CHAPTER I

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SOCIAL TRANSFORMATIONS OF THE VICTORIAN AGE

A Survey of Court and Country

by

T. H. S. ESCOTT

_Author of 'England, its People, Polity

and Pursuits,' &c., &c._

New York

Charles Scribner's Sons

153-157 Fifth Avenue

1897

_PREFACE_

It may be well very briefly to explain the relation in which the present

work stands to a survey, not a history, of modern England undertaken by

the same author some years ago. That earlier work was originally published

by Messrs Cassell and Co. in two volumes. It was reprinted, first by them,

secondly by Messrs Chapman and Hall, in a single volume. Into that

re-issue of his _England: Its People, Polity, and Pursuits_ (the labour of

revision being much lightened by the obliging help of Mr Francis

Drummond), the author introduced certain references to social or

legislative changes effected since the original edition of the work

appeared. Without organic disturbance of its plan, and risk of consequent

confusion to the reader, it would have been impossible to bring down that

book to the year 1897. The writer does not in the following pages

pre-suppose any knowledge of his former book on the part of the readers of

his present one. He has, however, held himself absolved from the duty of

repeating in this book minute accounts of institutions fully described in

its predecessor. Such repetition seemed the more undesirable because the

earlier book is still in wide circulation here; while it has been

translated into several European languages, and has been adopted as a text

book in the higher grade State schools of Germany,[1] and of other

countries. The method of workmanship adopted in _Social Transformations of

the Victorian Age_ is identical with that pursued in the case of _England,

Etc._

This new book being, like its predecessor, not a history, but a series of

different views from a common standpoint, the sketches of national life

and character as well as of national institutions at work, have in all

cases been made from personal observation; supplemented by the assistance

of the highest experts in their different departments to whom the writer

had access. Often, he is glad to say, the same private friends who helped

him in the seventies have been able to renew that help in the nineties.

Thus, Sir Charles Dilke, Sir Robert Herbert, Mr Mundella, Mr Archibald

Milman of the House of Commons, and Mr Albert Pell have generally and

specifically repeated the assistance lent to him twenty years earlier. In

most cases it is hoped the assistance given has been acknowledged in its

proper place. In many cases the advantages of this service extend beyond

any particular passage. In all which relates to the new schemes of local

government the writer is particularly indebted to Mr Henry Chaplin or

members of his staff; to Sir Henry Fowler; to Sir Charles Dilke; to the

Rev. J. Charles Cox, LL.D., of Holdenby, as in ecclesiastical matters to

the Rev. A. L. Foulkes of Steventon, and to the Rev. H. W. Tucker, D.D.,

of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. In references to

certain phases of social history, especially about the early railway

period, he has learned much from Lord Carlingford, Mr Markham Spofforth,

Mr J. C. Parkinson, and from Sir W. H. Russell. And finally he would

specially thank several gentlemen of the Education Department, as well as

the Vice-President himself, Sir John Gorst. It is hoped that, as in the

case of the writer's _England_, so in that of his new book, the

collaboration of those who are, in their different provinces, experts, has

ensured a more uniform accuracy than in a volume dealing with such a

variety of subjects would otherwise have been attainable.

