HUGHENDEN MANOR. (From a Photograph by Taunt and Co.)
A new political term crept into use, namely, “Jingoism,”[117] or the cult of the war-god Jingo, whose worshippers, however, were bellicose rather than warlike, for they always prefaced their hymnal invocations by the assurance that they did “not want to fight.” The Ministry, too, was divided—Lord Beaconsfield, Lord John Manners, and Mr. Hardy leading the “Jingo” faction, whilst Lord Derby, Lord Carnarvon, and Mr. Cross represented the Peace Party. This split in the Cabinet was deplored at the time, and yet it was of enormous advantage to England. It prevented her from being dragged into the war. It is true that it buoyed up the expectant Turks with false hopes of aid from England, and thus tempted them to reject the easy terms of peace which Russia would have accepted after the fall of Plevna.[118] But the wrecking of Turkey was not in 1877 a matter that deeply moved the British taxpayer, unless he held Turkish Bonds, and if Lord Beaconsfield, Mr. Hardy, Lord John Manners, and their group, by their bellicose attitude, lured the Ottoman race to disaster, it was for the Turkish or War Party, and not for the nation, to call these Ministers to account.[119] As for the policy of neutrality which the English people literally forced on Lord Beaconsfield and Mr. Gladstone, it was justified in the second week of December, by a statement which Count Andrassy made to the Austro-Hungarian Delegations on the 8th and 9th of that month. He frankly said that Austrian sympathies were with the Christian subjects of the Sultan, and that he “would not dare to stand up for the status quo” in Turkey.
It needed little insight to discern that when Austria—a Power that could have hurled 150,000 men on the flank of Russia—declared herself against Turkey, and the status quo, it meant that Russia had bought her alliance by consenting to an Austrian occupation of Bosnia and Herzegovina. In such a crisis the true policy of a high-spirited English statesman was to have safeguarded British interests in the Ottoman Empire by “temporarily” occupying Egypt, as Austria was to “temporarily” occupy Bosnia. Lord Beaconsfield, however, adopted the surest means for paralysing his arm for such a bold stroke. He summoned Parliament to meet three weeks earlier than usual, and permitted his supporters to divert the attention of the country from Egypt—obviously endangered by the impending fall of Turkey—to wild schemes for occupying Gallipoli, sending a fleet to defend Constantinople, and an army to obstruct the advance of Russia in Asia Minor. As any one of these projects meant war with Russia, popular excitement soon grew intense.
In this crisis it was to be expected that the policy of the Court would be the subject of criticism, even though it were based on conjecture. The pro-Turkish party were artful and adroit in their insinuations that the Queen was on their side; though it is doubtful if the country would have paid heed to them but for a curious coincidence. The third volume of the “Life of the Prince Consort” was published at this juncture, and it was assumed by both the partisans of Lord Beaconsfield and Mr. Gladstone that Sir Theodore Martin had issued it by the Queen’s desire in the form of a violent pamphlet against Russia. Perhaps it might have been more discreet to have suppressed some passages, in which the Prince, carried away by the excitement of the Crimean struggle, had naturally taken a less sober and far-seeing view of European diplomacy and English duty than he formulated in his famous Memorandum of 1853. On the other hand, there is no reason to suppose that when the work was compiled Sir Theodore Martin, or rather the Queen, who selected the documents for publication, could have anticipated that the London Press and the Pall Mall clubs would be agitated by a frenzied controversy as to whether the Cossack was a more moral man than the Bashi-Bazouk, or Lord Beaconsfield a greater traitor than Mr. Gladstone. Nor can it be said that a just view of the Prince Consort’s opinions would have been obtained if his letter to Stockmar, penned in April, 1854, and his Memorandum to the Cabinet of the 3rd of May, 1855, had been withheld. The former expressed the Prince’s regret that the English public were too excited to permit the Government to stand by, and, having let Turkey dash herself to pieces against Russia, step in and take guarantees against Russia using her victory to the prejudice of Europe. Public opinion in 1854, the Prince regretfully admitted, recognised no way of taking these guarantees but one—that of supporting Turkey at the outset, so that the influence thus gained might be used to persuade the Porte to behave decently. As for the Memorandum of May, 1855, written during the negotiations at Vienna, it merely put on record his strong feeling against giving Russia an excuse for enforcing, single-handed, demands which Europe might make on Turkey. It is simply amazing that by these documents the Russophobes pretended to prove that the Queen was on the side of Turkey, and the Russophiles that she was for attempting to raise another Crimean War. The natural inferences from the documents read in connection with the Memorandum of 1853, were (1), that as English public opinion had now changed so as to tolerate the policy of expectancy, for which Prince Albert hinted his personal preference, he would, if alive, have supported the “sordid” national policy of neutrality, and that, too, all the more readily that Austria and Germany were better able to curb Russia in 1877 than in 1854; (2), that he would have either accepted the Berlin Memorandum, or have taken steps to give executive effect to the demands formulated by the Conference of Constantinople.
