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
