This last clause was strongly objected to by the Queen,[300] as "inconsistent with her constitutional position as head of the army, which required that the Commander-in-chief should be put in communication with the new Secretary of State for India, in the same manner in which he is placed with regard to the troops at home or in the colonies toward the Secretary of State for War.... With regard to the whole army, whether English or Indian, there could, with due regard to the public interest, be only one head and one general command." She yielded her opinion, however, to the resolute objections of the Prime-minister, with whom on this point his predecessor,[301] Lord Palmerston, agreed; but the result proved the superior soundness of her Majesty's view. It was not only a most anomalous arrangement, since the supreme control of all the warlike forces was one of the most inalienable prerogatives of the crown, but it had the strange fault of preserving the double government in the case in which, above all others, unity of system and unity of command were most indispensable. And, what weighed more than either consideration with the generally practical views of English statesmen, it was from the beginning found to work badly, creating, as it did, great and mischievous jealousies between the two divisions, the Royal and the Indian army. It was found that all the generals then in the highest commands in India-Lord Clyde (Sir Colin Campbell having been ennobled by that title), Sir Hugh Rose, and Sir William Mansfield-strongly disapproved of it, and recommended a change; and consequently, in the summer of 1860, Lord Palmerston, who in the mean while had returned to the Treasury, came round to the Queen's view of the subject, and a new act was passed which amalgamated the two armies into one Imperial army, taking its turn of duty throughout all parts of the British empire.[302]
A letter addressed by Lord Palmerston to the Queen in the autumn of 1857, which appears to have been his first statement to her Majesty of the opinion which he had formed of the necessity of abolishing the governing authority of the Company, states the principal arguments in favor of such a measure with great clearness, as arising from "the inconvenience and difficulty of administering the government of a vast country on the other side of the globe by means of two cabinets, the one responsible to the crown and Parliament, the other only responsible to the holders of Indian stock, meeting for a few hours three or four times a year, which had been shown by the events of the year to be no longer tolerable." His disapproval of parts of Lord Ellenborough's policy probably prevented him from alluding to his recall from India by the Directors, in direct defiance of the opinion of the government,[303] though that strange step can hardly have been absent from his mind. But, in fact, the case for taking the whole rule of so vast a dominion wholly into the hands of the Queen's government at home was so irresistible, that it did not require to be strengthened by reference to any individual instances of inconvenience. When the double government was originally established, the English in India were still but a small mercantile community, with very little territory beyond that in the immediate neighborhood of its three chief cities. Of the conduct of the affairs of such a body, still almost confined to commerce, the chief share might not unreasonably be left to the merchants themselves, subject to such supervision on the part of the government at home as was implied in the very name of the department invested with that supervision, the Board of Control, which, as Pitt explained the name, was meant to show that it was not to be, like the measure proposed by the Coalition Ministry, a board of political influence.[304] But the case was wholly altered when British India reached from Point de Galle to the Himalayas, and spread beyond the Ganges on the east, to beyond the Indus on the west; when the policy adopted in India often influenced our dealings with European states, and when the force required for the protection of those vast interests exceeded the numbers of the royal army. India, too, is a country the climate of which prevents our countrymen from emigrating to it as settlers, as they do to Canada or Australia, and where, consequently, the English residents are, and always must be, a mere handful in comparison with the millions of natives. In such a case their government must at all times rest mainly on opinion, on the belief in the pre-eminent power of the ruler; and it was obvious that that belief would be greatly fortified by the sovereign of Britain becoming that ruler.[305] The great rajahs cordially recognized the value of the transfer of power considered in this light, and felt their own dignity enhanced by becoming the vassals of the sovereign herself.
