'I attended her funeral on the 10th'—Reeve noted in his Journal—'and went in an immense procession from Twickenham to Weybridge.'
From M. Guizot
Val Richer, November 21st.—I never had any taste for travelling. I would willingly go a hundred miles for an hour's conversation with such or such a person; but the miles themselves have little interest for me. However, your tour in Portugal, as you describe it, would have tempted me. I like a country which is different from all others. Still, I am quite sure that, after having amused yourself in Portugal, you are very glad to be back in England….
Lord Clarendon may be quite easy; no difficulty affecting his department will come from here. Country and Government are equally inclined to peace. As to our home affairs, which alone have any interest just now, I am a little sad, but not uneasy. We are returning—quietly, ignorantly, and with tottering steps—into the right path, the parliamentary system. The country is coming back to it. The Emperor does not, and will not, offer any serious resistance to it. We shall make blunders, both in our procedure and debates, but shall, nevertheless, make sensible progress. What we are in want of is the men.
From Lord Westbury
Hinton St. George, November 25th.—Mrs. Reeve, when I had the pleasure of seeing her at Hinton, gave me an assurance that I should not be troubled this year with any request to attend the Privy Council. Your letter, therefore, is an act of gross domestic insubordination—a kind of petty treason. Formerly it was the act of the husband that bound the wife; mais nous avons changé tout cela; the act of the wife binds the husband. I appeal unto Caesar. It is very easy for Lord Chelmsford and yourself, who have your town houses in order, your servants, horses, carriages, and whole establishments, not omitting the placens uxor, to talk of the 'patriotic duty' of attending the Privy Council—having nothing else to do, and wanting amusement; but my house is thoroughly dismantled, having been under repair; I have not a room to sit down in with comfort, nor servants to attend to me, nor a cook to cook my dinner, nor any of those solatia or solamina which you have in profusion. Yet you, with great unconcern, desire me to quit my family, and all my amusements and enjoyments, that I may come to town to endure complete wretchedness, and have a bad dinner and an indigestion everyday, ut plebi placeam et declamatio fiam. If you think this reasonable and right, I am sure you have left all sense of reasonableness in Lusitania. Besides, have you not a plethora of judicial wealth and power? Have you not the Lord Justice, who has little else to do; and the Admiralty Judge; and that great Adminiculum, the learned and pious man whom, honoris causâ, I call Holy Joe? [Footnote: Probably sir Joseph Napier, nominated to a place on the Judicial Committee by Disraeli in March 1868.] But to speak more gravely. Had I had the least conception that I should have been wanted—that is, really wanted—I would have made other arrangements than I have done…. We shall now have a house full of people until December 20th, and I cannot, without much offence, relieve myself from these deferred engagements. A little while ago I was thrown out of my shooting-cart; I injured my arm, which has brought on rheumatism, and I am not in a condition to come up to a solitary and dismantled house in London without anything requisite for the comfort of an old man. On January 20th, until the beginning of appeals in the Lords, I will, if you need it, sit and dispose of all the colonial and admiralty appeals. When will you come down and shoot?
To Lord Derby
62 Rutland Gate, December 19th.
My dear Lord Derby, [Footnote: For some years Reeve had known him as Lord Stanley. He had succeeded to the title on October 23rd.]—I cannot without emotion address you by your present name. Although I never had the honour of much personal acquaintance with your father, he has been, for the last thirty years, an object of familiar interest even to those with whom he was not familiar. His high spirit, his splendid eloquence, his public services, have endeared him to thousands whom he hardly knew, and caused them to share the feelings with which you, in a far higher degree, must regard this great loss. I have no doubt, however, that you will support and increase the honour of a name so illustrious, and I know no one more fit to bear it…. Mrs. Reeve begs to join with me in again presenting to you our very sincere regards, and I remain,
Very faithfully yours,