The House of Rothschild
Page 8
Ten years later, Disraeli thanked her for sending him a copy of her Addresses. “I have read your little volume with sympathy and admiration,” he wrote, “the tone of tenderness which pervades the Addresses and their devout and elevated feelings must touch the hearts of all of every creed. I had the gratification to read one aloud last evening (on the holiness of the Sabbath). Its piety & eloquence deeply touched my auditors ...”
Disraeli’s novels need to be read in the light of all this. In Coningsby, the character of Sidonia is, as Lord Blake has said, a cross between Lionel and Disraeli himself. To be more precise, he has Lionel’s background, profession, religion, temperament and perhaps even looks (“pale, with an impressive brow, and dark eyes of great intelligence”), though his political and philosophical views are Disraeli’s. Thus we are told that his father had made money in the Peninsular War, then “resolved to emigrate to England, with which he had in the course of years, formed considerable commercial connections. He arrived here after the peace of Paris, with his large capital. He staked all on the Waterloo loan; and the event made him one of the greatest capitalists in Europe.” After the war, he and his brothers lent their money to the European states—“France wanted some; Austria more; Prussia a little; Russia a few millions”—and he “became lord and master of the money-market of the world.” The younger Sidonia has all the skills of a banker: he is an accomplished mathematician and “possessed a complete mastery over the principal European languages,” skills honed by travels to Germany, Paris and Naples. He is formidably dispassionate, a quality detailed at considerable length (for example, “he shrank from sensibility, and often took refuge in sarcasm”). We are even told that “his devotion to field-sports ... was the safety valve of his energy,” and are treated to a detailed description of what can only be one of the Rothschild hotels in Paris. Interestingly, Sidonia is also the hero’s rival in love: he wrongly suspects his beloved Edith of being the object of Sidonia’s desires, though it transpires that the cold-hearted Sidonia is himself the object of another’s unrequited love.
In this context, the most intriguing passages in Coningsby are those which deal with Sidonia’s religion. We are told early on that he is “of that faith that the Apostles professed before they followed their master” and later that he is “as firm in his adherence to the code of the great Legislator as if the trumpet still sounded on Sinai.” He was “proud of his origin, and confident in the future of his kind.” In one important respect, Sidonia is more Disraeli than Lionel, as he is said to be descended from Spanish Marranos—Sephardic Jews who had outwardly conformed as Catholics while remaining Jews in secret—and Disraeli liked to fantasise that his own family were Sephardi. But much of the rest is manifestly Rothschild-inspired. Thus as a young man Sidonia is “shut out from universities and schools, those universities and schools which were indebted for their first knowledge of ancient philosophy to the learning and enterprise of his ancestors.” In addition, “his religion walled him out from the pursuits of a citizen.” Yet “no earthly considerations would ever induce him to impair that purity of race on which he prides himself” by marrying a Gentile. It is only when Sidonia’s views on his “race” are expounded that Disraeli takes over from Lionel:The Hebrew is an unmixed race ... An unmixed race of a first rate organisation are the aristocracy of Nature ... In his comprehensive travels, Sidonia had visited and examined the Hebrew communities of the world. He had found in general, the lower orders debased; the superior immersed in sordid pursuits; but he perceived that the intellectual development was not impaired. This gave him hope. He was persuaded that organisation would outlive persecution. When he reflected on what they had endured, it was only marvellous the race had not disappeared ... In spite of centuries, of tens of centuries of degradation, the Jewish mind exercises a vast influence on the affairs of Europe. I speak not of their laws, which you still obey; of their literature, with which your minds are saturated; but of the living Hebrew intellect.
Yet even here the Rothschild influence is detectable. When Disraeli seeks to illustrate his point about the extent of Jewish influence, he draws with extraordinary directness from recent Rothschild history when he has Sidonia say:“I told you just now that I was going up to town tomorrow, because I [have] always made it a rule to interpose when affairs of State were on the carpet. Otherwise, I never interfere. I read of peace and war in newspapers, but I am never alarmed, except when I am informed that the Sovereigns want more treasure ...
