CHAPTER XIII.
A.D. 1852.
The year opened with considerable uneasiness regarding the probability of a French invasion; and the queen drew the attention of parliament to the necessity of increasing the number of soldiers. Without explaining the plan of the "militia bill," which was brought up for consideration, it is only necessary to say that the alterations made in it by the members of the house excited the indignation of Lord John Russell to such a degree that he sent his resignation to her majesty. Lord Derby took his place as minister, and Mr. Disraeli became Chancellor of the Exchequer and leader of the House of Commons. The scheme for providing forces to defend the country was soon completed; and Mr. Disraeli occasioned no little surprise by the talent he showed for figures, in addition to his other gifts.
The new administration was called the "Who? Who? Ministry," and this is how it came by such a queer name. The Duke of Wellington was somewhat deaf, and, like many people so afflicted, spoke in a very loud tone. He was so anxious to hear the names of those who were to form the new cabinet that he stopped Lord Derby in the House of Lords, and asked to what person each office was to be assigned. As the prime minister mentioned the names, the aged duke eagerly asked, "Who? Who?" and the more unfamiliar the names the louder they had to be repeated, and the oftener and more audible became the "Who? Who?" until the conversation was heard by all the members. The story got abroad, and the familiar name of the "Who? Who?" government was given to Lord Derby's administration.
The well-known gray head disappeared soon after; for the old duke died on the fourteenth of September, at Walmer Castle, in his eighty-fourth year. Never did any other man occupy such a position in England as the Duke of Wellington. The whole nation loved him and had the utmost confidence in him; and to the queen he was a loyal subject and an affectionate friend. Strong men shed tears when they announced his death, for he had held a warm place in the hearts of his countrymen. "He was the pride and good genius, as it were, of this country,"—wrote the queen,—"the most loyal and devoted subject, and the staunchest supporter the crown ever had. He was to us a true friend and most valuable adviser."
This is the order which Lord Derby issued to the army, by her majesty's command:—
"The discipline which he exacted from others, as the main foundation of the military character, he sternly imposed upon himself; and the queen desires to impress upon the army that the greatest commander whom England ever saw has left an example for the imitation of every soldier, in taking as his guiding principle, in every relation of life, an energetic and unhesitating obedience to the call of duty."
In Southey's "Peninsular War," this sentence referring to the great duke occurs: "His campaigns were sanctified by the cause; they were sullied by no cruelties, no crimes; the chariot wheels of his triumphs have been followed by no curses; his laurels are entwined with the amaranths of righteousness, and upon his deathbed he might remember his victories among his great works." The funeral was grand and imposing, and beneath the dome of the Metropolitan Cathedral the remains of England's greatest military hero were laid beside those of Nelson, her greatest naval hero. "We have buried in our greatest general," said Lord Derby, in the House of Lords next day, "the man among us who had the greatest horror of war."