Turning to French affairs, a brilliant French writer has remarked, that his countrymen are, of all peoples, the least suited to be conspirators, since none of them can ever keep a secret. But it was the ill-fortune of Louis Napoleon that he had provoked enmities, not only among his own countrymen, but among the republican fanatics of other nations also, who saw in his zeal for absolute authority the greatest obstacle to their designs, which aimed at the overthrow of every established government on the Continent, and shrunk from no crimes which they conceived to be calculated to promote their object. To free themselves from such an antagonist, the most wholesale murders seemed by no means too large a price. And in the middle of January, as the Emperor and Empress were going to the Opera, a prodigious explosion took place almost beneath the wheels of their carriage, from the effect of which they themselves had a most narrow escape, both being struck in the face by splinters, the aide-de-camp in their carriage also being severely wounded on the head; while their escort and attendants were struck down on all sides, ten being killed and above one hundred and fifty wounded.[306] It was soon found out that the authors of this atrocious crime were four Italians, of whom a man named Orsini was the chief, and that he, who had but recently escaped from a prison in Mantua, had fled from that town to England, and had there concocted all the details of his plot, and had procured the shells which had been his instruments.
It was not unnatural that so atrocious a crime, causing such wide-spread destruction, should awaken great excitement in France, and in many quarters violent reclamations against England and her laws, which enabled foreign plotters to make her a starting-place for their nefarious schemes. Even in the French Chambers very bitter language was used on the subject by some of the most influential Deputies, for which our ministers were disposed to make allowance, Lord Clarendon, the Foreign Secretary, writing to the Prince Consort that "it was not to be expected that foreigners, who see that assassins go and come here as they please, and that conspiracies may be hatched in England with impunity, should think our laws and policy friendly to other countries, or appreciate the extreme difficulty of making any change in our system."[307]
But a different feeling was roused by a despatch of the French Secretary of State to the ambassador here, which seemed to impute to this country that it deliberately sheltered and countenanced men by whose writings "assassination was elevated into a doctrine openly preached, and carried into practice by reiterated attacks" upon the person of the French sovereign, and asked, in language which had rather an imperious tone, "Ought the English Legislature to contribute to the designs of men who were not mere fugitives, but assassins, and continue to shelter persons who place themselves beyond the pale of common right, and under the ban of humanity? Her Britannic Majesty's Government can assist us in averting a repetition of such guilty enterprises, by affording us a guarantee of security which no state can refuse to a neighboring state, and which we are justified in expecting from an ally. Fully relying, moreover, on the profound sagacity of the English Cabinet, we refrain from indicating in any way the measures which it may seem fit to take in order to comply with this wish. We confidently leave it to decide on the course which it shall deem best fitted to the end in view." Still, though the charge that our Legislature contributed to the designs of assassins was some departure from the measured language more usual in diplomatic communications between friendly powers, under the circumstances this remonstrance might have been borne with. Unluckily, it was not all, nor the worst, that we were called upon to bear. A few days afterward some addresses to the Emperor from different military corps were published i
n the Moniteur, which not only poured forth bitter reproaches against the whole English nation, but demanded to be led to an invasion of the country, "as an infamous haunt for the carrying out of infernal machinations." Political addresses seem to our ideas inconsistent with military discipline; but the army had been permitted, and even encouraged, to make them ever since the days of the Consulate, though such addresses never received the recognition of a publication in the official journal till they had been subjected to careful revision, and, if necessary, expurgation. On this occasion, however, that supervision had been carelessly performed, and the offensive passages were left standing, though, when the Emperor learned the indignation which they had excited even among his well-wishers in England, he instructed his ambassador to apologize for their retention and publication, as an act of inadvertence on the part of the officials whose duty it had been to revise such documents. So far all was well. And had the English ministers replied to the despatch of M. de Persigny in firm and temperate language, they would have escaped the difficulties which eventually overthrew them. There was no doubt that, according to diplomatic usage, a written despatch formally communicated to the Secretary of State required a written reply.
