Clarendon was much pleased with his visit to the Emperor, who talked to him very frankly and unreservedly about everything. They lit their cigars and sat and talked with the greatest ease. He said the Emperor spoke to him about the English press, and all he said was sensible and true; that he was aware that a free press was a necessity in England, and as indispensable as the Constitution itself, and that he had hitherto believed that the editors of the principal newspapers had the good of their country at heart, and always acted from conscientious motives; but that he could no longer entertain that opinion. The press during the past months, and the 'Times' particularly, had done an incalculable amount of mischief to England and to the alliance between us. The effect produced by their language in Germany was most injurious, and of service only to Russia. When the English papers talked of their own country in the way they did, of its degradation and disgrace, its maladministration, the ruin of its military power, and the loss of all that makes a nation great and powerful, though he (the Emperor) knew what all this meant, and how much or how little of truth there was in such exaggerated statements, yet in France they were generally believed, and it became very difficult for him to reconcile the nation to an alliance for which he was reproached with making sacrifices and shaping his policy in accordance with our's, when it was evident from our own showing that our alliance was not worth having, and our impotence was so exposed that, whenever peace should put an end to the necessity of the alliance, we should be entirely at their mercy; and while such was the feeling in France, in Germany it was still stronger, and there the 'Times' had succeeded in creating a universal conviction that we are in the lowest condition of weakness and inefficiency: at all of which he expressed the greatest regret. I was surprised to hear Clarendon say that he did not believe the resources of Russia to carry on the contest to be in any sensible degree exhausted, that her commerce had not suffered at all, and as to her finances she could go on for a good while with her paper money and the gold which, in a certain quantity, she drew from the Ural Mountains.[1]
[1] [In justice to the conductors of the 'Times' it must be said that although the language of the paper was violent and extremely annoying to the Government and its Allies, yet it was by the power and enterprise of the press that the deplorable state of the army was brought to the knowledge of the public and even of Ministers themselves; and it was by the 'Times' that the first steps were taken to supply the deficiencies of the Administration. The fund raised by voluntary contributions for this purpose amounted to 25,000l. and competent persons were sent out to apply it to the most pressing wants of the army.]
CHAPTER IX.
The Vienna Conference—Literary Occupations—A Roman Catholic Privy Councillor—Negotiations at Vienna—The Emperor Napoleon in London—The Emperor's brilliant Reception—Russia refuses the Terms offered—The Sebastopol Committee—Debate on the War—Visit to Paris—Resignation of M. Drouyn de Lhuys—The Emperor's Journey to the Crimea—The Repulse at the Redan—Visit to Thiers—A Dinner at the Tuileries—Conversation with the Emperor—M. Guizot on the War—Death of Lord Raglan—A Dinner at Princess Lieven's—The Palace of Versailles—Revelations of Lord John Russell's Mission—Dinner with the Emperor at Villeneuve l'?tang—Lord John Russell's Conduct at Vienna—Excitement in London—Lord John's Resignation—Lord John's Conduct explained—'Whom shall we Hang?'—Prorogation of Parliament.
March 31st, 1855.—Three weeks have passed away and I have had nothing to say; nor indeed have I anything now of the least importance, and can only glance at the general aspect of affairs. The Government, on the whole, seems in a somewhat better condition. They say Palmerston speaks better than he did, and his good humour and civility please. At last the offices, except the Under-Secretaryship to the Colonies, are filled up. Lord Elgin and Lord Seymour successively refused the Duchy of Lancaster, and after going a begging for many weeks Lord Harrowby has taken it. Laing and Wilson, and I think somebody else, declined the Vice Presidency of the Board of Trade, and they have got Bouverie.
Within these few days the hopes of peace have waxed faint. The fatal third point is an insurmountable obstacle, and it seems likely that we shall be condemned to fight it out more fiercely than ever, and without Austria, who, as I all along expected, will not join us in forcing hard conditions on Russia. It remains to be seen whether we or Austria are in fault, assuming the rupture of the negotiations to be inevitable. If Austria recedes from what she had already agreed to, she is; if we require anything more, we are. Drouyn de Lhuys has been here for twenty-four hours, and goes on to Vienna directly to bring things to a conclusion one way or another. Clarendon is pleased with him. The Emperor is to be here in three weeks.
