Junius Brutus Booth, the great English tragedian, died in America while returning from a lucrative tour to California. Booth made his début at Covent Junius Brutus Booth Garden Theatre in London in 1814 as Richard III. His personal resemblance to the hunchbacked tyrant conformed so well to the traditions of the stage, and his personification of the character was in other respects so striking, that he eclipsed Edmund Keane, then acting at Drury Lane. The rivalry of the two actors grew so intense that Booth was driven from the stage by a serious theatrical riot. In 1821, he made his first appearance in the United States, again as Richard III., and was received with such enthusiasm that he settled permanently at Baltimore. From here he made professional excursions to other American cities. Among his most familiar personations were Iago, Hamlet, Shylock, Sir Giles Overreach, and Sir Edmund Mortimer. Over his audiences he ever exercised a wonderful power. On his death he left two sons, both actors like himself, and both destined to make their mark in life.
The death of Thomas Moore, the Irish poet, excited as much attention in Death of Tom Moore America as it did in England. Born at Dublin in 1779, Tom Moore, as he was usually called, wrote verses in early youth. Like Pope, he may be said to have lisped in numbers. At the age of thirteen he was a contributor to the "Anthologia Hibernica." After graduating at Trinity College he came to London, and there dedicated his translation of the poems of Anacreon to the Prince Regent. He became a favorite of fashionable society. Among his patrons were the Earl of Moira, Lord Holland, the Marquis of Lansdowne, and other noblemen of the Whig party. He obtained the appointment of Registrar to the Admiralty in Bermuda, but on arriving there hired a deputy to Moore's American impressions discharge the duties of the office and went on a tour to America. Like some other famous travellers, he conceived a poor opinion of the American people. In commemoration of his trip, Moore brought out "Epistles, Odes and other Poems," containing many defamatory verses on America. One scurrilous stanza read:
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The patriot, fresh from Freedom's councils come, Now pleas'd retires to lash his slaves at home; Or woo, perhaps, some black Aspasia's charms, And dream of freedom in his bondmaid's arms. |
In a footnote Moore was careful to explain that this allusion was to the President of the United States, Thomas Jefferson. The poems were roughly handled by the "Edinburgh Review." This led to a duel between Moore and Jeffrey—a bloodless encounter, which resulted in a life-long friendship "Irish Melodies" between the two men. The same affair produced a quarrel and Moore's subsequent friendship with Byron. Throughout this time Moore brought out his charming "Irish Melodies," the most popular of all his productions. Messrs. Longwin, the publishers, agreed to give him £3,000 for a long poem "Lalla Rookh" on an oriental subject. Moore retired to the banks of the Dofe, surrounded himself with oriental books, and in three years produced "Lalla Rookh." The success of this work was beyond the expectations of the publishers. After achieving this triumph, Moore travelled abroad in the company of the wealthy poet Rogers, and later of Lord John Russell. At Venice he visited Lord Byron. The affairs of his office in Bermuda next called him there, after which he resided in Paris, where he wrote his famous "Fables for the Holy Alliance." Returning to England, he settled at Bow-wood near Wiltshire, the seat of his life-long friend, Lord Lansdowne. There he spent his declining years and died in dotage.
Tom Moore, while a very popular poet, produced few poems of lasting quality. Most characteristic of Moore, perhaps, are his lightest verses, such as "The Time I Lost in Wooing," the melodious lines "Oft, in the Stilly Night," or the famous Irish apostrophe:
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Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee, "Dear Harp of My Country" The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long, When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song! The warm lay of love and the light note of gladness Have waken'd thy fondest, thy liveliest thrill; But, so oft hast thou echoed the deep sigh of sadness, That ev'n in thy mirth it will steal from thee still. Dear Harp of my Country! farewell to thy numbers, This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine! Go, sleep with the sunshine of Fame on thy slumbers, Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine; If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thine own. |
The death of Wellington, on September 14, was felt as a national loss in Death of Wellington England. The Iron Duke died in his eighty-fourth year, having grown more and more infirm in his last few years. Arthur Wellesley, or Wesley, as the name was originally written, singularly enough received his first military education in France, under the direction of Pignorel, the celebrated engineer. He saw his first active service with the Duke of York's disastrous expedition to the Netherlands in 1794. There he gained his colonelcy. After his transfer to India he served under his elder brother, Marquis Wellesley, and gained the brilliant victories of Assaye and of Wellesley's campaigns Argaum. On his return from India he was appointed Secretary of Ireland, and there established the celebrated police force which later served as a model for that of London. In 1807, he took part in the expedition against Copenhagen, and after the death of Sir John Moore was sent to Portugal, where he won the battles of Rolica, Vimiera, the brilliant passage of the Douro, and the hard-fought field of Talavera. The battle of Busaco, the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz, the victories of Salamanca and Vittoria, followed, and the Viscount successively became Earl and Marquis of Wellington, and a grant from Parliament subsequently placed him in possession of the domain of Strathfieldsaye. The capture of Pampeluna and St. Sebastian, and the defeat of the French in the passes of the Pyrenees, enabled him to plant the British ensign on French ground.
The concluding triumphs of Orthes and Toulouse were succeeded by the general peace and by his own promotion to a dukedom, the baton of a field-marshal having previously been conferred upon him for his victory at Salamanca. In 1814, the Duke of Wellington was appointed Ambassador to France, and proceeded in that capacity to the Congress of Vienna. While there, the return of Napoleon from Elba once more called him to the field; and on June 18, 1815, he gained his greatest triumph at Waterloo. After this Wellington served his country in the capacity of a diplomat, as Commander-in-Chief of the army, Prime Minister, and again as Commander-in-Chief of the army. A public funeral was of course decreed. Wellington's funeral William Gladstone pronounced the funeral oration in Parliament. In the procession that followed Wellington's bier, British soldiers of every arm and of every regiment of the service for the first time marched together. From Grosvenor Gate to St. Paul's Cathedral there was not a foot of unoccupied ground. An unbroken silence was maintained as the procession moved slowly by to the mausoleum where the remains of England's great warrior were to be placed side by side with those of Nelson. Alfred Tennyson recited his famous ode on the death of the Duke of Wellington:
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Bury the Great Duke Tennyson's Ode With an empire's lamentation, Let us bury the Great Duke To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, Mourning when their leaders fall, Warriors carry the warrior's pall, And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall. Lead out the pageant: sad and slow, As fits an universal woe, Let the long, long procession go, And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow, And let the mournful martial music blow; The last great Englishman is low. |
A new Parliament assembled in November. The result of the elections left the government in as hopeless a minority as before. An elaborate system of finance brought forward by Disraeli was rudely handled by Gladstone. The Disraeli and Gladstone debate was one of the fiercest ever heard in Parliament. The excitement on both sides was intense. Disraeli, animated by the power of desperation, was in a mood neither to give nor to take quarter. He assailed Sir Charles Wood, the late Chancellor of the Exchequer, with a vehemence which more than once went to the very limits of Parliamentary decorum. The House had not heard the concluding word of Disraeli's bitter and impassioned speech, when Gladstone leaped to his feet to answer him. The Government was defeated. Disraeli took his defeat with characteristic composure. The morning was cold and wet. "It will be an unpleasant day for going to Osborne," he quietly remarked to a friend as they went down Westminster Hall together and looked out into the dreary street. That day, at Osborne, the resignation of the Ministry was accepted by the Queen.