T. H. S. E.

_CONTENTS_

PAGE

CHAPTER I

TWO EPOCHS OF VICTORIAN SOCIETY CONTRASTED, 1

CHAPTER II

THE NEW WEALTH, 13

CHAPTER III

TRANSFORMATION BY STEAM, 27

CHAPTER IV

THE ARISTOCRACY OF WEALTH AND ITS MANIFESTATIONS, 39

CHAPTER V

THE RICH MEN FROM THE EAST, 53

CHAPTER VI

SOCIAL CITIZENSHIP AS A MORAL GROWTH OF VICTORIAN ENGLAND, 67

CHAPTER VII

THE NEW ERA IN ENGLISH PARISHES, 77

CHAPTER VIII

THE NEW ERA IN ENGLISH COUNTIES, 92

CHAPTER IX

COUNTY COUNCILS AND CLASS FUSION, 103

CHAPTER X

THE SOCIAL FUSING AND ORGANIZING OF THE TWO NATIONS

OF 'SIBYL,' 115

CHAPTER XI

FROM AN UNTAUGHT GENERATION TO FREE SCHOOLS, 132

CHAPTER XII

THE LADDER OF EDUCATION, 151

CHAPTER XIII

THE GREAT PUBLIC SCHOOLS AS MIRRORS OF THE AGE, 168

CHAPTER XIV

THE NEW OXFORD AND CAMBRIDGE, 179

CHAPTER XV

FROM THE OLD SOCIAL ORDER TO THE NEW, 193

CHAPTER XVI

'THE PLAY'S THE THING,' 206

CHAPTER XVII

THE STRANGER WITHIN OUR GATES AND OUR OWN TEEMING

MILLIONS, 220

CHAPTER XVIII

THE HOUSE OF COMMONS AS A LANDMARK OF POLITICAL

PROGRESS UNDER QUEEN VICTORIA, 238

CHAPTER XIX

CROWN, COUNTRY AND COMMONS, 259

CHAPTER XX

ROYALTY AS A SOCIAL FORCE, 274

CHAPTER XXI

CROWN AND SWORD, 290

CHAPTER XXII

FROM WOODEN WALLS TO FLOATING ENGINES, 311

CHAPTER XXIII

TRANSFORMATIONS OF VICTORIAN SCIENCE, 320

CHAPTER XXIV

CECILIA'S TRIUMPHS, 337

CHAPTER XXV

TRANSFORMED AND TRANSFORMING ART, 349

CHAPTER XXVI

POPULAR CULTURE IN THE CRUCIBLE, 362

CHAPTER XXVII

NEWSPAPER PRESS TRANSFORMATION SCENES, 380

CHAPTER XXVIII

TRANSFORMATIONS IN INVALID LIFE, 388

CHAPTER XXIX

TRANSFORMATIONS OF RELIGIOUS THOUGHT, 398

CHAPTER XXX

THE QUEEN'S SUBJECTS AT PLAY--ACTIVE OR SEDENTARY, 408

CHAPTER XXXI

THE REIGN OF LAW AND ITS TRANSFORMATIONS:--HOME AND

COLONIAL, 422

INDEX 439

Social Transformations

CHAPTER I

TWO EPOCHS OF VICTORIAN SOCIETY CONTRASTED

Difference between English society in the earlier and later years of

the Queen's reign illustrated from the composition of Hyde Park

crowds, first, when the Park was a playground for the Royal children,

and a parade ground for social celebrities, secondly, as it has become

since. Different generations of Victorian Royalty. Great noblemen,

Lord Lansdowne, Lord Eglinton, Lord Shrewsbury, Lord Shaftesbury, The

Duke of Wellington. Statesmen, Earl Grey, Sir Robert Peel. Other

celebrities, social, or intellectual, or literary. The dandies, some

of them sketched by Thackeray, Morgan O'Connell, the original of 'The

O'Mulligan,' Alfred Montgomery, Alexis Soyer, Lord Adolphus

Fitzclarence, 1848-51. Tall forms of Thackeray and Jacob Omnium

overtopping the crowd. The editor of the _Times_, J. T. Delane, on

horseback. The absence in later days of eminent individuals like

these; the old editor and the new. A. W. Kinglake among the last

riders in Hyde Park of veterans who write. Commerce in the Park and in

society represented by 'King' Hudson before and after his fall. Lord

Tollemache, of Peckforton, the last of great nobles familiar to

English crowds.

As it is to-day, so, during the earlier years of the present reign, both

before and after the Great Exhibition of 1851, Hyde Park was the social

parade ground, not only of the capital, but of the Kingdom. Then, as now,

its human panorama was the representative reflection of the social

conditions not less than of the typical personages of the era.

Throughout the later forties or the fifties, the loungers from the

provinces were certainly not less numerous in Hyde Park than to-day.

Foreign visitors were beginning to be a feature in the Metropolitan

summer. But the scale on which the London season half a century ago was

observed was so small as to resemble but faintly its successors known to

the present generation. Society scarcely exceeded the dimensions of a

family party. Hyde Park itself seemed a Royal pleasure ground first, a

popular resort afterwards, to which strangers were, as to the Park at

Windsor, admitted by favour of the first Constitutional Sovereign, to

behold the pastimes of the rising generations of Royalty. The little boy

and girl, steering their ponies through the maze of carriages, horses, or

pedestrians, were the Prince of Wales and the Princess Royal. Observers

noted with appreciative criticism the progress made from day to day by the

young riders. Other of the Queen's descendants of age still more tender,

followed with their parents in an open carriage, the exact build of which

had been introduced by the Prince Consort, and were manifestly being

instructed by their father or mother in the art of acknowledging

gracefully the respectful salutations of spectators.