Having no public events nor any secret information to record, I must put down my own private concerns, uninteresting as they are. I am busy on the task of editing a volume of Moore's correspondence left to me by John Russell, and finishing the second article upon King Joseph's Memoirs.[1] These small literary occupations interest and amuse me, and, being quite out of the way of politics, and seeing nobody, except Clarendon at rare intervals, who can or will tell me anything, it is well I can amuse myself with them; and now that I am growing old (for I shall be sixty-one the day after to-morrow) it is my aim to cultivate these pleasures more and more, and make them my refuge against the infirmities which beset me, and the loss of youth. My great fear is lest my eyesight should fail, and I earnestly hope I may die before such a calamity should befall me.
The war goes languidly on, and I hear Raglan and Canrobert are squabbling instead of acting, and that it seems to be more the fault of Canrobert; but the melancholy truth is that there are two incompetent generals in command, who have no skill or enterprise, and are letting the opportunity for attacking the enemy slip away. A divided command and two independent armies are in themselves an immense drawback, but when they begin to disagree it becomes fatal. We have now an enormous force there, and yet they seem incapable of doing anything and of striking any great and serious blow.
[1] [Mr. Greville wrote the review of the Memoirs of King Joseph Bonaparte which appeared in two successive articles of the Edinburgh Review.]
April 1st.—I went to a Council yesterday and got into a difficulty. Without any previous notice, Mr. Monsell, a Roman Catholic, came to be made a Privy Councillor. I had never sworn a Roman Catholic and did not know what to do, so I proposed to Monsell to put it off till another day, and meanwhile I would ascertain how he was to be sworn. The difficulty was told to the Queen, and the Prince set about finding what was to be done. He looked out the 10th George IV. (Emancipation Act), and, just as we were summoned into the Queen's presence, Granville brought the volume, put it into my hands, and told me I must administer to Monsell the oath set forth there, in lieu of the oaths of abjuration and supremacy. I was sure it was a mistake; but there was no time to remonstrate, and I was compelled to bring him in and administer the oath. As soon as I got back to my office and looked into the matter I found it was all wrong, and that he had not, in fact, been sworn at all. What he ought to have done was to take this oath in one of the Law Courts, and then to have the Privy Councillor's oath administered to him, and so I sent him word.
Afterwards I met Sidney Herbert, and he told me what he believed to be the cause of Drouyn de Lhuys' coming here, and the actual state of affairs at Vienna. We have proposed the reduction of the fleet; the Russians refuse. The Emperor Napoleon would like, if possible, to obtain some great success in the Crimea, and is not indisposed to continue the war if he can see a reasonable hope of such an achievement; but when he despairs of this his mind inclines to the other alternative, to make peace (which would be popular in France), and he does not care very much about the terms and is not averse to waive the condition as to the fleet. But our Government want to insist on it, or go on with the war, and Sidney Herbert believes they have succeeded in talking over Drouyn de Lhuys and persuading him to join us in this determination, and to carry it off to Vienna. However, he is very likely to be talked over again there, and it remains to be seen whether the Emperor, if he really wishes for peace, will not join with Austria in opposing us, and accepting some other conditions. I always fancied that we had come to a regular unmistakeable agreement with Austria what we should ask of Russia, and that she had bound herself to join in the war if the terms agreed in were refused, but, according to Sidney Herbert, this has never been done. Clarendon did, indeed, at last state distinctly to Austria the terms on which France and England meant to insist, and Austria expressed her concurrence in them as a matter of opinion, and her desire to obtain them, consenting also to unite her efforts to theirs in attempting to obtain them; but she never consented to go to war if they were not conceded, therefore we have no reason to complain of her if the negotiations break off on these grounds, and she refuses to depart from her neutrality. She has all along said, she wished with all her heart we could succeed in taking Sebastopol, but as we had not succeeded, and apparently could not, it was impossible to press very stringent terms on Russia; and she has never held out any expectation to us of joining in the war against Russia, unless Russia refuses such reasonable and not humiliating terms of peace as she herself thinks indispensable for the objects to the attainment of which she has all along been a party. The best chance of peace now is that the Emperor Napoleon may think he is not likely to do any great things in the Crimea and that peace is his best policy, and he is the real arbiter of peace and war. If he prefers following in the wake of England, and to defer to our war policy, peace will ascend to Heaven, and the odious war will be resumed with more fury than ever, and no one can guess how long it will last, nor what will be the end of it.
