THE INVITATION TO WINDSOR.
It seems that there was some misunderstanding as to the invitation given by the Prince to the Emperor at Boulogne, and the latter gives a very different account of what passed from that given by the Prince. The Emperor says that when he took leave of the Prince, he said, 'I have not been able to give you such a reception as I could have wished, but you see I am only occupying an hotel; if you will come to Paris, where I should be delighted to receive the Queen, I could give her and yourself a more fitting reception;' and then, he says, the Prince invited him to Windsor, which he only seems to have taken as a civility unavoidable under the circumstances. It is impossible to say which account is the true one, but I rather believe that of the Emperor to be correct. Clarendon wrote this to the Queen, whose answer I saw; she said the intention was to make the invitation something between a cordial invitation and a mere civility, which the Emperor might avail himself of or not, according to his convenience. However, Her Majesty says she thinks the matter stands very well as it is, and she desires it may be notified to the Emperor that the most convenient time for his visit, if he comes, will be the middle of November.
The Duke of Cambridge and Prince Napoleon have both been strongly opposed to the Crimean expedition; the latter, they say, does nothing but cry, and is probably a poor creature and a poltroon. I am surprised the Duke should be so backward; however, I hope to hear he has done his duty in the field. The clamour against Dundas in the fleet is prodigious, and the desire for his recall universal, but he will stay out his time now, which will be up in December. It is the same thing against Napier in the Baltic; he will come away as soon as the ice sets in, and next year Lyons will be sent in his place, as the war will then be principally carried on in the north.
I think a storm will before long threaten the Government from the quarter of John Russell, who has been for some time at Minto. He wrote to Clarendon the other day, and alluded to the necessity of having an autumn session, to which Clarendon replied that he was not so fond of Parliament as Lord John was, and deprecated very much any such measure. To this Lord John sent as odious and cantankerous an answer as I ever read, and one singularly illustrative of his character. He said that he was not fonder of Parliament than other people, and his own position in the House of Commons had not been such as to make him the more so, and that it had been rendered more disagreeable by the fact of the two morning papers which professed to support the Government being always personally hostile to him; but, he went on, if we were fortunate enough to obtain a complete success in the Crimea, he did not see why he should not be at liberty to retire from this, which he thought the very worst government he had ever known. Of course, if there was any failure, he must remain to bear his share of the responsibility of it. Clarendon was immensely disgusted, but wrote back a very temperate answer. He said that it was equally difficult to go on with him and without him, for the Whigs, though often very angry with him, would follow him and would not follow anybody else. He thinks, however, that he is in a state of mind to create all sorts of embarrassments, and particularly that he will propose to bring forward his Reform Bill again, the consequences of which nobody can foresee. He says Palmerston has behaved much better, for though he might complain, having been disappointed in certain objects he had (such as being War Minister), he has made no difficulties, and been very friendly. Clarendon confirmed what I had heard, that Aberdeen is in a state of great dejection and annoyance at the constant and virulent attacks on him in the press; his mind is dejected by the illness of his son, whom he never expects to see again, and this renders him sensitive and fretful, and he is weak enough to read all that is written against him instead of treating it with indifference and avoiding to look at the papers whose columns are day after day full of outrageous and random abuse.
October 8th.—The whole of last week the newspapers without exception (but the 'Morning Chronicle' particularly), with the 'Times' at their head, proclaimed the fall of Sebastopol in flaming and triumphant articles and with colossal type, together with divers victories and all sorts of details, all which were trumpeted over the town and circulated through the country. I never believed one word of it, and entreated Delane to be less positive and more cautious, but he would not hear of it, and the whole world swallowed the news and believed it. Very soon came the truth, and it was shown that the reports were all false. Anybody who was not run away with by an exaggerated enthusiasm might have seen the probability that reports resting on no good authority would probably turn out untrue, but the press took them all for gospel, and every fool follows the press. When the bubble burst, the rage and fury of the deluded and deluding journals knew no bounds, and the 'Times' was especially sulky and spiteful. In consequence of a trifling error in a telegraphic despatch they fell on the Foreign Office and its clerks with the coarsest abuse, much to the disgust of Clarendon.
October 20th.—At Newmarket all last week; very successful on paper, but won very little money. I am every day more confirmed in my resolution to get rid of my racehorses, but shall do it gradually and as opportunities occur, and then confine myself to breeding. The two objects I now have in view are this, and to get out of my office. I want to be independent, and be able to go where and do what I like for the short remainder of my life. I am aware that 'man never is, but always to be blest,' and therefore when I have shaken off racing and office I may possibly regret both; but my mind is bent on the experiment, and I fancy I can amuse myself with locomotion, fresh scenes, and dabbling in literature selon mes petits moyens. Of politics I am heartily sick, and can take but little interest in either governments or the individuals who compose them; with the exception of Clarendon I am on intimate and confidential terms with no one.
BATTLE OF THE ALMA.
Ever since the news came of the battle of the Alma, the country has been in a fever of excitement, and the newspapers have teemed with letters and descriptions of the events that occurred. Raglan has gained great credit, and his march on Balaklava is considered a very able and judicious operation. Although they do not utter a word of complaint, and are by way of being fully satisfied with our allies the French, the truth is that the English think they did very little for the success of the day, and Burghersh told some one that their not pressing on was the cause (and not the want of cavalry) why the Russian guns were not taken. The French, nevertheless, have been well disposed to take the credit of the victory to themselves.
Burghersh tells two characteristic anecdotes of Raglan. He was extremely put out at the acclamations of the soldiers when he appeared amongst them after the battle, and said to his staff as he rode along the line, in a melancholy tone, 'I was sure this would happen.' He is a very modest man, and it is not in his nature any more than it was in that of the Duke of Wellington to make himself popular with the soldiers in the way Napoleon used to do, and who was consequently adored by them. The other story is that there were two French officers attached to headquarters, very good fellows, and that the staff were constantly embarrassed by the inveterate habit Raglan had of calling the enemy 'the French.' He could not forget his old Peninsular habits.