Lord George Bentinck Part 8

His acute research, and his peculiar sources of information, roused the vigilance of all the public offices of the country. Since his time, there has been more care in preparing official returns, and in arranging the public correspondence placed on the table of the House of Commons.

When one remembered that in this room, not three years ago, he was trying to find a lawyer who would make a speech for him in Parliament, it was curious to remember that no one in the period had probably addressed the House of Commons oftener. Though his manner, which was daily improving, was not felicitous in the House, the authority of his intellect, his knowledge, and his character, made him one of the great personages of debate; but with the country who only read his speeches he ranked high as an orator. It is only those who have had occasion critically to read and examine the long series of his speeches who can be conscious of their considerable merits. The information is always full and often fresh, the scope large, the argument close, and the style, though simple, never bald, but vigorous, idiomatic, and often picturesque. He had not credit for this in his day, but the pa.s.sages which have been quoted in this sketch will prove the justness of this criticism. As a speaker and writer, his princ.i.p.al need was condensation.

He could not bear that anything should remain untold. He was deficient in taste, but he had fervour of feeling, and was by no means void of imagination.

The writer, in his frequent communications with him of faithful and unbounded confidence, was often reminded of the character by Mr. Burke of my Lord Keppell.

The labours of Lord George Bentinck had been supernatural, and one ought perhaps to have felt then that it was impossible they could be continued on such a scale of exhaustion; but no friend could control his eager life in this respect; he obeyed the law of his vehement and fiery nature, being one of those men who in whatever they undertake know no medium, but will 'succeed or die.'

But why talk here and now of death! He goes to his native county and his father's proud domain, to breathe the air of his boyhood and move amid the parks and meads of his youth. Every breeze will bear health, and the sight of every hallowed haunt will stimulate his pulse. He is scarcely older than Julius Caesar when he commenced his public career, he looks as high and brave, and he springs from a long-lived race.

He stood upon the _perron_ of Harcourt House, the last of the great hotels of an age of stately dwellings with its wings, and court-yard, and carriage portal, and huge outward walls. He put forth his hand to bid farewell, and his last words were characteristic of the man--of his warm feelings and of his ruling pa.s.sion: 'G.o.d bless you; we must work, and the country will come round us.'

CHAPTER XIII.

_The Curtain Falls_

THE heavens darken; a new character enters upon the scene.

They say that when great men arise they have a mission to accomplish and do not disappear until it is fulfilled. Yet this is not always true.

After all his deep study and his daring action Mr. Hampden died on an obscure field, almost before the commencement of that mighty struggle which he seemed born to direct. In the great contention between the patriotic and the cosmopolitan principle which has hardly begun, and on the issue of which the fate of this island as a powerful community depends, Lord George Ben-tinck appeared to be produced to represent the traditionary influences of our country in their most captivating form.

Born a natural leader of the people, he was equal to the post. Free from prejudices, his large mind sympathized with all cla.s.ses of the realm.

His courage and his constancy were never surpa.s.sed by man. He valued life only as a means of fulfilling duty, and truly it may be said of him, that he feared none but G.o.d.

A few days after the interview noticed in the last chapter, Lord George Bentinck returned to Welbeck. Some there were who thought him worn by the exertions of the session, and that an unusual pallor had settled upon that mantling and animated countenance. He himself never felt in better health or was ever in higher spirits, and greatly enjoyed the change of life, and that change to a scene so dear to him.

On the 21 st of September, after breakfasting with his family, he retired to his room, where he employed himself With some papers, and then wrote three letters, one to Lord Enfield, another to the Duke of Richmond, and the third to the writer of these pages. That letter is now at hand; it is of considerable length, consisting of seven sheets of note-paper, full of interesting details of men and things, and written not only in a cheerful but even a merry mood. Then, when his letters were sealed, about four o'clock he took his staff and went forth to walk to Th.o.r.esby, the seat of Lord Manvers, distant between five and six miles from Welbeck, where Lord George was to make a visit of two days.

In consequence of this his valet drove over to Th.o.r.esby at the same time to meet his master. But the master never came. Hours pa.s.sed on and the master never came. At length the anxious servant returned to Welbeck, and called up the groom who had driven him over to Th.o.r.esby and who was in bed, and inquired whether he had seen anything of Lord George on the way back, as his lord had never reached Th.o.r.esby. The groom got up, and accompanied by the valet and two others took lanthorns, and followed the footpath which they had seen Lord George pursuing as they themselves went to Th.o.r.esby.

About a mile from the Abbey, on the path which they had observed him following, lying close to the gate which separates a water meadow from the deer-park, they found the body of Lord George Bentinck. He was lying on his face; his arms were under his body, and in one hand he grasped his walking-stick. His hat was a yard or two before him, having evidently been thrown off in falling. The body was cold and stiff. He had been long dead.

A woodman and some peasants pa.s.sing near the spot, about two hundred yards from the gate in question, had observed Lord George, whom at the distance they had mistaken for his brother the Marquis of t.i.tchfield, leaning against this gate. It was then about half-past four o'clock, or it might be a quarter to five, so he could not have left his home much more than half an hour. The woodman and his companions thought 'the gentleman' was reading, as he held his head down. One of them lingered for a minute looking at the gentleman, who then turned round, and might have seen these pa.s.sers-by, but he made no sign to them.

Thus it seems that the attack, which was supposed to be a spasm of the heart, was not instantaneous in its effects, but with proper remedies might have been baffled. Terrible to think of him in his death-struggle without aid, and so near a devoted hearth! For that hearth, too, what an impending future!

The terrible news reached Nottingham on the morning of the 22nd, at half-past nine o'clock, and, immediately telegraphed to London, was announced by a second edition of the 'Times' to the country.

Consternation and deep grief fell upon all men. One week later, the remains arrived from Welbeck at Harcourt House, to be entombed in the family vault of the Bentincks, that is to be found in a small building in a dingy street, now a chapel of ease, but in old days the parish church among the fields of the pretty village of Marylebone.

The day of interment was dark, and cold, and drizzling. Although the last offices were performed in the most scrupulously private manner, the feelings of the community could not be repressed. From nine till eleven o'clock that day all the British shipping in the docks and the river, from London Bridge to Gravesend, hoisted their flags half-mast high, and minute guns were fired from appointed stations along the Thames.

The same mournful ceremony was observed in all the ports of England and Ireland; and not only in these, for the flag was half-mast high on every British ship at Antwerp, at Rotterdam, and at Havre.

Ere the last minute gun sounded, all was over. Followed to his tomb by those brothers who, if not consoled, might at this moment be sustained by the remembrance that to him they had ever been brothers not only in name but in spirit, the vault at length closed on the mortal remains of _George Bentinck_.

One who stood by his side in an arduous and unequal struggle, who often shared his councils and sometimes perhaps soothed his cares, who knew well the greatness of his nature and esteemed his friendship among the chief of worldly blessings, has stepped aside from the strife and pa.s.sion of public life to draw up this record of his deeds and thoughts, that those who come after us may form some conception of his character and career, and trace in these faithful though imperfect pages the portraiture of an _English Worthy_.