The company crowding the Park, and most familiar to London onlookers

differed from the crowds of succeeding decades, first, in the monotony of

its composition, secondly, in the commanding ascendancy of some among the

individuals whom it numbered. This was a kind of feudal age in our social

development. The monarch was surrounded by subjects, the splendour of

whose station, or the lustre of whose endowments caused them to shine

forth in their exalted firmament, with a light of their own not reflected

by, though comparable with, that of Royalty itself. Two noblemen, during

the first quarter of a century of the Queen's reign, one Scotch, the other

English, seemed to eclipse the rest of the peerage. The Earl of Eglinton,

of the period now referred to, was famous, even among Englishmen, from the

tournament held some years earlier in 1839 at Eglinton Castle, and

described by Mr Disraeli in his last novel, _Endymion_. The lady who had

been the Queen of Beauty upon the occasion, the Duchess of Somerset, was

then a synonym for all which women envy or men admire. When she appeared

in Hyde Park, the crowd gazed at her carriage with the awed admiration

that they bestowed on those born to thrones. North of the Tweed, Lord

Eglinton summed up to his adoring countrymen, in his own person, all the

influence, the dignity, the splendour, the power, and all the other

attributes of greatness with which the principle of birth could be

endowed. What Lord Eglinton was in Scotland, or to the natives of Scotland

in London, Lord Lansdowne[2] had long been to all classes of Englishmen,

not more in his native county than in London. Here, during the earlier

Victorian seasons, he was conspicuous in Hyde Park, generally by his

perfect demeanour of high breeding, specially by this blue coat and

voluminous white neck investment. After him, slowly riding on a horse

whose familiarity can best be expressed to readers of to-day by comparing

it with that sometime attained by the white cob of Mr Lowe, Lord

Sherbrooke, there appeared, in the blue coat and white trousers of the old

regime, the figure before whom all heads instinctively uncovered, the

great Duke of Wellington. On horseback, also, were two other men, second

only in eminence to the Duke himself, Lord Palmerston, and Sir Robert

Peel. The first still wore his years lightly and was as much at home in

the saddle as in the House of Commons. Sir Robert Peel, still a remarkably

handsome man, had the enthusiasm of the equestrian. Those who can recall

the loose connection between Bishop Samuel Wilberforce and the steed which

he bestrode, can form an idea of the 'seat' of the great Sir Robert.

Next to the representatives of the reigning family and to the statesmen

who were the props of the young Queen's throne, the attention of the Hyde

Park crowd was fixed upon a little group of gentlemen, remarkable for the

perfection of their toilettes, and for the special attention manifestly

bestowed upon their hair, not as to-day cut down to the scalp, but falling

gracefully over the white collar. These were the dandies. The last of the

tribe has not long passed away. But as a race they have left no

successors. The late Mr Alfred Montgomery had for his associates Count

Alfred D'Orsay, whose Christian name was perpetuated by a dandies' club.

'The Alfred' flourished in Albemarle Street till a decade or two since.

Its founder survived till the nineties, Alexis Soyer, high priest of the

mysteries of the fine art of cookery as well as the original of

Thackeray's 'Mirobolant' in _Pendennis_. Others who sat for their

portraits to the novelist were well known in the fashionable section of

the Hyde Park crowd. Morgan John O'Connell, a leader of dandies, was of

course there. There, too, was that other O'Connell, known by his friends

as Lord Kilmarlcock, from whom Thackeray never denied that he had taken

the traits of The O'Mulligan. Possibly, too, there might have been seen

here Mr Arcedeckne, whom the same novelist has immortalised in 'Harry

Foker,' and who thus early in the Victorian era prefigured the social

friendship since grown more common between the gentlemen who live to

labour, and their comrades who live to enjoy. Still more noticeable among

the Hyde Park loungers on foot, standing not far from D'Orsay and

Montgomery were the two inseparables, the then Sir George Wombwell and

Lord Adolphus, better known as 'Dolly,' Fitzclarence, the latter curiously

like Lawrence's picture of George IV.

The editor of the _Times_, J. T. Delane, scarcely less powerful in the

social and political system than in his own office, would have been

mistaken, by those who did not know him personally, for the plain country

gentleman whose life he liked to lead. His square, neatly compacted

figure, with cleanly shaven upper lip, and penetrating, but pleasant,

expression of eyes, was among the last to enter and to leave the Park. Not

less well known to most Londoners and to many provincials were two of Mr

Delane's literary friends, though not both of them wrote for his paper.

