In the case of the engine-drivers' strike, the dispute ended by the directors conceding most of the points in dispute, and the grave public inconvenience that had been feared was happily avoided. Another strike, however, took place in the same month of March, which, though it was not immediately successful, was the beginning of a movement that within a few years acquired national importance. This was a strike of agricultural labourers in Buckinghamshire, rising in revolt against the system that allowed a family to starve on nine shillings a week. It was not, however, till some years later that the agricultural labourers became organised and succeeded in obtaining their rights.
This year was memorable for various distressing accidents, some of them destructive only of property, others grievously destructive of life. Her Majesty's Theatre in London was burnt down; and not only was the building itself, the scene of many operatic triumphs during seventy-five years, destroyed, but the music library with all its priceless manuscripts of Handel, Rossini, and the rest, perished. But more lamentable than this was the memorable ice accident in the Regent's Park, London, on the 15th of January. There was a severe frost, and the ice on the Ornamental Water was crowded with skaters. Suddenly it began to part away from the bank, and for a moment the skaters found themselves supported by a floating sheet of ice. Almost instantly this broke up and two hundred persons were in the water. It need only be added that, in spite of all the efforts of the bystanders and of the Humane Society's men, more than forty persons were drowned. The depth of the water was afterwards reduced in accordance with the recommendation of the coroner's jury. Before the year ended, other accidents as startling, though happily not so widely destructive of life, took place. An explosion of gunpowder at the Faversham Powder Mills, in the month of December, blew eleven men into the air; a still more frightful explosion of nitro-glycerine, at Newcastle, killed five men, and showed that the destructive power of modern chemical invention is liable to nullify all measures of safety that can be taken to counteract it; and a fire that took place in March at Accrington, by which nine children were burnt alive in their schoolroom, added an unprecedented element of horror to the catalogue of accidents.
There was, however, as if to compensate for these darker facts, an unusual amount of gaiety imported into England during the summer months by the arrival of certain distinguished foreign visitors. The Belgian volunteers came over, more than a thousand strong, and were entertained in a very fraternal manner by their English brethren. The Viceroy of Egypt came, and was fêted by the richer classes of England with considerable expenditure and effect. But his star paled before the greater glories of a visitor who arrived when the Viceroy had been a few days in London—no less a person than the Commander of the Faithful himself. Britain is so much an Asiatic power, and has under her sway so many millions of Mohammedans, that it was excusable for her to make the most of her opportunity of welcoming the Sultan of Turkey, the recognised head of all those who profess the orthodox Mussulman faith. All questions as to the real character of the man and of his government were lost sight of by the London public in the contemplation of his retinue, his jewels, his swarthy complexion, and the white Arab that he rode. He was bandied about from dinner to opera, from opera to ball; the days were filled with reviews, and processions, and fêtes. The Lord Mayor gave him a ball at the Guildhall; the Secretary for India spent £10,000 out of the revenues of India upon a single evening's entertainment at the India Office. But the noblest and most creditable display attempted in his honour was the naval review at Spithead. Fifteen ironclads and sixteen unarmoured ships, with sixteen gunboats, formed a mighty avenue, through which the royal yacht, bearing her Majesty and the Sultan, the Prince of Wales, and other great personages, passed, amid deafening salutes. Only one thing was wanting to complete the Sultan's full enjoyment of the scene. A strong north-easter was blowing all the time, and, by common consent of the staff of his Majesty, the spectacle of the naval review proved rather impressive than pleasant. The Sultan left England on the 23rd of July, after a visit of twelve days.
The year 1867 was a time of profound peace in Europe, except so far as it was disturbed by revolutionary movements which had for their object the overthrow of the Papal Government, and which collapsed with the defeat of Garibaldi at Mentana. Besides the consummation of the failure of his costly experiment in Mexico, a new mortification befell the Emperor of the French this year in connection with the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg. Yet he continued to put the best face upon everything, to claim increasing influence for Napoleonic ideas, and to credit his foreign policy with success in all directions. Justly indeed might he declare—in the speech delivered at the opening of the Chambers on February 14th—that "the voice of France had influence enough to arrest the conqueror at the gates of Vienna." But when, in the "Livre Jaune" (the "Yellow Book," containing the usual annual exposition of the views of the French Government on foreign policy), the recall of the French troops from Mexico was said to have been "resolved upon in the full plenitude of our liberty of action,"—when it was intimated that "anything having the character of external pressure could only have placed us in the position, despite ourselves, of having to prolong a state of things which we should wish to abridge,"—when he said that "the Government of the United States understood that want of conciliation would only have prolonged the occupation [of Mexico], and embittered relations which, for the welfare of both countries, should remain friendly,"—these brave words could not hide from the keen-witted politicians of France the real nature of the pusillanimous surrender they were intended to disguise. Still less could the truth be hidden when the unfortunate Maximilian, dissuaded by his followers from abdication, was taken prisoner and ignominiously shot (June 19, 1867). Many keen observers prophesied that the Second Empire was nearing its end.