Unfortunately, a written reply was not given. Lord Clarendon was too apprehensive of the mischief which might possibly arise from a protracted discussion, leading, perhaps, to an angry controversy; and under the influence of this feeling contented himself, when the despatch was presented, with giving the ambassador a verbal answer, that "no consideration on earth would induce Parliament to pass a measure for the extradition of foreign political refugees; that our asylum could not be infringed, and that we adhered to certain principles on that subject which were so old and so sacred that they could not be touched;"[308] adding, however, at the same time an assurance that the Attorney-general was already, at his request, examining our law of conspiracy, to see whether it was sufficiently comprehensive or stringent. The purport of this answer was all that could have been desired; but there was a very general impression that the omission to reply by a written despatch was a sacrifice of the national dignity, if not an unworthy submission to scarcely disguised menace; though at the same time there was also a feeling among both parties in Parliament that our laws with respect to the conduct of foreigners residing among us were, perhaps, susceptible of improvement. On the very first night of the session, in allusion to the attack on the French Emperor, Lord Derby had said that "he could wish to hear the opinion of the ministers whether the existing laws of this country were adequate to afford security for the lives of foreign princes against plots contrived in this country; and, if they were not, whether they might not be amended, so as to meet the case of such crimes as had recently been perpetrated, which were so heinous and revolting to every feeling of humanity." And even before that speech the ministers had applied themselves to frame a measure to amend the law, which in the second week of February the Prime-minister himself introduced to the House of Commons.
It was read a first time, though not without some opposition; but before it arrived at the second reading, though only a week afterward, the feeling of the country, reflected in this instance by the House, had become so inflamed, that the measure was not discussed on its own merits, but on the point whether, since no other answer had been given to the French despatch, this must not be regarded as the ministerial answer, and therefore whether it were such an answer as it befitted England to send. Had it been examined on its own merits solely, it could hardly have provoked much adverse criticism. It was entitled, "A bill to amend the law with relation to the crime of conspiracy to commit murder," and it merely proposed to establish in England a law which had long existed in Ireland. Hitherto, as Lord Palmerston explained the matter, England had treated conspiracy to murder as a misdemeanor, punishable with fine and imprisonment. In Ireland it had long been a capital crime; and, though he did not propose to assimilate the English to the Irish statute in all its severity, he proposed to enact that conspiracy to murder should be a felony, punishable with penal servitude, by whomsoever the conspiracy might be concocted, or wherever the crime might be designed to be committed.
The principle of such a law, supported as it was by the precedent of Ireland, could hardly be resisted. And Mr. Walpole, who had been Home-secretary in Lord Derby's ministry, avowed his determination to support the bill, "as being right in principle." But even he limited his promise of support by a condition "that the honor of England should be previously vindicated;" arguing that the French despatch bore the character of a demand, based upon allegations which were contrary to truth, and which, therefore, the ministers were bound to repudiate; and that to pass such a bill without putting on record a formal denial of those allegations would, in the general view of Europe, imply a confession that to them we had no answer to give. And it was this consideration which eventually determined the decision of the House, Mr. Disraeli, who closed the debate on his side, condemning the conduct of the ministers as "perplexed, timid, confused, wanting in dignity and self-respect. In not replying to the despatch, they had lost a great opportunity of asserting the principles of public law." The House, taking his view of their conduct, threw out the bill by a majority of nineteen;[309] and the ministry resigned, and was succeeded by one under the presidency of Lord Derby.
Many of those who on this occasion combined to form the majority had denounced the bill, as an infringement of the principles of our constitution. It is, however, evident that, had it passed, it would not have deserved such a description. It would in no degree whatever have deprived a foreign resident of safety and the protection of English law, so long as he should obey that law; and that is all the indulgence that the constitution ever gave or ought to give. Foreigners had always been amenable to our courts of justice for any violation of the law. And Lord Palmerston's bill not only went no farther than removing a certain class of offences from the category of misdemeanors to that of felonies, but it also imposed no liability in that respect on foreigners which it did not at the same time impose on all the Queen's subjects. Indeed, the bill was so moderate, and the improvement it proposed so desirable, that, in a subsequent discussion in the House of Lords, Lord Campbell, the Chief-justice, expressed a hope that Lord Derby's government would take it up; though Lord Derby, in view of the existing feeling of the country on the subject, prudently forbore to act on that suggestion. But, as one of Orsini's most guilty accomplices, a man named Bernard, was still in London, he caused him to be indicted for murder, as having incurred that guilt as accessary to the death of some whom the explosion had killed. The excitement on the question had, however, not died away when the trial came on; and, though it will, probably, be generally admitted that the evidence was sufficiently clear, Bernard was acquitted.
