Memoirs of the Life and Correspondence of Henry Reeve, C.B., D.C.L.: In Two Volumes. Volume II

In Short

This collection of journals and correspondence provides a vivid, firsthand account of the public and private life of Henry Reeve, a prominent 19th-century journalist and editor of the Edinburgh Review. Spanning from the mid-1850s to the final years of the century, the text documents the inner workings of European politics, the intense rivalries of the era’s power brokers, and the personal intellectual circles that shaped British policy. Beyond its historical utility, the book serves as a portrait of a man deeply embedded in the social and political fabric of his time, offering a rare, textured look at how the influential elite of London, Paris, and beyond understood their own unfolding history.

The Story

The narrative follows Henry Reeve through the turbulent decades of the late 19th century, starting with the shadow of the Italian question and the geopolitical maneuvering of Louis Napoleon. As an editor, Reeve stands at the center of a vast correspondence network, exchanging letters with figures like Lord Clarendon, M. Guizot, and the Comte de Paris. The arc of his life is defined by his commitment to maintaining an "impartial and well-meaning" observation of international affairs, even as he finds himself caught in the crossfire of political scandals and literary feuds.

The story moves through the dramatic upheavals of the era: the Franco-Sardinian war, the rise of Bismarck’s Prussia, the fall of the Second French Empire, and the violent eruption of the Paris Commune. Reeve records these events with a blend of professional detachment and genuine, often anxious, personal concern. He is a man who moves between the highest echelons of society—attending exclusive dinners at The Club or discussing the Judicature Bill with archbishops—and the quiet, reflective periods of his later life at his country home, Foxholes.

As the years progress, the narrative transitions from the acute tension of international statecraft to the inevitable markers of aging and the loss of contemporaries. The tone becomes more contemplative, reflecting on the disintegration of old political parties and the emergence of new global powers, such as the sudden rise of Japan. The ending is not a singular climax but a gradual, dignified closing of a long life. Reeve, increasingly confined by the infirmities of age, continues to comment on current events—the "rotten" state of government or the complexities of the Pacific—while maintaining a lifelong habit of intellectual engagement. He concludes his career and his journals having witnessed, in the words of his friend Guizot, an "immense Shakespearean tragedy" of history. He leaves behind a record of a world where diplomacy was conducted through the personal letters of gentlemen, a world that was rapidly transforming into the modern, more fragmented reality of the early 20th century.

How It Unfolds

The simmering tension Reeve sets the stage with the political fallout of the Orsini attempt on Louis Napoleon and the subsequent secret negotiations between France and Italy. He details the rapid military preparations that lead to the Franco-Sardinian war against Austria.

The editorial influence The narrative shifts to the power of the Edinburgh Review, where Reeve’s articles spark international attention and bridge the gap between public opinion and state policy. He receives letters from Lord Clarendon and Edward Cheney, illustrating how his writing became a vital conduit for enlightenment on the "Italian question."

The weight of secrets Reeve explores the mechanics of 19th-century espionage, recounting the theft of State papers and the long history of intelligence gathering between European rivals. These anecdotes highlight the precarious nature of diplomacy in an age of shifting alliances.

The domestic and international sphere The text moves through domestic life and travel, including a tour of Spain where Reeve observes local customs and literary culture. Simultaneously, he manages the professional challenges of editing, dealing with hostile pamphlets and the scrutiny of his own historical accuracy.

The cataclysms of war The focus tightens on the fall of the French Empire and the horrors of the Paris Commune. Reeve records his reactions to these "tremendous catastrophes" while noting the stark, almost jarring contrast with the "even tenour" of his own London life.

The final observations In his later years, Reeve reflects on the changing political landscape and the decline of the old order. He concludes by observing the rise of Japan and the internal rot of British governance, maintaining his role as an "enlightened observer" until the very end.

The People

Henry Reeve remains the steady, intellectual anchor of the narrative. He is a man of precise habits, deep connections, and a profound sense of duty to his country and his editorial craft. He is not merely a reporter; he is an architect of opinion who values clarity and candid historical assessment above all.

