PEACE AND WAR.
The year 1851 was memorable to the Queen, for it brought the opening of
the Great Exhibition, the crown of success to prolonged efforts made by
the Prince against all kinds of opposition and misrepresentation. When
first the project was mooted, hardly any one had a good word to say for
it. Members of Parliament in the House of Commons prayed that hail and
lightning might be sent from heaven to destroy it; it was bound to be a
financial failure; it would ruin Hyde Park; it would bring into London
every desperado and bad character in Europe. Its actual success was
beyond all anticipation, and was only heightened by the croaking which
had preceded it. The Queen’s delight knew no bounds, for she felt not
only that the whole thing was a magnificent success, but that it was
owing to the Prince that it was so, and therefore was of the nature of
a personal triumph for him. The Queen wrote about the opening ceremony
as “the great and glorious first of May, the proudest and happiest day
... of my happy life.” In her journal she wrote:--
“_May 1._ The great event has taken place; a complete and beautiful
triumph; a glorious and touching sight,--one which I shall ever be
proud of for my beloved Albert and my country.... Yes; it is a day
which makes my heart swell with pride and glory and thankfulness.”
The only event with which she felt she could compare it was the
coronation; “but this day’s festival was a thousand times superior.”
The effect produced on her as the view of the interior burst upon her,
she speaks of as--
“Magical, so vast, so glorious, so touching. One felt--as so many did
whom I have since spoken to--filled with devotion, more so than by any
service I have ever heard. The tremendous cheers, the joy expressed
in every face, the immensity of the building ... the organ (with
200 instruments and 600 voices, which sounded like nothing), and my
beloved husband the author of this ‘Peace Festival’: ... all this was
moving indeed, and it was and is a day to live forever.”
It is interesting to compare this account by Her Majesty of her own
emotion at the opening of the exhibition with an account of how she
impressed a spectator. Dr. Stanley (afterwards Dean Stanley) wrote in a
private letter:--
“I never had so good a view of the Queen before, and never saw her
look so thoroughly regal. She stood in front of the chair turning
round, first to one side and then to the other, with a look of power
and pride, flushed with a kind of excitement which I never witnessed
in any other human countenance.”
There were said to have been 34,000 people in the building on the
opening day, and nearly a million on the line of route. The Queen,
with her husband and eldest son and daughter, drove through this huge
multitude with no other guard than one of honor and some policemen who
were there, not so much to keep order as to aid the crowd to keep it
for themselves. The Home Secretary reported to the Queen the next day
that there had not been a single accident, nor had there been a single
case of misconduct of any kind calling for the interference of the
police. It was a magnificent object lesson on the advantages of order
springing out of liberty. Foreigners present were deeply impressed by
the good behavior of the crowd, and also by its loyalty. Jacob Ominum
described a dispute he overheard between a German and a Frenchman as
to whether in England loyalty was a principle or a passion. His own
comment was that it was both,--a principle even when the Crown behaves
badly; “but let it treat the people well, and this quiet principle
becomes a headlong passion, swelling into such enthusiasm as the
Frenchman saw when he jotted down in his notebook, ‘In England loyalty
is a passion.’”
The Duke of Wellington shared with the Royal Family the honors of the
day. He was accompanied, according to Lord Palmerston, by a running
fire of applause from the men, and of waving of handkerchiefs and
kissing of hands from the women. It used to be said that people went
to the exhibition as much to see the Duke of Wellington,[28] who was
a frequent visitor, as for any other purpose. The total number of
visitors to the exhibition during the time it remained open was more
than 6,000,000. An old Cornish woman, Mary Keslynack, not wishing to
trust herself on a railway, _walked_ to London to see the exhibition
and the Queen. Her Majesty notes in her diary the fact that the old
lady’s wish was gratified. She “was at the door to see me,--a most hale
old woman, who was near crying at my looking at her.”
But this “Peace Festival” could not avert the war-cloud that was
hanging over England. It is no part of the scheme of this little
volume to discuss the policy of the Crimean War, but only to relate
the Queen’s part in it, and her intense interest in it. Even this can
only be very briefly and inadequately sketched. Some idea of the labor
devolving upon a conscientious Sovereign in times of national crisis
may be gathered from the fact that the papers at Windsor relating to
the Eastern Question and the Crimean War, covering the period between
1853 and 1857, amount to no fewer than fifty folio volumes.