Lord Derby, however, did not long retain his office. Indeed, the Earl was so conscious that, on questions of general policy, the House of Commons was inclined to views differing from his own, that he would have preferred declining the task of forming a ministry, had he not conceived that, in the difficulty in which the Queen was placed by recent circumstances, he was bound by his duty to make the attempt, even if the result of it were merely to obtain a kind of respite for his sovereign and the country, which might give time for the present excitement of feeling to calm down. He was not deceived in his forebodings of his inability to maintain his position. In the course of the next spring he was twice defeated in the House of Commons-once by the House which he found in existence, and a second time in one which was the fruit of a general election. And in the summer of 1859 Lord Palmerston returned to office, with power increased by the junction of many of those who had helped to overthrow him in 1858, but who now combined with him to strike a similar blow at his Conservative successor.
Yet, brief as was Lord Derby's tenure of power, it was made memorable by the commencement of a movement which cannot be regarded as devoid of constitutional importance, since, though originally it was only designed to supply a temporary re-enforcement to
our ancient constitutional forces, the regular army and the militia, it has eventually created a force which, to the great honor of those who constitute it, has become a permanent addition to them. In the great war against Revolutionary France, when it was generally believed that those who held rule in Paris were contemplating an invasion of these islands, Pitt, as we have seen, had encouraged the formation of corps of volunteers, which continued to be of great use till the very end of the war, by performing, in conjunction with the militia, a great portion of the home duties which must otherwise have fallen on the line regiments, and thus disengaging the regular army for service on the Continent. There was now no such formidable enemy to be dreaded as the first Napoleon, but in every part of Europe affairs were in a state so unquiet that every kingdom seemed at times on the very brink of war; and since, if it should once break out, no one could feel confident that we should not be involved in it, or, if we should be, who would be our allies or our enemies, measures of precaution and self-defence seemed as needful now as they had been sixty years before. Our boldest statesmen were disquieted and anxious; and the nation at large, sharing their uneasiness, kindled with the feeling that it was a time to show that the present generation inherited the self-denying patriotism of their fathers. Leaders were not wanting again to prompt the formation of a volunteer force. The government at once saw the value of the scheme. Fortunately, the Secretary for War, Colonel Peel, happened to be an old soldier, a veteran who had learned the art of war under Wellington himself; and he, having great talents for organization, placed the force from its infancy on a sound footing. How thoroughly the movement harmonized with the martial spirit of the nation-to which, indeed, it owed its birth-is shown by the history of the force, which now, above twenty years after its original formation, maintains its full numbers and yearly improves its efficiency. Though there has not for many years been any apprehension of war, above one hundred and twenty thousand men still annually devote no small portion of their time to the acquisition of military discipline and science, and that so successfully, that, by the testimony of the most experienced judges, they have attained a degree of efficiency which, if the necessity for their services should ever arise, would render them valuable and worthy comrades to the more regularly trained army. Lord Derby retired from office while the force was still in its infancy; but Lord Palmerston was equally sensible of its value, and gave a farther proof of his appreciation of the vast importance of measures of national defence by the vigor with which he carried out the recommendations of a royal commission which had been appointed by the preceding ministry to investigate the condition of our national defences. Its report had pointed out the absolute necessity of an improved system of protection for our great dockyards and arsenals, which, from their position on the coast, were more liable to attack than inland fortresses would have been, had we had such. And, in accordance with that warning, in the summer of 1860, Lord Palmerston proposed the grant of a large sum of money for the fortification of our chief dockyards. It was opposed on a strange variety of grounds; some arguing that the proposed fortifications were superfluous, because our navy was the defence to which the nation was wont deservedly to trust; some that they were needless, because no other nation was in a condition to attack us; others that they were disgraceful, because it was un-English and mean to skulk behind stone walls, and because Lycurgus had refused to trust to stone walls for the safety of Sparta; and one member, the chief spokesman of a new and small party, commonly known as the "peace-at-any-price party," boldly denounced the members of the commission as a set of "lunatics" for framing such a report, and the ministers as guilty of "contemptible cowardice" for suggesting to the nation that there was any danger in being undefended. But the ministry prevailed by a large majority;[310] the money was voted, and the nation in general warmly approved of the measure. As Lord Palmerston subsequently expressed it, "the government, the Parliament, and the nation acted in harmonious concert"[311] on the subject.
The Constitutional History of England From 1760 to 1860 Page 50