the ‘Great Elchi,’ and Sir Stratford Canning [q. v.] took upon himself the responsibility of advising resolute resistance, and, in conjunction with his French colleague, allowed the Porte to understand that in the event of war Turkey would have the support of England and France (Lane-Poole, Life of Stratford Canning, ii. 191). Upon this the imperial ambassadors broke off diplomatic relations with the Porte. Palmerston at once obtained the consent of the cabinet to support Turkey in her generous action, and to make friendly representations at Vienna and Petersburg to induce the emperors ‘not to press the Sultan to do that which a regard for his honour and the common dictates of humanity forbid him to do.’ At the same time the English and French squadrons were instructed to move up to the Dardanelles with orders to go to the aid of the sultan if he should invite them (to S. Canning, 2 Oct. 1849). Palmerston was careful to explain to Baron Brunnow that this step was in no sense a threat, but merely a measure ‘to prevent accidents,’ and to ‘comfort and support the sultan’—‘like holding a bottle of salts to the nose of a lady who had been frightened.’ He was fully conscious, however, of the gravity of the situation, and prepared to go all lengths in support of Turkey, ‘let who will be against her’ (to Ponsonby, 6 Oct. 1849). Firm language and the presence of the fleets brought the two emperors to reason, and in a fortnight Austria privately intimated that the extradition would not be insisted on.
Palmerston's chivalrous defence of the refugees brought him great renown in England, which his imprudent reception of a deputation of London radicals, overflowing with virulent abuse of the two emperors, did nothing to diminish. The ‘judicious bottle-holder,’ as he then styled himself, was the most popular man in the country (cf. cartoon in Punch, 6 Dec. 1851). The ‘Pacifico affair,’ which occurred shortly afterwards, tested his popularity. Two British subjects, Dr. George Finlay [q. v.] and David Pacifico [q. v.], had laid claims against the Greek government for injuries suffered by them at the hands of Greek subjects. The Greek government repudiated their right to compensation. Consequently Admiral Sir William Parker [q. v.] blockaded the Piræus in January 1850. The claims were clear, and force was used only after every diplomatic expedient had been exhausted. ‘It is our long forbearance, and not our precipitation, that deserves remark,’ said Palmerston. The French government offered to mediate, but on 21 April the French mediator at Athens, Baron Gros, threw up his mission as hopeless. The coercion of Greece by the English fleet was renewed (25 April), and the Greek government compelled to accept England's terms (26 April). The renewed blockade of the Piræus was held by France to be a breach of an arrangement made in London on 18 April between Palmerston and the French ambassador, Drouyn de Lhuys. It seems that the promptness of action taken at Athens by Admiral Parker and by Thomas (afterwards Sir Thomas) Wyse [q. v.], the British minister at Athens, who was not informed of the negotiations in London, was not foreseen by the foreign secretary. It had, however, been understood all along that, if French mediation failed, coercion might be renewed without further reference to the home government (Greville, Journal, pt. ii. vol. iii. p. 334). The French government seized the opportunity to fix a quarrel upon England in order to make a decent figure before the warlike party in the assembly at Paris. With a great show of offended integrity, and expressly on the queen's birthday, they recalled Drouyn de Lhuys from London, and in the chambers openly taxed the English government with duplicity. Those who understood French politics were not deceived. ‘Oh, it's all nonsense,’ said the old Duke of Wellington; and Palmerston did not think it even worth while to retaliate by recalling Lord Normanby from Paris. He hastened, on the contrary, to conciliate French susceptibilities by consulting Guizot in the final settlement of some outstanding claims upon Greece, and the storm blew over. The House of Lords indeed censured him by a majority of thirty-seven, on Lord Stanley's motion on 17 June, supported by Aberdeen and Brougham; but in the commons Roebuck's vote of confidence was carried in favour of the government by forty-six. The debate, which lasted four nights, was made memorable by the brilliant speeches of Gladstone, Cockburn, and Peel, who spoke for the last time, for his fatal accident happened next day; but the chief honours fell to Palmerston. In his famous ‘civis Romanus’ oration he for more than four hours vindicated his whole foreign policy with a breadth of view, a tenacity of logical argument, a moderation of tone, and a height of eloquence which the house listened to with rapture and interrupted with volleys of cheers. It was the greatest speech he ever made; ‘a most able and temperate speech, a speech which made us all proud of the man who delivered it,’ said Sir Robert Peel, generous to the last. It ‘was an extraordinary effort,’ wrote Sir George C. Lewis (to Sir E. Head, Letters, p. 227). ‘He defeated the whole conserva-