April 17th.—Yesterday I went out 'with all the gazing town' to see not the least curious of the many curious events I have lived to witness, the entry of the Emperor and Empress of the French into London. The day was magnificent, the crowd prodigious, the reception not very clamorous, but cordial and respectful. A fine sight for them to see such vast multitudes, so orderly and so prosperous, and without a single soldier except their own escort. The Queen received them with the utmost cordiality, and omitted none of the usual forms practised between Sovereigns. She met the Imperial pair at the entrance to the Castle, embraced the Emperor and then the Empress when she was presented to her.
April 20th.—The visit of the Emperor has been one continued ovation, and the success of it complete. None of the Sovereigns who have been here before have ever been received with such magnificence by the Court or by such curiosity and delight by the people. Wherever and whenever they have appeared, they have been greeted by enormous multitudes and prodigious acclamations. The Queen is exceedingly pleased with both of them; she thinks the Empress very natural, graceful, and attractive, and the Emperor frank, cordial, and true. He has done his best to please her, talked to her a great deal, amused her, and has completely succeeded. Everybody is struck with his mean and diminutive figure and vulgar appearance, but his manners are good and not undignified. He talked a very long time to Lord Derby on Tuesday at Windsor and to Lord Aberdeen on Wednesday. This last was very proper, because he had a great prejudice against Aberdeen, and fancied he was his enemy, which Aberdeen knew. When he was invested with the Garter, he took all sorts of oaths—old feudal oaths—of fidelity and knightly service to the Queen, and he then made her a short speech to the following effect:—'I have sworn to be faithful to Your Majesty and to serve you to the best of my ability, and my whole future life shall be spent in proving the sincerity with which I have thus sworn, and my resolution to devote myself to your service.' The fineness of the weather brought out the whole population of London, as usual kept in excellent order by a few policemen, and in perfect good humour. It was a beautiful sight last night when the Royal and Imperial party went to the Opera in state; the streets lit by gas and the houses illuminated and light as day, particularly opposite the Travellers' Club, where I was. I am glad the success of the visit has been so great, and the contentment of all the parties concerned so complete, but it is well that all will be over tomorrow, for such excitement and enthusiasm could not last much longer, and the inconvenience of being beset by crowds, and the streets obstructed, is getting tiresome.
I saw Cowley for a moment yesterday. He told me the Russians refused any conditions which imposed loss of territory or limitation of naval forces, and they declined to offer any counter project, though they are ready to discuss anything we propose. He therefore considers the continuance of the war unavoidable, and does not believe Austria will join in it, though Drouyn de Lhuys still writes his own expectation that she will. He said they had never said or done anything which bound them to join, and that their diplomacy had been much more adroit and successful than our's, but that this was principally the fault of the French, who never would consent to take a peremptory course so as to compel them to be explicit. The consequence of this is, that it will be impossible to produce the diplomatic correspondence, and its retention will put Parliament and the press in a fury, and expose the Government to attacks which they will find it very difficult to repel or to silence. They cannot give the reason why, and their enemies and detractors will believe, or at least insist, that they do not dare disclose their own share in the transaction. I asked Clarendon how it was that the French Government in their last paper in the 'Moniteur' said so positively that they had secured the cooperation of Austria if the last conditions were refused by Russia; he replied that he supposed they said so in order to make it the ground of an accusation against Austria when the Conference broke up and she refuses to declare war. Clarendon thinks we shall get the better of Russia, but that it will be by blockading her ports and ruining her commerce, and not by military operations, and that this may take two or three years or more, but is certain in the end.[1]
[1] [The failure or suspension of the negotiations for peace at Vienna was formally announced to Parliament on May 21, and the protocols of the Conference laid upon the table.]
May 24th.—The Sebastopol Committee is finished, and the result proves that it is a very good thing to have had it, for no ill consequences have come of it, and the evidence has benefited instead of injuring both the Government and those who were most bitterly abused, especially Hardinge and Newcastle, about the latter of whom there has been a considerable reaction of opinion. In Parliament nothing has taken place of much consequence. Ellenborough gave battle in the Lords and was signally defeated. Layard had announced a hostile motion in the House of Commons, which he has since given up to Disraeli, who brings forward a regular want of confidence motion tonight, which will decide the fate of the Government. Sir Francis Baring has moved an amendment which the Peelites will not vote for, because it pledges the House to support the war, they having now become furiously pacific; as if they were not unpopular enough already, they are now doing all they can to mar their own efficacy by giving their enemies a plausible case for attacking and abusing them, and by breasting the tide of warlike zeal and passion, which, though very absurd and very mischievous, is too strong and too general to be openly and directly resisted at present. It is quite fit and becoming to reason with it, and to endeavour to bring the public to a more reasonable frame of mind, but great tact, caution, and good management are required in doing this. It is very difficult to make out what Gladstone and his friends (for it would be ridiculous to call them a party) are at, and what they expect or desire in reference to their political future. Palmerston is said to have done better in the House of Commons lately than he did at first, but it is curious to see how completely his popularity has evaporated. All the foolish people whose pet he was, and who clamoured for him with the notion that he was to do every sort of impossible thing, now that they find he can do no more than other men, and that there never was any real difference between him and his colleagues, are furious with him because they so deceived themselves, and want to break the idol they set up.