“A few years back we were applied to by Russia. Now, there has been no friendship between the Court of St Petersburgh and my family. It has Dutch connections, which have generally supplied it; and our representations in favour of the Polish Hebrews, a numerous race, but the most suffering and degraded of all the tribes, have not been very agreeable to the Czar. However, circumstances drew to an approximation between the Romanoffs. I resolved to go myself to St Petersburgh. I had, on my arrival, an interview with the Russian Minister of Finance Count Can crin; I beheld the son of a Lithuanian Jew. The loan was connected with the affairs of Spain; I resolved on repairing to Spain from Russia. I had an audience immediately on my arrival with the Spanish Minister, Senor Mendizabel [sic]; I beheld one like myself, the son of a Nuevo Chris tiano, a Jew of Arragon. In consequence of what transpired at Madrid, I went straight to Paris to consult the President of the French Council; I beheld the son of a French Jew [presumably Soult].
“... So you see my dear Coningsby, that the world is governed by very different personages from what is imagined by those who are not behind the scenes.”
Leaving aside the Disraelian fantasy that these eminent figures were themselves Jewish, this is unmistakably Rothschildian in inspiration.
There is even a pointed and very topical allusion to the Jews being politically “arrayed in the same ranks as the leveller and the latitudinarian, and prepared to support the policy which may even endanger his life and property, rather than tamely continue under a system which seeks to degrade him. The Tories lose an important election at a critical moment; ‘tis the Jews come forward to vote against them ... Yet the Jews, Coningsby, are essentially Tories. Toryism, indeed, is but copied from the mighty prototype which has fashioned Europe.” It is easy to see why Hannah, enjoyed the book. As she wrote to Charlotte, “in dwelling upon the good qualities of Sidonia’s race; in using many arguments for their emancipation he cleverly introduced many circumstances we might recognise and the character was finely drawn ... I have written a note to him expressing our admiration of his spiritual production.”
If Coningsby contains a coded dedication to Lionel, then Tancred has one to his wife. The scene in London is once again set with copious Rothschild allusions. We pay a visit to “Sequin Court,” as well as to Sidonia’s lavishly decorated house. There are topical allusions to Sidonia’s efforts to acquire a French railway called “The Great Northern.” Once again, Sidonia is a mouthpiece for Disraelian theory—which now sought to redefine Christianity as essentially a variant or development of Judaism:“I believe [Sidonia declares] that God spoke to Moses on Mount Horeb, and you believe that he was crucified, in the person of Jesus on Mount Calvary. Both were, at least carnally, children of Israel: they spoke Hebrew to the Hebrews. The prophets were only Hebrews; the apostles were only Hebrews. The churches of Asia, which have vanished, were founded by a native Hebrew; and the church of Rome, which says it shall last for ever, and which converted this island to the faith of Moses and of Christ ... was also founded by a native Hebrew.”
It is the character of Eva, however, who makes the boldest pronouncements along these lines. As a Syrian-Jewish princess, of course, she bears little superficial resemblance to Charlotte; however, the description of her physiognomy suggests that she provided Disraeli with some kind of model. In the same way, though it seems improbable that Charlotte’s views bore any resemblance to Eva‘s, we should not rule it out. She has, for example, a Rothschildian aversion to the idea of mixed marriage and conversion. “The Hebrews
have never blended with their conquerors,” she exclaims and later: “No; I will never become a Christian!” Similarly, Disraeli’s pet theme—the common origins of Judaism and Christianity—has its echoes in her own writings. “Are you of those Franks who worship a Jewess,” asks Eva when she meets Tancred for the first time (in an oasis in the Holy Land), “or of those others who revile her .. ?” Jesus, she reminds him, “was a great man, but he was a Jew; and you worship him.” So: “Half of Christendom worships a Jewess, and the other half a Jew.” Another Rothschildian passage has Eva ask Tancred:“Which is the greatest city in Europe?”
“Without doubt, the capital of my country London.”
