PEMBROKE LODGE, _July_ 10

John writes that he saw Lord Palmerston and told him that he had thought the Austrian proposals ought to be accepted at the time; but that he did not think they ought now, after the late events of the war. He proposed resignation if it would help the Government.

Lord Palmerston of course begged him to remain, which he will do.

The subject is more painful to me the more I think of it.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _July_ 12

An anxious parting with John. He was to go straight to Lord Clarendon, to find out what portion of the dispatches Lord Clarendon was prepared to give. His explanation to be made to-night of a sentence in his Friday's speech, by which some of his colleagues understood him to declare his opinion to be that he thought the Austrian proposal ought _now_ to be accepted. He did _not_ say so, and such an explanation is much to be lamented. His position is very painful, and my thoughts about him more so than they have ever been, because now many of his best and truest friends grieve and are disappointed. G.o.d grant he may have life, strength, and spirit to work on for his country till he has risen again higher than ever in her trust, esteem, and love.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _July_ 13

A very anxious morning, thinking of my dear and n.o.ble husband, doomed to suffer so much for no greater fault than having committed himself too far without consultation with his colleagues to a scheme which higher duties persuaded him not to abide by when he failed to convince them. Anxiety to know his determination and the state of his spirits made me send a note up to town early, to which I received his answer about four, that he had written his resignation last night and sent it to Lord Palmerston this morning.

_Lady John to Lord John Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _July_ 13, 1855

We are all well, but I am too anxious to be all day without hearing from you; besides, and chiefly, I want to cheer you up and beseech you not to let all this depress you more than it ought. Don't believe the _Daily News_ when it says you have committed political suicide--that need not be a bit more true than that there was _trickiness_ or _treachery_ in your course, which it also a.s.serts. Depend upon it, it is in your power and it is therefore your duty to show that you can still be yourself. You will rise again higher than ever if you will but think you can--if you will but avoid for the future the rocks on which you have sometimes split. There is plenty to do for your country, plenty that you can do better than any other man, and _you must not sink._ You made, I believe, a great mistake in surrendering your own judgment to that of those who surrounded you at Vienna; but who can dare to say you were favouring any interest of your own, or what malice or ingenuity can pretend to find the shadow of a low or unworthy motive? Remember Moore's lines:

"Never dream for a moment thy country can spare Such a light from her darkening horizon as thou."

As to your immediate course, what have you resolved? Surely your own resignation is the most natural--you might persuade your colleagues, if they require persuasion, to let you go alone, as you alone are responsible, that you think a change of Ministry would be a misfortune, and that you would be unhappy to find that added to your responsibility.... The feeling that the Ministry may be sacrificed to you is a very painful one, and I earnestly hope your wisdom may find some means of averting this.... Now, my dearest, farewell--would that I could go to you myself. I am told that the expectation of the Whips is that you will be beat. Tell me as much as you can and G.o.d speed you.... Good-bye, and above all keep up a good heart for your country's sake and mine.

Lord Palmerston replied to his offer to resign in the following terms [48]:

PICCADILLY, _July_ 13, 1855

MY DEAR LORD JOHN,--I have received, I need not say with how much regret, your letter of this morning, and have sent it down to the Queen. But, whatever pain I may feel at the step you have taken, I must nevertheless own that as a public man, whose standing and position are matters of public interest and public property, you have judged rightly. The storm is too strong at this moment to be resisted, and an attempt to withstand it would, while unsuccessful, only increase irritation. But juster feelings will in due time prevail. In the meantime I must thank you for the very friendly and handsome terms in which you have announced to me your determination.

Yours sincerely, PALMERSTON

[48] Spencer Walpole's "Life of Lord John Russell."

PEMBROKE LODGE, _July_ 15, 1855

John and I agreed that we felt almost unaccountably happy--there is, however, much to account for it--much that cannot be taken from us.

_Lady John Russell to the Duke of Bedford_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _July_ 16, 1855

MY DEAR DUKE,--You will like to hear how John has borne his new trouble, and I am very glad to tell you that he is in good spirits, and as calm as a clear conscience can make him. The week before his resignation was a very anxious one, reminding me of that sad and anxious day at Woburn when he determined to dismiss Lord Palmerston, and of that other when he resolved not to speak to any of his colleagues before sending his resignation to Lord Aberdeen.

Those occasions were so far like this that it was impossible even for me, though unable to judge of the questions politically, not to foresee painful consequences in the altered relations of old friends, and therefore not to lament his decisions; though he had, as he was sure to have, high and generous reasons in both cases.