SKATING DISASTER IN REGENT'S PARK, LONDON. (See p. [459].)
The Emperor formally opened the Paris International Exhibition on the 1st of April. Two days before, a question had been discussed in the North German Parliament which might easily have rekindled another war in Europe. The discussion bore on the negotiations, then first divulged, that had been proceeding for some time between the Emperor Napoleon and the King of Holland for the cession of the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg to France. The King of Holland, as ruler of Limburg and Luxemburg, had voted on the side of Prussia in the memorable division of the 14th of June, 1866; Count Bismarck had therefore no excuse for seizing Luxemburg as he did Hanover and Hesse-Cassel. When the war was over, and the organisation of the new North German Bund was being gone on with, the King of Holland expressed his desire that neither Limburg nor Luxemburg should be included in the new Bund. To this Prussia acceded, yet retained her garrison in Luxemburg. Such a possession as the Grand Duchy, separated by Belgian territory from his Dutch dominions, and interposed between two powerful States the relations between which were continually becoming more perilous and inflammable, was productive of more anxiety than profit to the King of Holland; and could he have quietly ceded it to France, for a consideration, nothing would have pleased him better. It came to this, that the King of Holland declared himself ready to sell Luxemburg to France, if the consent both of the population and of Prussia could be first obtained. But it was quite another thing to gain the consent of Prussia. The King of Holland had no sooner given to the Prussian Government an intimation of the contemplated cession, than the matter was debated in the North German Parliament, and warmly, not to say angrily, canvassed in newspapers, in streets, and in houses, through the length and breadth of Germany. It was an intolerable thought to men who had just won so large a measure of national unity, and were full of pride and exultation in the retrospect, that an old German land, which had formerly given a line of emperors to Germany, should pass under the power of France. The negotiation respecting Luxemburg, had it now been transferred from the Hague to Berlin, must, considering the excitement of German feeling, have become acrimonious, and would probably have ended in war. For this the Emperor, who was engaged in plans for the re-organisation of the French army, and the introduction of a new weapon, was not as yet prepared; he therefore abandoned the notion of purchasing Luxemburg, forbore to open direct negotiations with Berlin, and called in the assistance of the neutral Powers. It was arranged on the initiative of the Russian Government that the King of Holland, in his capacity of Grand Duke, should be invited by Britain, Prussia, Austria, Italy, and Belgium, to propose a Conference, to be held in London, for the settlement of the Luxemburg question. The King of Holland did so. Representatives of France and Prussia also, as well as the Powers above mentioned, were sent to the Conference, which held its first meeting in London on the 7th of May, 1867. The nature of the work to be done was pretty generally understood before the Conference met, and its deliberations were soon over. On the 18th of May a treaty was signed, by which it was stipulated that Luxemburg should remain, as before, under the rule of the House of Orange-Nassau, without any political connection with Holland, but that it should be for the future a neutral State, its neutrality being guaranteed by the Powers that were signatories to the treaty, with the exception of Belgium, itself a neutral kingdom. In accordance with its acquired character of neutrality, the capital of the Grand Duchy was to cease to be a fortified town; its fortifications were to be razed within a specified time; and the Prussian troops were to be withdrawn after the ratifications of the treaty had been exchanged. In this way the question was equitably and honourably settled without war, thanks to the diplomacy of Lord Stanley, who had actively promoted the project of a Conference. Earlier in the year he had written to Lord Malmesbury that unless the Prussian garrison was withdrawn from Luxemburg "Napoleon must fight."