... “How rich the most honoured man must be there! Tell me, is he a Christian?”
“I believe he is one of your race and faith.”
“And in Paris; who is the richest man in Paris?”
“The brother, I believe, of the richest man in London.”
“I know all about Vienna,” said the lady, smiling, “Caesar makes my countrymen barons of the empire, and rightly, for it would fall to pieces in a week without their support.”
Where Disraeli left Charlotte behind was in his contrived (and to contemporaries outrageous) argument that, in “supply[ing] the victim and the immolators” at the crucifixion of Christ, the Jews had “fulfilled the beneficent intention” of God and “saved the human race.” Nor would she have accepted his argument (in Sybil) that “Christianity is completed Judaism, or it is nothing ... Judaism is incomplete without Christianity.”22
The arguments outlined in his fiction informed Disraeli’s attitude to Russell’s disabilities bill. He was prepared to support the bill, but on Tory terms, telling Lionel, Anthony and their wives two weeks before the first debate that “we must ask for our rights and privileges not for concessions and liberty of conscience.” This disconcerted the Liberals round the table: Louisa described Disraeli as talking in “his strange, Tancredian vein” and “wonder[ed] if he will have the courage to speak to the House in the same manner.” He did; and Charlotte was initially enthusiastic: “It was not possible,” she told Delane in March 1848, “to express oneself with greater intelligence ... power, wit or originality than our friend, Disraeli.”
Parliament and Peers
The problem for Disraeli was that what sold as fiction was well-nigh disastrous as practical politics. Less than a year before, he and the Protectionist leader Bentinck had divided their party and ousted Peel as Tory leader; yet in supporting Russell’s bill they were risking yet another split between the front and back benches. Neither of them initially appears to have anticipated the extent of the trouble they were letting themselves in for. Bentinck was especially insouciant, telling Croker in September 1847:I have always, I believe, voted in favour of the Jews. I say I believe, because I never could work myself into caring two straws about the question one way or the other, and scarcely know how I may have voted, viewing it quite differently from the Roman Catholic question, which I have ever considered a great national concernment ... The Jew matter I look upon as a personal matter, as I would a great private estate or a Divorce Bill ... [L]ike the questions affecting the Roman Catholics, with the Protectionist party it should remain an open question. I shall probably give a silent vote, maintaining my own consistency in favour of the Jews, but not offending the larger portion of the party, who, I presume, will be the other way. Disraeli, of course, will warmly support the Jews, first from hereditary prepossession in their favour, and next because he and the Rothschilds are great allies ... The Rothschilds all stand high in private character, and the city of London having elected Lionel Rothschild one of her representatives, it is such a pronunciation of public opinion that I do not think the party, as a party, would do themselves any good by taking up the question against the Jews.23
As for Disraeli, he confidently assured Bentinck and John Manners on November 16 that “the peril is not so imminent ... & the battle will not be fought until next year. ”24
Both were much too sanguine. In fact only two other Protectionists joined them in voting for the bill (Milnes Gaskell and—probably from a conversionist standpoint—Thomas Baring). No fewer than 138, led by diehards like Sir Robert Inglis, voted against, plunging the party into fresh turmoil. “Must I ... cheer Disraeli when he declares that there is no difference between those who crucified Christ and those who kneel before Christ crucified?” Augustus Stafford demanded to know. Bentinck resigned, leaving the leadership of what he now called “the No Popery, No Jew Party” in the hands of Lord Stanley. It is understandable that Disraeli thereafter sought to tone down his views when the matter was debated in the Commons: the remarkable thing is that a man so widely regarded at the time and since as “conscience-less” (Dickens’s phrase) did not quietly drop his support for emancipation altogether. The frequent criticisms of his conduct—especially by Charlotte and Louisa—were unfair; for Disraeli continued to vote and occasionally speak on the same side he had taken in 1847. The uncharitable view would of course be that his financial dependence on Lionel at this period precluded a U-turn; that was what Charlotte suspected. In May 1848 she had another embarrassing scene with Mary Anne, who claimed that Lionel was not replying to Disraeli’s letters. One of these revealed “that her husband was still deeply in debt and was being hounded terribly by the money-lenders and implored my husband for help and support.” After yet another confrontation between the two women, Lionel resolved to lend Disraeli a further £1,000.25 .