May 30th.—The division last Friday night gave Government a larger majority than anybody expected,[1] and if it did not give them permanent strength it averted immediate danger. Gladstone made a fine speech, but gave great offence to all who are not for peace, and exposed himself to much unpopularity. The discussion is only suspended till Parliament meets again, when the amendments will be debated, and there will no more divisions; but in the meantime the news which has arrived of the successes in the Crimea, and the fair prospect there appears of still greater advantages, must serve to silence the advocates of peace and encourage those who are all for war, and to render a contest popular which is likely to be crowned with brilliant results, and, as many imagine, to give us the means of dictating peace on our own terms. I believe in the prospect of success, but not that it will reduce the Russians to make peace on our terms, particularly as the conditions will infallibly be harder than before. But I do marvel that they did not make peace at Vienna on the terms which were there offered them, when they must have known that all the chances of war were against them. The Emperor of Russia might have taken warning from the history and fate of Napoleon, who constantly refused the terms he could have obtained, and continually insisted on something more than his enemies would give him, and by this obstinacy lost his crown. The most interesting incident which occurred last week was the scene at the end of the debate between Graham and John Russell, who had a fight of considerable asperity; and according to all appearances the Peelites and the Whigs are completely two. When Graham was reconciled to Lord John two or three years ago, he vowed that nothing should separate them again, but 'quam parum stabiles sunt hominum amiciti?,' and now they appear to be as antagonistic as ever. But, to be sure, Graham could not contemplate or foresee all the tricks which Lord John played during the whole time he was a member of Aberdeen's Government.
Notwithstanding the success of Government in the House of Commons and of the armies in the Crimea, things are in a very unsatisfactory and uncomfortable state here, and nobody knows what will happen. There is no confidence in any party or any men, and everybody has a vague apprehension of coming but undefined evil and danger. The world seems out of joint.
[1] [Mr. Disraeli's Motion condemning the Government for their misconduct of the war was rejected by 319 to 219. Lord John Russell made a warlike speech in the course of this debate.]
Paris, June 17th.—Having resolved to go to Vichy for my health, here I am on the road; I crossed over yesterday morning, a very disagreeable but short passage from Folkestone, good journey by rail, and got here at nine o'clock, being lodged very hospitably at the Embassy. French carriages on the railway are much better than ours, particularly the second class; the country between Boulogne and Paris looks well and thriving. I had some talk with Cowley last night before we went to bed, when he gave me an account of the circumstances of Drouyn de Lhuys' resignation.[1] He also descanted on the difficulties of the Government here and of the maintenance of the alliance, which he attributes up to this time entirely to the good faith and fairness of the Emperor himself, and his determination that nothing shall interrupt the good understanding between the two countries, on which he is above all things bent. The Emperor says it is a great misfortune that there are no men of capacity or character whose services he can command, nor in fact any men, if he could command their services, in whom the public would be disposed to place confidence. Cowley had no very good opinion of Drouyn de Lhuys, and said no reliance could be placed in him; but in some respects he is a loss, because he has a certain capacity and clean hands, he is enormously rich, and guiltless of any peculation or jobbery. When Drouyn announced that he meant to go to Vienna, Lord Cowley urged him to go to England first and come to an understanding with the Cabinet there as to the terms which should be proposed at the Conference. He consented and went, and Cowley urged Clarendon to have the agreement put down in writing that there might be no mistake about it. This was done, and Drouyn went to Vienna. When he took upon himself to make the proposition he did, it was in direct opposition to his agreement with us, but he thought he should bring the Emperor to concur with him and to sanction it. The Emperor seemed at first disposed to do so, and when he saw Cowley intimated as much to him. Cowley submitted that it was quite contrary to the understanding with us, and objected on every ground to the proposal. The Emperor said he really got quite confused in the intricacies and details of this affair, but he would see Drouyn again and speak to him upon it. Cowley requested (a very strange request as he owned) that he might be present at the interview. The Emperor seemed somewhat surprised, but acquiesced. When Cowley came he found Drouyn had been there an hour, and that Marshal Vaillant was also present. They went over the ground again and Drouyn said what he had to say, when Cowley merely said he would not go into the general question and would only ask whether M. Drouyn's proposal was in conformity with what had been settled in London, and he appealed to Marshal Vaillant whether the termination of the war on such terms would be advisable. It was impossible to maintain that the terms were consistent with the joint agreement, and Vaillant declared that if the French army was brought away, and a peace made on conditions which would appear to tarnish the honour of their arms, he would not answer for the consequences. This put an end to the discussion. Drouyn de Lhuys retired, and as soon as he got home sent his resignation to the Emperor, who wrote him back a very goodhumoured answer advising him to recall it, and expressing a wish that he would come and talk the matter over with him, when he had no doubt they should come to a satisfactory understanding. Drouyn persisted, and then the Emperor accepted his resignation and sent for Walewski. I asked Cowley how Walewski was likely to do, and he said wretchedly, and that he was not of a calibre to fill such a post.