One of these was Thackeray, towering above all the smaller men. The other

was tall Thackeray's taller friend known to his contemporaries as 'Big'

Higgins, still better known to the public at large as Jacob Omnium. The

two were generally to be found together. The eyes of all passengers were

strained, and their tongues silenced as these two tall lumbering figures

manoeuvred slowly up or down the Row; not so much ridden in then as it was

afterwards.

But neither the intellectual workers, nor the social butterflies attracted

more attention than a middle-aged, rather over-dressed lady in a very

gorgeous carriage, which might have become a Lord Mayor, and a big, heavy

man, with drab-coloured, wiry hair, who sometimes sat beside her. The

chariot and its occupants seemed to interest the country visitors in the

Park more than did the distinguished persons already mentioned. The

gentleman was George Hudson, the 'railway King,' who had not only made a

fortune himself, but had been the cause of many others rolling in wealth

scarcely less than his own. Within a few years he was still visible in the

same enclosure, not, however, in the gaudy equipage, but as a pedestrian.

The crash, in fact, had come. King Hudson had fallen on evil days. But

having dragged none down in his descent, nor disclosed any secrets of the

prison house, he kept friends who helped him in his adversity. The house

at Knightsbridge, which is now the French Embassy, knew of course Hudson

no more. Its fashionable assemblages since it became a diplomatic

residence cannot have been more brilliant than those which met there when

Hudson was its master. Nor, indeed, has its social splendour since been

eclipsed by any of those more recent hosts whom commercial success has

incorporated among the sons and daughters of fashion. Hudson's dinner

table, or Mrs Hudson's reception room, were graced, habitually by the

great Duke of Wellington, by the Duke of Cambridge, and occasionally by

other Princes of the blood Royal. Nor, during his decline, did Hudson fail

to carry himself with good humour, and even dignity. His simple, harmless,

almost pathetic vanity had perhaps combined with his shrewd Yorkshire

common sense to support him under his adversities. A sum which realised

L600 a year had been subscribed for him, the trustees of his annuity being

Sir George Elliot, and Mr Hugh Taylor. His wife and his sons were alive.

But he preferred living in a solitary lodging in London. His freedom from

all anxiety made this season of eclipse, he protested, the happiest time

of his life. A courteous recognition from the great Lord Grey in the Park,

or the kindly concession to him of the chair which he had occupied, in

other years, in the smoking room of the Carlton, shed something more than

a transitory gleam of comfort upon his darkened fortunes, and were recited

by the old man with his north country burr to the friends with whom, to

the last, he used to dine. Like another fallen star of a different system,

in an earlier age, Beau Brummell, Hudson passed several years of his

eclipse at a hotel in Calais, where he was visited by more friends than

had ever looked in upon the great dandy of the Georgian epoch during the

twilight hours of his life.

Such, then, were the chief among the more representative figures to be met

with on the brightest and most varied of the social parade grounds of the

capital during the earlier years of the Victorian epoch.

No single element conspicuous in the Hyde Park of the later years of the

Victorian era was absent from that earlier crowd at whose composition we

have glanced. The social prominence of English plutocracy whether

represented by the great money brokers, whom, Anglo-Saxon or Teutonic,

Piccadilly has always known, or by Yorkshire Hudson, whom it knew fitfully

during the short spell of his splendour, has been, from Elizabethan or

still earlier times, a feature and a force in the social economy of the

town. That which, seen between the Magazine and Apsley House, would have

most surprised Hyde Park loungers in the early Victorian days, had they

been able to lift the curtain of the future, is not the fact of the best

coaches of the Four in Hand Club being owned by men whose names have no

English sound, and whose taste for horseflesh is not hereditary; but

rather the vogue now attained by prevailing bicycles. Even here, perhaps,

one ought rather to recognize the reintroduction of a fashion whose idea

is as old as the hobby horse itself than a mode as indisputably modern as

the safety wheel or the pneumatic tyre.

The Princes and Princesses who once rode their ponies between Albert and

Stanhope Gates are now bearing a part in the government of Empires, but

are seldom for long unrepresented in the moving and glittering throng.

The 'city' in the Row is not a novelty. The Church began with Archbishop

Tait to be more prominently represented than was ever known before. The

most emancipated of bygone occupants of Lambeth would scarcely have looked

forward to the time when a cavalcade composed of archiepiscopal children,

led by a Primate himself in the van, with his Chaplain bringing up the

rear, would canter to and fro along the Row. Hyde Park is not to-day

visited by early water drinkers who believe in the virtues of the probably

forgotten spring in Kensington Gardens hard by. But not many hours after

dawn, the novelty, as to early Victorian observers it would have seemed,

may be witnessed of ladies and gentlemen issuing in bands from their

Tyburnian or Kensingtonian homes to gain an appetite for breakfast, and a

store of fresh air for the day's confinement, by making at least once the

circuit of the Park while the roads are at their emptiest, and the

dewdrops still glisten on the flowers.