He is frequently in dialogue with Lord Clarendon, a pragmatic and seasoned statesman who provides the behind-the-scenes reality of parliamentary maneuverings. Clarendon acts as a foil to Reeve’s own analytical intensity, offering a world-weary perspective on the "strict neutrality delusion" of the British public.

Then there is the figure of M. Guizot, the French historian and statesman. Through their correspondence, Guizot provides the emotional and philosophical weight of the narrative, framing the history of France since 1789 as an "immense Shakespearean tragedy." He represents the intellectual tradition that Reeve deeply admires, someone who can maintain a philosophical perspective even while his world is burning.

Finally, the Comte de Paris emerges as a recurring figure whose path toward potential kingship represents the lingering, complex hopes of the Orleanist movement. He respects Reeve’s judgment, viewing him as one of the few "enlightened observers" capable of judging the affairs of the world. These men—and others like the sharp-tongued Lord Westbury or the increasingly radical Lord Derby—are not just acquaintances; they are the nodes of a dying, deeply interconnected European aristocratic network that Reeve is attempting to document and preserve.

In Its Own Voice

"It was, and still is, very commonly believed that in his youth Louis Napoleon had been affiliated to one or other of the secret societies of Italy, that he was still pledged to this, was bound to obey its orders, and that Orsini was an agent to remind him that the attainment of high rank, far from releasing him from the bond, rendered it more stringent."

Reeve introduces the political backdrop of the Italian question by describing the rumors surrounding Louis Napoleon’s secret, violent origins.

"The King said he would not accept it, and would continue the war on his own account. The Emperor shrugged his shoulders and said 'Vous êtes fou.'"

Reeve recounts a private, dismissive exchange between the Emperor and the King of Sardinia that highlights the volatile nature of their personal relations.

"My own idea is that woman is neither lesser man, nor the rival of man, but a creature with her share of work so well defined and so untransferable, as to make it impossible for her, whatsoever might be her gifts and training, to compete with him on perfectly fair terms."

In a letter to Reeve, Mrs. Oliphant provides a sharp, period-specific perspective on the intellectual and social debates surrounding gender and John Stuart Mill's theories.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an examination of the weight of history and the responsibility of the intellectual to witness it clearly. Reeve is obsessed with the idea of "accurate information" in an age where misinformation, secret societies, and political agendas frequently distort the public record. The underlying question is whether an individual—a man of letters—can influence the course of an empire through the power of objective, well-reasoned criticism.

The text also interrogates the fragility of the "old order." As Reeve watches his friends, his colleagues, and his political counterparts pass away or lose their influence, he grapples with the transition from a world of gentlemanly diplomacy to one of mass politics and unpredictable international conflict. It is a meditation on the tension between the stability of one’s private, intellectual life and the relentless, often violent, march of history that surrounds it.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy historical biographies, the intricacies of 19th-century statecraft, or the "lost" art of the intellectual essay will find much to admire here. There is a distinct, rhythmic pleasure in reading Reeve’s prose—it is precise, elegant, and filled with the confidence of a man who knows exactly who he is and where he stands in the world. It provides a unique, non-hyped perspective on the Victorian era, stripping away the romanticism to show the messy, letter-strewn reality of political life.

However, the book is not for everyone. Its length and its dense focus on specific, often obscure, political debates of the mid-to-late 1800s require patience. The modern reader must also navigate the period-specific attitudes held by Reeve and his correspondents—attitudes toward gender, class, and colonial power that reflect the prejudices of their time. These are not glossed over; they are embedded in the text. You will encounter the casual dismissal of women's professional equality or the detached observation of "frightful" revolutions as if they were theatrical performances. Yet, for those willing to engage with the text on its own terms, the rewards are immense. You leave the book feeling as though you have spent years sitting in a study in London, listening to the most brilliant minds of the 19th century debate the future of the world while the tea goes cold and the maps of Europe change forever.