There was division within the Peelite camp too. When Russell introduced his bill in December 1847, another who spoke in favour was Peel’s austere High Church protégé Gladstone, who had earlier been an opponent of Jewish emancipation. Although he found the decision “painful” (and confided to his dairy the thought that it might force him to leave Parliament), Gladstone’s logic was typically rigorous: having admitted Catholics, Quakers, Moravians, Separatists and Unitarians to the Commons and having admitted Jews to local government, to maintain the effective prohibition on Jewish MPs would be inconsistent. Peel himself spoke in favour during a later debate in February 1848, and nine other supporters joined him in the “ayes.” But their colleague Goulburn—formerly Peel’s Chancellor—spoke against, seeing the election of an ineligible candidate as a revolutionary challenge to Parliament; and forty other Peelites voted with him. On the second reading, the Peelites split again, 29 for and 43 against. The Tory and Peelite opposition did not suffice, however, to stop Russell’s bill: it was initially approved prior to its first reading by a majority of 67; secured a second reading by a majority of 73; and a third reading by 61 votes.
But it was in the Lords that support was wanting. A few Whigs expressed their support after relatively gentle persuasion. Unlike a bank such as Coutts, however, the Rothschilds had relatively few aristocratic debtors—Lady Ailesbury was a rare exception—and so their leverage in this quarter was limited. Whig grandees like the Duke of Devonshire and the Marquess of Lansdowne could be counted on, while the Marquess of Londonderry was won over by early 1848; but the Earl of Orford had told Hannah when she met him at the Duke of Bedford’s that he was opposed (though he assured her Lionel would “gain” in the end). Lord Ashley, the future Earl of Shaftesbury—responsible for some of the most important social legislation of the period—was another opponent. And among the bishops there was predictably dogged resistance. When Russell’s bill was debated in May 1848, it was strongly opposed by Wilberforce, Bishop of Oxford, and he was joined by the Archbishops of Canterbury and Armagh and sixteen bishops. Only the Archbishop of York and four Whiggish bishops voted in favour. With Lionel, Anthony, Mayer, Hannah and her sister Judith Montefiore watching from the gallery, the measure was rejected by a majority of 35.
Charlotte’s diary gives a vivid account of the impact of the debate and result on the family. She and Louisa were still waiting for their husbands to return from Westminster when, at 3.30 a.m.:the men came into the room, Lionel with a smiling face—he always has s
o much firmness and self-control—Anthony and Mayer crimson in the face ... they said the speeches were scandalous and I was advised not to read a word of them. I went to sleep at 5 and woke again at 6; I had dreamt that a huge vampire was greedily sucking my blood ... Apparently, when the result of the vote was declared, a loud, enthusiastic roar of approval resounded ... throughout the House. Surely we do not deserve so much hatred. I spent all day Friday weeping and sobbing out of over-excitement.
Some idea of the flavour of the temporal lords’ arguments against emancipation can be found in the letters written on the subject by the Queen’s uncle, the Duke of Cumberland—now King of Hanover. In part, he shared the episcopal view that “the idea of admitting persons who deny the existence of our Saviour” was “horrible.” But his anxieties were partly social in nature, predicting that “the whole of the riches of the country would by degrees come into the hands of the Jews, manufacturers and calico-makers,“ and citing the example of Amschel’s entertainments in Frankfurt to illustrate Jewish social pretensions. He knew whereof he spoke, having dined at Hannah’s just a few years before. There was not a great deal to choose between this two-faced snobbery and the crude caricatures published on the subject during the period. One of the benefits of the Jewish emancipation depicted an old clothes-dealer bringing home a sucking pig to his wife and exclaiming: ”Dare mine dear, see vot I’ve pought you! tanks to de Paron Roast-child & de Pill“ (see illustration l.ii).