But another circumstance gave colour to the floating gossip as to the Queen’s pro-Turkish sympathies.[120] She resolved to confer on Lord Beaconsfield a distinction she had bestowed only on three of her Premiers—Melbourne, Peel, and Aberdeen—that of paying him a visit at his country seat. It was on the 15th of December that the Queen arrived at High Wycombe, which she found lavishly decorated with evergreens, flowers, and flags. At one part of her route there was built a triumphal arch of chairs (representing the staple manufacture of the town), in which she displayed a special interest. Accompanied by the Princess Beatrice, her Majesty was received at High Wycombe railway-station by Lord Beaconsfield and the Local Authorities, who presented her with a loyal address. The Mayor’s daughter then presented bouquets to their illustrious visitors, after which the Royal party drove, amidst the cheers of the townspeople, to Hughenden Manor. Her Majesty had luncheon there with the Prime Minister, and spent about two hours in his house. She and the Princess planted trees in the grounds in memory of their visit.
THE QUEEN’S VISIT TO HUGHENDEN: AT HIGH WYCOMBE RAILWAY STATION.
If political significance could be attributed to the visit, it must have had some relation to the most recent action of the Government. That had, however, consisted in sending a despatch to Russia (13th of December) expressing a hope that, if the Russians crossed the Balkans, they would not occupy Constantinople or menace the Dardanelles.[121] To this Gortschakoff’s answer was a repetition of the pledge given in July, that British interests would be respected, and that Constantinople should only be occupied if the obstinacy of the Turks forced that step on Russia as a military necessity.[122] That the Queen should approve of such a despatch as that which Lord Derby sent two days before she visited Hughenden, and of its frank warning that the occupation of Constantinople would leave England free to take active steps for protecting British interests, was only natural. Yet it was out of this visit that there grew up a great fabric of foolish gossip, the purport of which was that the Sovereign was goading the Cabinet into war with Russia! The Ministerial Press made matters worse by pretending that Prince Gortschakoff’s reply to the despatch of the 13th of December was insulting to England. But on the 2nd of January, 1878, Lord Carnarvon, addressing a South African deputation, took occasion to contradict these assertions. The fall of Plevna, he said, had not materially affected the policy of the Cabinet, which was still one of neutrality, and there had been nothing in the Russian communications with the Ministry of an insulting or discourteous character. The war scare now subsided as if by magic, and Funds rose a quarter per cent. But the Ministerial newspapers heaped obloquy on Lord Carnarvon, declaring that he merely spoke for himself; and at a Cabinet Meeting on the 3rd of January there was quite a “scene” between him and Lord Beaconsfield. The Prime Minister condemned the speech of his colleague, who, however, put on a bold front, and read a Memorandum before the Cabinet vindicating his position, and re-affirming everything that he had said. Lord Beaconsfield merely asked him for a copy of this document, and no Minister then or at any subsequent period hinted at a private or public disavowal of Lord Carnarvon’s statement. A very conciliatory answer was sent on the 12th of January to Prince Gortschakoff. It did not even suggest that the temporary military occupation of Constantinople would endanger British interests, but it asked Russia not to touch Gallipoli. On the 15th of January Prince Gortschakoff answered that Russia would not occupy Gallipoli unless Turkish troops were massed there; but he said that a British occupation of the Peninsula would be regarded by Russia as a breach of neutrality. On the 17th of January Parliament met, and, to its surprise, found itself greeted with a Royal Speech couched in the most dove-like terms of peace. The War Party were abashed. Even Lord Beaconsfield spoke not of daggers, though he hinted vaguely at the chances of using them. There was also a clause in the Queen’s Speech which, after admitting that none of the conditions of British neutrality had been violated, alluded darkly to the possibility of something occurring which might render “measures of precaution” necessary. Lord Salisbury, however, went out of his way to state that the Czar, so far from having aggressive designs, had shown himself anxious to defer to the wishes of Europe, and was possessed with “an almost tormenting desire for peace,” so that Members went about asking each other—Why had Parliament been summoned so soon, to the great disturbance of business and the alarm of the nation, merely to be told that everything was going on smoothly? The fact is, that it had been Lord Beaconsfield’s original intention to send the Fleet to the Dardanelles.