He told me all about the intended journey of the Emperor to the Crimea and why it was given up. The Emperor was bent on it, while all the Ministers deprecated it and did all they could to prevent it. They suggested that, if any misfortune occurred while he was there, he could not quit the army; if any success, he would infallibly stay to pursue it, so that his speedy return could not be counted on. This failed to move him. The intention was that J?rome should be, not Regent, but Chief of the Council of Ministers, and they advised J?rome only to consent to take this office on condition that he was invested with the same despotic power as the Emperor himself. This His Majesty would not consent to, as the Ministers foresaw, and this was the reason why the expedition was given up.
[1] [At the Conference at Vienna M. Drouyn de Lhuys departed from the conditions of peace agreed to between the French and British Governments, and was disposed to accept the more favourable terms which were supported by Austria. This led to his disavowal and resignation on his return to Paris. It turned out that Lord John Russell, the British envoy to the Conference, had taken a similar course.]
Paris, June 23rd.—I came here to pass through to Vichy, and accordingly on Tuesday last to Vichy I went. I arrived there in the evening, found a detestable apartment without a fireplace; the weather was intolerable, it never ceased raining, and the cold was intense. Finding that it was useless to take the waters or baths in such weather, and being disgusted with the whole thing, I resolved to return to Paris, which I did on Friday, and here I am comfortably established in the Embassy again.
On my arrival I was greeted with the painful intelligence of the repulse sustained by the French and English on the 18th in the attack on the Mamelon and Redan batteries, and of the great losses which both armies had suffered. This failure has cast a great gloom over Paris and London, and the disappointment is greater because we had become so accustomed to success that everybody regarded failure in anything as impossible. Cowley told me that the Emperor was excessively annoyed, and the more because they entirely disapprove of P?lissier's proceedings. Without tying him down or attempting from hence to direct the operations of the campaign, they had given P?lissier the strongest recommendations to abstain from assaults which they had reason to believe would not be decisive and would cost a vast number of lives, and they were very anxious the operations against the Russians in the field should be pressed instead. There had been some half angry communications between the Government and P?lissier, who had talked of resigning the command. The opinions of the Government had been principally formed from those of General Niel, who had constantly reported his conviction to the above mentioned effect, and had earnestly deprecated these assaults. Then there is reason to apprehend that such unsuccessful attempts may produce bad blood and mutual accusations between the allied forces. Already P?lissier and Raglan have begun to cast the blame of the failure on each other, though apparently the difference has not yet swelled to any serious amount. I have always thought that it would have been better to have no divided command, but to place an English corps under a French commander-in-chief, and a French squadron under an English admiral. This was what the Emperor proposed, and he wrote a letter himself on the subject, which Cowley promised to show me. We have had much conversation about the Emperor, his character and his capacity, and I am puzzled how to understand and to do justice to the latter. Being such as he is represented to be, and having the defects he has, it is difficult to comprehend his having accomplished the great things he has, and raised himself to such a situation and such a height of personal power.
June 24th.—Last night I went to Thiers', where I found Mignet, Roger du Nord, and others of his adherents, none of whom I recollected, nor they me. This morning I called on Achille Fould, who told me the Emperor knew I was here and would like me to be presented to him, and it was settled that this should be done. I am nothing loth, for I have a curiosity to see this remarkable man and to converse with him. Madame de Lieven told me this morning that not long before the Revolution of '48 J?rome Bonaparte had entreated her to exert her influence to get him made a peer.
