November 16th.—I went yesterday to the lying in state of the Duke of Wellington; it was fine and well done, but too gaudy and theatrical, though this is unavoidable. Afterwards to St. Paul's to see it lit up. The effect was very good, but it was like a great rout; all London was there strolling and staring about in the midst of a thousand workmen going on with their business all the same, and all the fine ladies scrambling over vast masses of timber, or ducking to avoid the great beams that were constantly sweeping along. These public funerals are very disgusting me? sententi?. On Saturday several people were killed and wounded at Chelsea; yesterday everything was orderly and well conducted, and I heard of no accidents.
Charles Villiers' motion, after much consultation and debate, whether it should be brought on or not, is settled in the affirmative, and was concocted by the Peelites at a meeting at Aberdeen's, Graham present. Nothing could be more moderate, so moderate that it appeared next to impossible the Government could oppose it. Yesterday morning there was a Ministerialist meeting in Downing Street, when Derby harangued his followers.
November 21st.—I saw the Duke's funeral from Devonshire House. Rather a fine sight, and all well done, except the car, which was tawdry, cumbrous, and vulgar. It was contrived by a German artist attached to the School of Design, and under Prince Albert's direction—no proof of his good taste. The whole ceremony within St. Paul's and without went off admirably, and without mistakes, mishaps, or accidents; but as all the newspapers overflow with the details I may very well omit them here.
Now that this great ceremony is over, we have leisure to turn our thoughts to political matters. I have already said that Villiers proposed a mild resolution which was drawn up by Graham at Aberdeen's house, and agreed to by the Peelites.[1] Then came Derby's meeting, where he informed his followers that he must reserve to himself entire liberty of dealing with Villiers' resolution as he thought best, but if he contested it, and was beaten, he should not resign. He then requested that if anyone had any objection to make, or remarks to offer, on his proposed course, they would make them then and there, and not find fault afterwards. They all cheered, and nobody said a word; in fact they were all consenting to his abandonment of Protection, many not at all liking it, but none recalcitrant. After this meeting there was a reconsideration of Villiers' resolution. Cobden and his friends complained that it was too milk and water, and required that it should be made stronger. After much discussion Villiers consented to alter it, and it was eventually put on the table of the House in its present more stringent form. Lord John Russell was against the alteration, and Gladstone and the Peelites still more so; but Charles Villiers thought he could not do otherwise than defer to Cobden, after having prevailed on the latter to consent to no amendment being moved on the Address. There is good reason to believe that the Government would have swallowed the first resolution, but they could not make up their minds to take the second; and accordingly Disraeli announced an amendment in the shape of another resolution, and the battle will be fought on the two, Dizzy's just as strongly affirming the principle of Free Trade as the other, but it omits the declaration that the measure of '46 was 'wise and just.' At this moment nobody has the least idea what the division will be, nor how many of the most conspicuous men will vote, nor what the Government will do if they are beaten. Moderate men on the Liberal side regret that the original resolution was changed, deprecate the pitched battle, and above all dread that the Government may resign if they are beaten, which would cause the greatest confusion, nothing being ready for forming a government on the Liberal side, and the Government would go out with the advantage of saying that they were prepared with all sorts of good measures which the factious conduct of their opponents would not let them produce. Things have not been well managed, and I expect the result of all these proceedings will be damaging to the Liberal interest, and rather advantageous to Lord Derby.
DISRAELI'S ORATION ON WELLINGTON.
An incident occurred the other night in the House of Commons, which exposed Disraeli to much ridicule and severe criticism. He pronounced a pompous funeral oration on the Duke of Wellington, and the next day the 'Globe' showed that half of it was taken word for word from a panegyric of Thiers on Marshal Gouvion de St. Cyr. Disraeli has been unmercifully pelted ever since, and well deserves it for such a piece of folly and bad taste. His excuse is, that he was struck by the passage, wrote it down, and, when he referred to it recently, forgot what it was, and thought it was his own composition. But this poor apology does not save him. Derby spoke very well on the same subject a few nights after in the House of Lords, complimenting the authorities, the people, and foreign nations, particularly France. It is creditable to Louis Napoleon to have ordered Walewski to attend the funeral.[2]
DEATH OF MISS BERRY.
On Saturday night, about twelve o'clock, Miss Mary Berry died after a few weeks' illness, without suffering, and in possession of her faculties, the machine worn out, for she was in her 90th year.[3] As she was born nearly a century ago, and was the contemporary of my grandfathers and grandmothers, she was already a very old woman when I first became acquainted with her, and it was not till a later period, about twenty years ago, that I began to live in an intimacy with her which continued uninterrupted to the last. My knowledge of her early life is necessarily only traditional. She must have been exceedingly goodlooking, for I can remember her with a fine commanding figure and a very handsome face, full of expression and intelligence. It is well known that she was the object of Horace Walpole's octogenarian attachment, and it has been generally believed that he was anxious to marry her for the sake of bestowing upon her a title and a jointure, which advantages her disinterested and independent spirit would not allow her to accept. She continued nevertheless to make the charm and consolation of his latter days, and at his death she became his literary executrix, in which capacity she edited Madame du Deffand's letters. She always preserved a great veneration for the memory of Lord Orford, and has often talked to me about him. I gathered from what she said that she never was herself quite sure whether he wished to marry her, but inclined to believe that she might have been his wife had she chosen it. She seems to have been very early initiated into the best and most refined society, was a constant inmate of Devonshire House and an intimate friend of the Duchess, a friendship which descended to her children, all of whom treated Miss Berry to the last with unceasing marks of attention, respect, and affection. She had been very carefully educated, and was full of literary tastes and general information, so that her conversation was always spirited, agreeable, and instructive; her published works, without exhibiting a high order of genius, have considerable merit, and her 'Social Life in England and France' and 'The Life of Rachel, Lady Russell,' will always be read with pleasure, and are entitled to a permanent place in English literature; but her greatest merit was her amiable and benevolent disposition, which secured to her a very large circle of attached friends, who were drawn to her as much by affectionate regard as by the attraction of her vigorous understanding and the vivacity and variety of her conversational powers. For a great many years the Misses Berry were amongst the social celebrities of London, and their house was the continual resort of the most distinguished people of both sexes in politics, literature, and fashion. She ranked amongst her friends and associates all the most remarkable literary men of the day, and there certainly was no house at which so many persons of such various qualities and attainments, but all more or less distinguished, could be found assembled. She continued her usual course of life, and to gather her friends about her, till within a few weeks of her death, and at last she sank by gradual exhaustion, without pain or suffering, and with the happy consciousness of the affectionate solicitude and care of the friends who had cheered and comforted the last declining years of her existence. To those friends her loss is irreparable, and besides the private and individual bereavement it is impossible not to be affected by the melancholy consideration that her death has deprived the world of the sole survivor of a once brilliant generation, who in her person was a link between the present age and one fertile in great intellectual powers, to which our memories turn with never failing curiosity and interest.
[1] [On November 23, Mr. Charles Villiers moved Resolutions in the House of Commons, declaring the adherence of Parliament to the principles of Free Trade and approving the Repeal of the Corn Laws. Mr. Disraeli moved an amendment, not directly adverse. But this amendment was withdrawn in favour of one more skilfully drawn by Lord Palmerston. On this occasion Lord Palmerston rendered an essential service to Lord Derby's Government.]