Here again, there has been much to lament in all that led to his resignation and fresh separation from many with whom he has acted during half his political life, many so highly valued in public and private. One cannot but feel all this, nor do I pretend indifference to what is said of him, for I do think the next best thing to deserving "spotless reputation" is possessing it. But there are many comforts--first and foremost, a faith in him that nothing can shake; then a firm hope that the country will one day understand him better--besides, the relief was immense of finding that he would be allowed to resign without breaking up the Government. In short, we agreed yesterday that after all our pains and anxieties we both felt strangely and almost unaccountably happy. Of course, seeing him so was enough to make me so, and perhaps there is something too in the unexpected freedom of body and soul which loss of office has given him. This state of mind, in which he has just left me for London, gives me good hope that he will get well through his hard task to-night....

Ever yours affectionately,

f.a.n.n.y RUSSELL

_Lady John Russell to Lord Minto_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _July_ 18, 1855

MY DEAREST PAPA,--I feel very guilty in not having written to you since all these great events occurred, but you are pretty well able to guess what I felt about them ... and the newspapers are much better chroniclers of facts, though not of motives, than I can be.... Of course, he proposed resignation immediately after he had made his speech, but it was not then thought the Ministry would be beat on Bulwer's motion, and Lord Palmerston and the rest begged him to remain. Very soon, however, there was no doubt left as to what would be the result of the motion, and as neither John nor Doddy, the only other person I saw, had a hope that any fresh resignation would be accepted, we had the painful prospect of the destruction of the Ministry by his means.... But the surprise was great as the relief when we found that not one man had the slightest difficulty in making up his mind, ... and that one and all felt it a paramount duty "not to shrink from the toils and responsibilities of office." ... His _spirits_ have not sunk and his _spirit_ has risen, and the feeling uppermost in his mind is thankfulness that he is out of it all, and has regained his freedom, body and soul.... There is plenty left for him to do, and I trust he will do it as an independent member of Parliament, and in that position regain his lost influence with the country. I am most anxious he should not think his political life at an end, though his official life may go forever without a sigh.... I ought to add that he is on perfectly friendly terms with all his late colleagues, ... anxious to help them when he can, but pledged to nothing....

Ever, dearest Papa,

Your affectionate child,

F.R.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _July_ 23, 1855

Thunderstorm during which I sat in the Windsor summer-house writing and thinking many sad thoughts; chiefly of my own ill-performance of many duties on which my whole heart and soul were bent. Had I but known when we married as much of the world as I know now, though I should have been far, far less happy, I should have done better in many ways.... Came in; went to my room with Georgy and took Baby on my lap. Baby looked at me, saw I had been sad, and said gravely, "Poor Mama," adding immediately, "Where is Papa?" as if she thought my sadness must have to do with him. On my answering, "He is gone to London," she put her dear little arms round my neck and kissed and coaxed me, repeating over and over, "Never mind, never mind, my dear Mama," and again, "Never mind, my poor Mama."

The state of Lady John's health prevented her from leaving home, but Lord John left Pembroke Lodge with two of the children on August 9th, for a much needed holiday in Scotland.

_Lord John to Lady John Russell_

EDINBURGH, _August_ 10, 1855

We got here safely yesterday an hour after time, which made about fourteen hours from Pembroke Lodge.... Dearest, it is a very melancholy journey; without you to comfort me I take a very gloomy view of everything; but I hope the Highland air will refresh me with its briskness.... I have a letter from Lord Minto, disturbed at my not coming sooner, and supposing I shall be abused for my Italian speech, in which he is quite right; but I may save some poor devil by my denunciation of his persecutors.

_Lady John to Lord John Russell_

PEMBROKE LODGE, _August_ 12, 1855

It grieves me to have to write what will grieve you, but it would be wrong and useless to hide it from you--I was taken ill suddenly yesterday.... What I bear least well is the thought of you. I did so hope that after all your political troubles you might be spared anxieties of a worse kind; but it was not to be.... I hope, dearest, you will not hurry home immediately. I should be so sorry to think you only had the fatigue of two long journeys, instead of some weeks of Highland air. I know how sadly your enjoyment will be damaged, but do not--I beg you, dearest--do not let your spirits sink. Nothing would make your poor old wife so sad. Georgy is the best and dearest of children and nurses; I am so sorry for her.

Yesterday she was quite upset, far more than I was, but to-day she has taken heart. G.o.d bless you. Think what happy people we still are--happy far beyond the common lot--in one another and all our darlings.

When Lord John heard of her illness, he wrote that he could not be a moment easy away from her, and came home at once.

PEMBROKE LODGE, _September_ 8, 1855

Thank G.o.d! though in bed, I have generally been able to read and talk, and for the last two days have given Johnny and the little boys their lessons.... Cannot but hope I am a little less impatient of illness, a little less unreasonably sorry to be debarred from air and liberty and all I care for most in this world, than I used to be.... I pray with my whole heart for the true faith and patience that can never fail. I pray that, since I cannot teach my children how to _do,_ I may teach them how to _bear,_ so that even in illness I may not be wholly useless to them.

CHAPTER IX

1855-60