June 26th.—Yesterday morning arrived an invitation to dine at the Tuileries the same evening. I went there, was ushered into a room with eight or ten men in it, none of whom I knew except Count Bacciochi, whom I had met at Fould's the day before—three in uniform, the rest in plain clothes. A man, whom I suppose to be the aide de camp de service, came forward to receive me and invited me to sit down. Presently the same or another man came and said 'Milord' (they all milorded me), 'vous vous mettrez ? table, s'il vous pla?t, ? c?t? de l'Empereur ? sa droite.' I was then taken into the next room, which adjoins the cabinet of the Emperor. In a few minutes His Majesty made his appearance; he immediately came up to me, bowed very civilly, and asked me the usual questions of when I came to Paris, etc. In a minute dinner was announced and we went in. As we walked in he said to me, 'L'Imp?ratrice sera bien f?ch?e de ne vous avoir pas vu.' At dinner, which did not last above twenty-five minutes, he talked (a sort of dropping conversation) on different subjects, and I found him so easy to get on with that I ventured to start topics myself. After dinner we returned to the room we had left, and after coffee, seeing me staring about at the portraits, he said all his family were there, and he told me who they all were and the history of these portraits, which, he said, had made the tour of the world.
After this he asked me to sit down, which I did at a round table by his side, and M. Visconti on the other side of me, and then we had a conversation which lasted at least an hour and a half on every imaginable subject. It was impossible not to be struck with his simplicity, his being so natural and totally without any air or assumption of greatness, though not undignified, but perfectly comme il faut, with excellent manners, and easy, pleasant, fluent conversation. I was struck with his air of truth and frankness, and though of course I could not expect in my position and at this first interview with him that he should be particularly expansive, yet he gave me the idea of being not only not reserved but as if, when intimate, he would have a great deal of abandon. It was difficult to bring away all the subjects he discussed, and I do not know that he said anything wonderfully striking, but he made a very favourable impression on me, and made me wish to know more of him, which I am never likely to do.
He talked of the war and its conduct, of the faults committed, and of the characters and talents of the generals engaged, comparing them, much to their disadvantage, with the generals of the Empire. I asked him which were the best, and he said all the African generals were much of the same calibre: Changarnier, Lamorici?re, St. Arnaud, Canrobert, P?lissier—very little difference between them. The war they waged in Africa was of a peculiar character, and did not render them more capable of conducting great strategical operations in Europe. He talked of Thiers and Odilon Barrot, and described scenes with the latter in Council when Barrot was his Minister; of the 'Times' and its influence; of Spain; in short, of a vast variety of subjects; of the Exhibition here, and with some appearance of disappointment that the people will not go to it. His simplicity and absence of all faste were remarkable; thus, I asked him what he thought of the Hango affair, when he said it was not so bad as had been reported. 'I have had an account of it from Admiral Penaud to-day; should you like to see it?' I said 'Yes,' when he got up, went into his cabinet, and came back with the letter in his hand; and a little while after, when we were talking of the siege of Sebastopol, he asked if I had ever seen a very good engineer's map of the whole thing; and when I said I had not, he said, 'Then I will show you one;' and he again went into his cabinet and brought it out. After this long palaver he took leave of me, shaking hands with much apparent cordiality.
June 27th.—Bosquet has written to the Emperor that these assaults on the Russian works are only a useless waste of time. Marshal Vaillant has told Cowley that they agree in this, but they must either recall their general or let him go on in his own way, and if they interfere, the blame of any disaster will inevitably fall on them, no matter what might be the cause. I dined with Flahaut yesterday; in the morning rode round all the boulevards, a grand promenade by which Paris is well seen; and I met Guizot at Madame de Lieven's, who talked of the war and asked how it was ever to end. 'People go to war,' he said, 'to make conquests or to make peace; you profess not to intend the first, how do you propose to effect the second? By reducing Russia to accept your terms—can you do so? will she yield? If not, what then?—you may wound her, but you can't strike her in a vital part; and the more barbarous she is, the more she will consent to suffer and the less she will be disposed to yield.' He gave me an account (in short) of the bother about the Academy and the Emperor's interference. They do not mean to give way, but they think he will; if he does not, he will have to dissolve them.
