In 1814, the Duke of Wellington was appointed Ambassador to
France, and proceeded in that capacity to the Congress of Vienna. While
there, the return of Napoleon from Elba once more called him to the field;
and on June 18, 1815, he gained his greatest triumph at Waterloo. After
this Wellington served his country in the capacity of a diplomat, as
Commander-in-Chief of the army, Prime Minister, and again as
Commander-in-Chief of the army. A public funeral was of course decreed.
William Gladstone pronounced the funeral oration in Parliament. In the
procession that followed Wellington's bier, British soldiers of every arm
and of every regiment of the service for the first time marched together.
From Grosvenor Gate to St. Paul's Cathedral there was not a foot of
unoccupied ground. An unbroken silence was maintained as the procession
moved slowly by to the mausoleum where the remains of England's great
warrior were to be placed side by side with those of Nelson. Alfred
Tennyson recited his famous ode on the death of the Duke of Wellington:

Bury the Great Duke
With an empire's lamentation,
Let us bury the Great Duke
To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation,
Mourning when their leaders fall,
Warriors carry the warrior's pall,
And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.

* * * * *

Lead out the pageant: sad and slow,
As fits an universal woe,
Let the long, long procession go,
And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow,
And let the mournful martial music blow;
The last great Englishman is low.

[Sidenote: Disraeli and Gladstone]

A new Parliament assembled in November. The result of the elections left
the government in as hopeless a minority as before. An elaborate system of
finance brought forward by Disraeli was rudely handled by Gladstone. The
debate was one of the fiercest ever heard in Parliament. The excitement on
both sides was intense. Disraeli, animated by the power of desperation, was
in a mood neither to give nor to take quarter. He assailed Sir Charles
Wood, the late Chancellor of the Exchequer, with a vehemence which more
than once went to the very limits of Parliamentary decorum. The House had
not heard the concluding word of Disraeli's bitter and impassioned speech,
when Gladstone leaped to his feet to answer him. The Government was
defeated. Disraeli took his defeat with characteristic composure. The
morning was cold and wet. "It will be an unpleas