Something else than the extended popularity of London's most serviceable

'lung' is suggested by the contrast between Hyde Park as it is now, and as

it was three or four decades since. The dandies are not the only feature

in the social landscape one looks for in vain. The commanding

personalities of individuals of either sex which seemed common on every

social plane thirty or forty years since have largely disappeared now. The

levelling influences of a democratic epoch have reduced to a uniformity of

unheroic proportions those who represent in our public places the

interests, the occupations, the achievements, or the society of their day.

It is called a prosaic age. It is certainly, as compared with its

predecessors, a lilliputian one. At the very zenith of his power, Mr

Gladstone in the streets or parks of London, never fixed the attention of

the crowd to the same degree as his political master, the great Sir Robert

Peel. The adroit, accomplished, and singularly successful soldier, who,

since the Duke of Cambridge's retirement, has been Commander-in-Chief,

resembles the Duke of Wellington in stature. Neither Lord Wolseley, nor

any of his contemporaries, compels as yet from street crowds the mute

veneration and awe which the simple fact of his unrivalled pre-eminence as

a subject secured for the Duke of Wellington whenever he set foot in

Piccadilly, or turned his horse's head in the direction of the Horse

Guards down Constitution Hill.

Outside the Royal Family there is no great lady who like an earlier Lady

Jersey is greeted as a queen by crowds to which she can only be a name. In

the same way, the average of efficiency in journalism was never so high as

at present, nor the editing as well as the writing and compiling of

newspapers ever more competently performed. The editor, however, of the

stamp of John Thaddeus Delane does not, nor by the circumstances of the

time could, any longer exist. The responsible head of a great newspaper

office has necessarily become less a creator of public opinion, less even

of an interpreter, which Delane signally was, of middle class English

thought, than the custodian of a commercial interest, the vicegerent of a

proprietor who regards the journal, first, as a great organ of public

opinion; secondly, as the instrument for achieving his own patriotic

purposes in his own way. While Delane was yet living, the able conductor

of another great daily journal was ambitious to fill a place like Delane's

in the social and political system. It was a sad mistake. In journalism,

more than anywhere else, as this gentleman ought to have known, given the

requisite capacity which he undoubtedly had, a man may exercise almost any

power he likes on condition that he himself remains in the background, and

neither in jest nor earnest magnifies his apostleship too much. The

consequence was, in the particular case now spoken of, that after some

years of patient forbearance on the owner's part, his solicitor waited on

the editor one fine morning at his country house, and curtly handed the

gentleman, who thought himself indispensable, a formal note of dismissal.

Stories were told of occasional collision even between Mr Delane and the

proprietary of the great newspaper. These were for the most part doubtless

apocryphal. The one thing which observers knew for certain was that when

the commercial master of the newspaper appeared during the evening in the

same room as its literary controller, Mr Delane generally found that he

had an engagement at his office. Some years after the date at which Hyde

Park retrospectively has been presented, the best, if not the only, well

known man of letters to be observed on horseback was A. W. Kinglake, the

historian of the Crimean war. When he passed away there was left

stout-hearted, short-tempered Anthony Trollope, who, up to the time of

his fatal seizure, pounded his sturdy cob so many times round the

enclosure between Cumberland and Albert Gates, just as a few hours earlier

in his study, whether in or out of the vein, he had completed a fixed

number of words of his new novel. These knights of the pen are followed

(1897) by Frederic Harrison, Leslie Stephen and W. S. Lilly. The last

quarter of a century in London finds us with many adequate representatives

of national industry and achievement. The hero who in any department sums

up the exploits and the tendencies of his age will with difficulty be

found. The fact that it is the day of great successes does not prevent its

being comparatively the age of small men. So long as the veteran Lord

Tollemache, of Peckforton, survived to drive his team in its harness of

untanned leather from Marlborough Gate to Portman Square, the peerage in

its social aspect did not lack one whom Carlyle would have admitted to be

in his way a hero. Since 1890, when Lord Tollemache died, Burke and

Debrett contain no name whose owner is the cynosure of the holiday crowd

in at all the same degree as that last survivor of those noblemen whose

figures at an earlier period of this reign were as well known to the

popular eye as their position or eccentricity was celebrated in popular

talk.

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