Paris, July 5th.—One of my attacks of gout came on this day week and disabled me from going anywhere, doing anything, and still more from writing anything. In the meanwhile we received the news of Lord Raglan's death.[1] Though they do not care about it here, there has been a very decent display of sympathy and regret, and the Emperor wrote to Cowley with his own hand a very proper letter. There is good reason to believe that the fatal termination of Lord Raglan's illness was in some (perhaps in great) measure produced by vexation and disappointment at the failure of the 18th, and annoyance at the many embarrassments of his position. It is certain that for a considerable time great disunion and poignant differences existed between him and the French generals. Canrobert wrote home a very unhandsome letter, in which he gave as one of his reasons for resigning the impossibility of going on with Raglan. I believe Raglan complained of Canrobert with much better reason. On the 18th P?lissier changed the plan of attack that had been agreed on between them; and, besides all the mistakes that occurred in the French operations, there seems to have been a want of continual and active concert between the two commanders-in-chief during the operations. Raglan proposed a general attack on the town when the assaults failed, which P?lissier refused to agree to. There is a fair probability this would have succeeded, as an English force did get into a part of the town, stayed there some time, and got away unobserved. There is now a bad feeling, a disposition to recrimination, between the two armies which may have very bad effects, and it is awful to think our army is under an untried man of whom nothing is known, and who is not likely to have more weight with, and receive more consideration from, the French generals than his predecessor. However desirable unity of command may be, in the present temper of the troops and after all that has occurred it would be impossible. General Torrens, who is here, speaks in high terms of Raglan, especially of his magnanimity in bearing all the blame which has been thrown upon him and never saying one word in his own vindication, which might have entirely exonerated him but have done some injury to the cause. Torrens thinks that in all or almost all in which he has appeared most obnoxious to censure he could have triumphantly excused himself, and have proved that the causes were attributable to others and not to himself. His must have been a painful as it was an ungrateful service, and it was a melancholy and untimely end.
[1] [Lord Raglan died in the Crimea on June 28.]
Paris, July 6th.—I went yesterday to the Exhibition in the morning; then to Notre Dame and the Luxembourg Gardens and drove about Paris; dined en trio with Madame de Lieven and Guizot, when there was of course nothing but political talk. Guizot thinks there has been not only a series of diplomatic blunders, but a wonderful want of invention, not to strike out some means of adjusting this quarrel, in which I agree with him. This morning Labouchere and I went to Versailles. Fould had given me a letter to the Director of the Museum there, M. Souli?, whom we found very intelligent, well informed, and obliging. We told him our object was to avoid the giro regolare of the endless rooms fitted up with bad pictures by Louis Philippe, and to see the apartments full of historical associations from the time of Louis XIV. down to the Revolution. We were completely gratified, and he took us over everything we wished to see, being admirably qualified as a cicerone by his familiarity with the localities and the history belonging to them. We saw all the apartments in which Louis XIV. lived, and what remains of those of Madame de Maintenon. The Palace has been so tumbled about at different times, and such alterations made in it, that it is not always easy to ascertain correctly where the rooms of certain personages were, but our guide proved to our complete satisfaction that certain rooms he showed us were those which really did belong to Madame de Maintenon. We saw too in minute detail the apartments of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, and the passages through which she fled to escape from the irruption of the mob on the 5th of October. The whole thing was as interesting as possible.
Paris, July 9th.—I meant to have left Paris last night, but, an invitation arriving to dine with the Emperor at St. Cloud today, I put off going till tomorrow. I went yesterday to Versailles to see the grandes eaux and was disappointed, and dined there with the Ashburtons. This morning telegraphic news came of a Russian sortie last night; no details of course. Yesterday we were thrown into consternation by the intelligence from London of the revelations of John Russell in the House of Commons and the discussion thereupon. Le Marchant wrote to Labouchere and told him the effect was as bad as possible, and the whole case very deplorable. My own opinion is that nobody could have acted more indiscreetly and unjustifiably than John Russell has done, and he has sacrificed his character and authority in a way which he will find it difficult to get over. But I am disposed to agree with him that the terms proposed by Austria, if they could have been brought to maturity and carried out, were quite sufficient to make peace upon, and that the negotiations ought to have continued in order to endeavour to bring about this result. The effect of this public announcement to the whole world, that the English Minister at the Congress as well as the French one was willing to accept the terms proposed by Austria, will not fail to make a great sensation, and produce a considerable effect both in Germany and in France. In England it is doubtful whether it will have any other result than to damage John Russell himself, and increase the vulgar prejudice against public men. My own idea is that it will render the war still more unpopular in France, and the English alliance likewise, because it will encourage the prevailing notion that the war is carried on for English interests and in deference to the wishes of England. Though John Russell declared that the resolution of the Emperor to part with Drouyn de Lhuys and reject the Austrian proposal had been made before the intention of the English Cabinet was known, this will not be believed, or at all events everybody will be convinced that he knew what the sentiments of England were, and that he really acted in conformity with them, as was beyond all doubt the case.