Elsewhere Englishmen observed with satisfaction the healing of old sores. Austria, with her armies shattered and her prestige departed, burdened with debt, and distracted by the demands of a dozen different nationalities, displayed in this year that wonderful tenacity of life which she has before exhibited on many a historic emergency. In Count Beust, the late Saxon Minister, the Emperor found a statesman of great capacity, astuteness, and perseverance, whom he appointed to the post of Foreign Minister at the end of October, 1866. At that time dismemberment was openly talked of; for the difficulties of the monarchy were so great that no one could see his way out of them. The other chief Ministers were Prince Esterhazy and Count Belcredi, the authors of what was called the policy of "inhibition," under which, until a common and equal representation of the whole monarchy could be devised, the Constitution of February, 1861, giving a Parliament or Reichsrath to Western Austria, was suspended; the central power governed absolutely; and parliamentary life throughout the empire was confined within the walls of the provincial Diets. Hungary still held aloof from the rest of the empire, like a half severed limb, having its own Parliament for local affairs, but unrepresented in the imperial councils, and sullenly obeying the administrative and executive dispositions of the central power. Count Beust placed two leading political aims before him—to effect a compromise with Hungary, and to revive constitutional and parliamentary life in Western Austria. To bring about the first, it was necessary to come to an understanding with M. Déak and the party which he represented, since he, above all other living men, possessed the confidence of the Hungarians. Now M. Déak was firmly convinced that a system of complete dualism between Austria and Hungary would alone meet the exigencies of the case—a system under which, certain common affairs being reserved and separately provided for, all Hungarian affairs should be managed by a separate Administration, appointed indeed by the Emperor, but responsible to the Hungarian Parliament. At the opening of this Parliament, on the 19th of November, 1866, an imperial rescript was read, holding out hopes of a responsible Ministry for Hungary, and of concessions to the views of M. Déak. The plans of Belcredi, who desired to convoke an "Extraordinary Reichsrath," representing all the other nationalities along with Austria, but excluding Hungary, were swept away; and he himself was compelled to resign soon afterwards. Count Beust was then made Prime Minister. A deputation from the Hungarian Diet, headed by Count Andrassy, arrived in Vienna about the end of January, and proceeded to negotiate with Count Beust and the other Austrian Ministers respecting the terms of the compromise. Early in February, 1867, the Emperor appointed Count Andrassy his Minister President for Hungary, and entrusted him with the formation of a Hungarian Ministry. At last, on the 17th of February, appeared the imperial and royal rescript, restoring to Hungary her full parliamentary rights as they had existed before 1848. The terms of the compromise between Austria and Hungary were settled in the following manner:—"Common affairs" were defined to include the foreign policy of the empire, with its diplomatic representation abroad, and a joint army under the command of the Emperor. Both parts of the Empire were to contribute proportionately to the cost of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and of the army; and this proportion was afterwards fixed, somewhat unjustly, at 70 per cent, for Austria and 30 per cent, for Hungary. Hungary was likewise to contribute to the payment of the interest of the State debt. All international treaties were to receive the sanction of both Legislatures. All other affairs requiring a joint consideration, such as the Customs duties, indirect taxes, and the currency, were to be regulated by treaties, subject to the approval of both moieties of the realm. On the 8th of June a memorable pageant graced the streets, the noble river, and the ancient cathedral of the double capital of Hungary. On that day the Emperor Francis Joseph, who had never yet received the crown of St. Stephen, was solemnly crowned King of Hungary in the cathedral of Buda, amidst the joyful acclamations of a reconciled people.
So passed an uneventful recess. The necessity for sending an armed force to Abyssinia, in order to compel the Sovereign of that country to release a number of British subjects, made it advisable for the Government of Lord Derby to convene Parliament for a short winter Session, in order that the exact state of the question might be explained to both Houses, their approval of the expedition secured, and the grant of the necessary advances obtained from the House of Commons. Parliament accordingly was summoned to meet on the 19th of November for the despatch of business, and was opened by commission. With regard to the legislative labours of the Session, Reform Bills for Scotland and Ireland were promised, which should assimilate the franchises of those countries to those recently established in England, and also measures on public schools and elementary education. On the motion of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, £2,000,000 were voted for the Abyssinian expedition, the total cost of which, unless the Emperor Theodore should succumb, and give up his prisoners without fighting, was estimated by Government at about £3,500,000. To meet this expenditure, the House of Commons voted the addition of a penny to the income tax, and sanctioned the payment of the Indian troops engaged out of Indian revenues. Objections were raised to the expedition from various quarters, but they were sustained with little earnestness. In the Commons it was said that the Ministers had involved the country in war without keeping Parliament duly informed of the progress of the difficulty in its earlier stages; in the Upper House, a noble lord predicted failure, and said that for the army to keep up its communications with the sea after having penetrated into the highlands of Abyssinia would be found impossible. However, the general feeling, both in Parliament and in the country, went along with Government in thinking that all peaceful modes of settlement had been exhausted, and that there remained only the alternative of an appeal to arms.