Modern History
Posts in The Copybook tagged ‘Modern History’
Amid all the confusion of the Battle of Waterloo, the Duke of Wellington spotted a man in civilian clothes riding busily around on a stocky horse.
Benjamin Haydon was a respected nineteenth-century English artist and teacher, but his career was a constant struggle, blighted by debt and (in his eyes) betrayal. He died at his own hand in 1846. Haydon left behind a diary in which he recorded an anecdote set against the background of the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, on the authority of the Duke of Wellington himself.
Two of the Victorian Age’s most distinguished historians locked horns over the question of whether historians should be nice.
In 1887, historian Mandell Creighton published the third volume of his monumental study of the Papacy. Fellow historian Lord Acton, a Roman Catholic troubled by the recent declaration of Papal Infallibility, criticised him for being too soft on the crimes of the Popes: the historian who easily excuses the tyrants of the past, he warned, may also hire himself out to excuse the tyrants of the present.
When the young Aga Khan visited London in 1898 he was presented to Queen Victoria, and found her cultural sensitivity deeply touching.
In February 1898 the Aga Khan, then twenty, left Bombay for Europe. After some days enjoying life on the French Riviera he travelled on to Paris and London, and there in the glorious and bewitching Imperial capital he was presented at Windsor Castle to Queen Victoria herself. It was an intimate affair: only himself, his friend the Duke of Connaught and the Empress, now approaching her eightieth birthday.
At the Berlin Congress of Powers in 1878, the draft of the Prime Minister’s keynote speech had his anxious aides scuttling about like ants.
On July 13th, 1878, statesmen gathered in Berlin for a Congress of Powers amid high tensions. The Germans had recently invaded France, Russia was demanding Turkey respect the rights of Christians and Turkey was stoking British fears that Russia meant to invade India. Much rested on the tact of Britain’s Prime Minister, Lord Beaconsfield — which was just what his aides were afraid of.
Harry Paulet was going about his unlawful business when he spotted a French fleet slip quietly out of Brest and into the Atlantic.
Three years into the Seven Years’ War of 1756-63, the Kingdom of France was building up pressure on Britain’s beleaguered North American colonies. Despite a bruising setback at Lagos in August, the French still had hopes of an invasion of Scotland, and by November 14th a fleet was ready to sail; but the story goes that the tides of history were turned by Harry Paulet, a cross-Channel smuggler.
Sir Edward and Lady Pellew were on their way to a dinner engagement one stormy day, when their carriage was caught up in tragedy at sea.
Edward Pellew (1757-1833), 1st Viscount Exmouth, served in the Royal Navy for fifty years, rising to the rank of Admiral and playing a leading role in the American Revolutionary War, the French Revolutionary Wars and the Napoleonic Wars. He is remembered for several acts of courage, such as the occasion when he rescued some five hundred passengers from a wreck off Plymouth Hoe during a violent storm.