July 10th.—I dined at Villeneuve l'?tang. We went to the Palace of St. Cloud in Cowley's carriage, where we found an equerry and one of the Emperor's carriages, which took us to Villeneuve. A small house, pretty and comfortable enough, and a small party, all English—Duke and Duchess of Hamilton, Lord Hertford, Lord and Lady Ashburton, General Torrens and his aide de camp, Cowley and myself, the Duc de Bassano, Comte de Montebello, the aide de camp de service, and M. Valabr?gue, ?cuyer, that was the whole party. The Emperor sat between the two ladies, taking the Duchess in to dinner. It lasted about three quarters of an hour, and as soon as it was over His Majesty took us all out to walk about the place, see the dairy and a beautiful Bretonne cow he ordered to be brought out, and then to scull on the lake, or ?tang, which gives its name to the place. There were a number of little boats for one person to scull and one to sit, and one larger for two each; the Emperor got into one with the Duchess, and all the rest of the people as they liked, and we passed about half an hour on the water. On landing, ices, etc., were brought, and the carriages came to the door at nine o'clock, a char ? banc with four percherons and postillions exactly like the old French postboy, and several other open carriages and pair. The two ladies got into the centre of the char ? banc, Cowley, Hertford, and I were invited to get up before, and the Emperor himself got up behind with somebody else, I did not see who. We then set off and drove for some time through the woods and drives of Villeneuve and St. Cloud, and at last, at about ten o'clock, we were set down at the Palace. There we all alighted, and, after walking about a little, the Emperor showing us the part which Marie Antoinette had built and telling some anecdotes connected with Louis XVIII. and Louis Philippe, and the Ch?teau, he shook hands with all of us very cordially and dismissed us. His Majesty got into the char ? banc and returned to Villeneuve, and we drove back to Paris. When we were walking about the court of the Ch?teau (it was quite dark) the sentinel challenged us—'Qui va l??' when the Emperor called out in a loud voice, 'L'Empereur.'
Of course, in this company there was nothing but general conversation, and I had no opportunity of having any with His Majesty; but he was extremely civil, offering me his cigars, which I declined, and expressing anxiety that I should not catch cold. He made the same impression on me as before as to his extreme simplicity and the easiness of his intercourse; but I was struck with his appearance being so very mesquin, more than I thought at first.
Lady Ashburton told me she had received a letter from Ellice, telling her that the affair in the House of Commons had produced the most serious effect, and that it would probably end in the retirement of John Russell, and eventually to a change of Government. He had got a story, which I utterly disbelieve, that Milner Gibson had been instigated by John Russell himself to give him this opportunity of saying what he did, which was certainly more than he need have said.[1] Lord John seems for some time past to have been bereft of his senses, and to commit nothing but blunders one after another. What has been passing in his mind, and what his real objects are or have been, it would puzzle anybody to say. If he had personal views and wanted to regain the station and power which he had lost, never did any man take such false steps and pursue so erroneous a course to obtain his ends. He had in some measure retrieved the character and consideration which he forfeited by his conduct at the beginning of this year; but I do not see how he is ever to get over this, nor how his followers can any longer have any confidence in him, and I do not believe the country at large ever will. As to his opinion on the terms of peace, I agree with it, and think it would have been wiser to close with Buol's proposal, and to continue to negotiate; but this makes no difference as to his conduct in the affair, for which there is no excuse. He never ought to have committed himself at Vienna; his instructions were clear and precise and quite inconsistent with Buol's proposition. He might have engaged to bring it before his Government, but should, especially as he was a Cabinet Minister, have abstained from expressing any opinion of his own upon it. He appears at Vienna to have been easily talked over, and to have been exceedingly wanting in diplomatic finesse and penetration; but all I have picked up here in conversation proves to me that there have been errors innumerable and the greatest mistakes in the conduct of these affairs throughout, and the exigencies of the alliance and the necessity of concerting everything to the most minute particular with both Cabinets have produced results not less unfortunate in diplomacy than in war. The affair before Sebastopol the night before last turns out to have been of no importance, only a demonstration against the English lines.