489}
During six years of alternate languor and energy, the cabinet of Lord Melbourne governed England; master of the House of Commons, and for a long time powerful in the country, losing however little by little its popularity as well as its resources, and slowly conquered by that adversary which had but recently predicted its fall. "You will have no other alternative than to invoke our aid and replace the government in the hands from which you wish to wrest it to-day," said Sir Robert Peel, in the month of December, 1834, "or have recourse to that pressure from without, to those methods of compulsion and of violence which will render your reforms vain, and will seal the death warrant of the British Constitution."
Lord Grey had never renounced power; "susceptible and proud, with a mind more elevated than discerning, he was unskilful in defending himself from small intrigues that he was incapable of plotting." Worn out by a long life devoted to politics, he was sad in his noble retirement, notwithstanding the affection of his wife and numerous children, and the profound respect always shown him by those who had served under his banners. Lord Althorpe, now become Earl Spencer, as well as Lord Brougham, took no part in the new cabinet. Lord Melbourne, Lord John Russell and Lord Palmerston, sagacious in different degrees, undertook to continue the work of reform, but lately victoriously begun, and more difficult to accomplish, with prudent moderation, than its ardent defenders had at first foreseen. Many changes, but recently loudly demanded, were silently abandoned; they compromised upon the Irish Church question, agreeing to the conditions proposed by Sir Robert Peel; only the reform of the municipal corporations was accomplished slowly and with difficulty in Ireland, useful nevertheless and everywhere accepted. {490} The struggle was severe, and bold hands were raised against the foundations of the English Constitution, and against the hereditary rights of the House of Lords. But at the same time that the audacity of the Reformers increased and developed a spirit of resistance, a reaction, sober and moderate, firmly resolved to defend those ancient institutions which have been the grandeur as well as the security of England. It was in support of these principles that Sir Robert Peel, on the 11th of January, 1836, addressed his friends and adherents assembled at Glasgow to elect a rector for the university. A great number of the persons present had but recently been warm supporters of the reform movement. "If you adhere to the principles which you professed in 1830, it is here you ought to come," said Sir Robert Peel. "You consented to a reform, invited by a speech from the throne, expressly on the condition that it should be according to the acknowledged principles of the Constitution. I see the necessity of widening the foundations on which the defence of our Constitution and religious establishment must rest, but I do not wish to conciliate your confidence by hoisting false colors. My object is to support our national establishments which connect Protestantism with the State, in the three realms. I avow to you that I mean to support in its full integrity the House of Lords, as an essential, indispensable condition for maintaining the Constitution under which we live. If you assent to this opinion, the hour is arrived when we must all be prepared to act on the declaration of it. The disturbing force of foreign example has diminished; the dazzling illusions of the glorious days have passed away, and the affections of the people are visibly gravitating again to their old centre, full of a respect for property, a love for national freedom, and an attachment to long established institutions."
{491}
"From these walls I trust a spirit will go forth to animate the desponding and encourage the timid. I look to the moral influence of that opinion, which constitutes the chief defence of nations. I look to it for the maintenance of that system of government which protects the rich from spoliation, and the poor from oppression. I look to that spirit which will range itself under no tawdry banner of revolution, but will unfurl and rally round the flag which has braved for a thousand years the battle and the breeze. I do not doubt that it will continue to float triumphantly, and that our Constitution, tried as it has been in the storms of adversity, will come forth purified and fortified in the rooted convictions, feelings and affections of a religious, moral and patriotic people."
It was against his personal inclinations, but in conformity to constitutional principles sincerely accepted and practised, that King William IV. had successively sanctioned the important reforms which were accomplished under his reign. His royal task was soon to terminate; from day to day his health became more feeble, and on the 20th of June, 1837, he expired at Windsor. The supreme power fell into the hands of his young niece, the Princess Victoria, daughter of the Duke of Kent, who, on the same day, was proclaimed Queen, at Kensington. The new sovereign of the three kingdoms, England, Scotland, and Ireland, whose laws extend over so many distant colonies and diverse peoples, was only eighteen years of age.
We have momentarily closed the History of France with the death of the ancient Régime, at the confused and menacing beginning of a terrible revolution, continued through many years, the memory of which still profoundly agitates that country; we will close the History of England at the death of King William IV., at the beginning of a new reign, tenderly greeted by the nation, destined to a long prosperity, rarely interrupted by wars--always gloriously terminated.
{492}
Reforms have continued: bold and moderate, wise and prudent, without ever altering the fundamental character of the Constitution, yet profound enough to maintain England in the first rank among liberal and free countries. The first to march to battle for the great political rights of humanity; she has gained them not without errors, not without crimes; she has preserved and protected them after having definitively closed the fatal era of revolutions. A noble spectacle and fortifying example, which fills us with admiration and with a generous envy, without however discouraging us, nor disturbing us in our fond hope for our well beloved country; she has long sought repose in order, and security in liberty; she has often caught sight of these, and she will assuredly find them one day.
While awaiting that supreme hour, the constant aim of our efforts, it is our duty and our honor to seek everywhere in the experience of history, as in the lessons of the present, the power of sustaining without wavering the flag of noble hopes, that flag which has been bequeathed to us by dying hands, with the watchword of the old Roman Emperor: "Laboremus--Laboremus."