The Queen, it will be remembered, had entertained the Emperor Nicholas
at Windsor in 1844, and a very favorable personal impression had been
made on both sides. Nicholas had then had a conversation with Peel and
Aberdeen on the condition of the “Sick Man,” as the Czar called Turkey,
and the prospective disposition of his effects. The Czar and the
English Ministers signed a memorandum favorable to the claims of Russia
to protect Christians in Turkish dominions. Nicholas left England
with the impression that he had considerably reduced the antagonism
between England and Russia on the Turkish question. Aberdeen was now
Prime Minister, and the Czar believed the moment to be favorable for
translating into action the scheme which he had laid before the English
Ministers in 1844. Moreover he was doubtless under the impression that
England’s fighting days were over, and that, therefore, whether England
liked the aggression of Russia in the East or not, she would never
resist it by force of arms. During the negotiations which preceded the
war, the Czar took the unusual course of addressing an autograph letter
to the Queen, expressing surprise that any difference should have
arisen between himself and the English Government, and calling upon the
Queen’s “wisdom” and “good faith” to arbitrate between them. The Queen
immediately sent the Czar’s letter to Lord Aberdeen, as well as a draft
of her reply for his approval. Count Nesselrode was very desirous of
learning from our ambassador in St. Petersburg if he knew the tenor
of the Queen’s reply. He answered in the negative, but added, “These
correspondences between Sovereigns are not regular according to our
constitutional notions; but all I can say is, that if Her Majesty were
called upon to write upon the Eastern affair, she would not require her
Ministers’ assistance. The Queen understands these questions as well as
they do.”
The Cabinet were by no means united in their policy. Aberdeen believed
in Nicholas, and was for peace; Palmerston believed in the Turks, and
was for war.[29] Clarendon was the mediator between the two. At first
the Queen and her husband were decidedly sympathetic with Aberdeen’s
policy. They fully acknowledged that the “ignorant, barbarian, and
despotic yoke of the Mussulman” had been a curse to Europe, and agreed
with Lord Aberdeen that the Turkish system was “radically vicious and
inhuman.” Against this view Palmerston exerted all his strength. Little
by little the war fever, fanned by him and favored by events, grew
fiercer and fiercer. It spared neither the palace nor the cottage, and
presently there was hardly a voice raised in England for peace except
those of Bright and Cobden; and their influence was weakened by the
belief that they would be against all war under all circumstances.
There was a very general impression in the country that if Palmerston
had been at the Foreign Office no war would have been necessary.
Certainly experience forces the conviction that the peace-at-any-price
party, when in power, is almost certain to land the country in war;
but in this particular instance it appears probable that Palmerston,
having secured the French alliance, thought the moment for fighting
favorable, and therefore forced on the war; and that he would have done
so equally from the Foreign Office as from the Home Office. His whole
attention and interest were centred on foreign affairs, and there was
an excellent understanding between him and Lord Clarendon, who was
Foreign Secretary.
It is needless to say that the Queen was thoroughly convinced before
war was declared that it could not have been avoided, that our cause
was just, and that the claim of Russia to protect the Christian
subjects of Turkey was a hypocritical cloak to her aggression and
ambition, and that her real object was to seize Constantinople and the
command of the entrance between the Black Sea and Mediterranean, with
an eye ultimately to India and the possessions of England in Asia.
The Queen and Prince were exceedingly indignant with the King of
Prussia for withholding his support and sympathy from England. He was
a man of weak and excitable disposition, and very much influenced by
his brother-in-law, the Czar. The King’s brother, however, then known
as the Prince of Prussia (afterwards the Emperor William), and his son,
Prince Frederic William (afterwards the husband of the Princess Royal),
strongly sympathized with England; and this circumstance naturally
strengthened the warm friendship already existing between them and
the English Royal Family. How distant at this time must have seemed
the realization of Prince Albert’s and Stockmar’s dream of a united
Germany, and of a political alliance between England and Germany.
The Prince, however, never lost sight of his goal. He wrote to his
stepmother at Coburg, who was strongly Russian in her sympathies, “If
there were a _Germany_ and a _German_ Sovereign in Berlin, this [the
war] could never have happened.”
When once war was declared (March, 1854), the Queen threw her whole
heart and soul into the cause. She wished she had sons old enough to
go, two with the army, two with the navy. Lord Aberdeen had sanctioned
the setting apart of a Day of Humiliation and Prayer for the success
of our arms by sea and land. The Queen very strongly and quite
properly deprecated the use of the expression a Day of Humiliation.
She condemned this as savoring of hypocrisy. She believed her policy
to have been directed by unselfishness and honesty, and therefore
felt the only appropriate prayer would be one expressive of our deep
thankfulness for all the benefits we had enjoyed, and entreating the
protection of the Almighty for our forces on sea and land. She equally
objected to imprecations against our enemies, and suggested the use of
a form already in the Prayer Book, “To be used before a Fight at Sea.”
As the war went on, the Queen and the elder Princesses stimulated
the activity of other women throughout England in helping to supply
comforts for the wounded, and various articles of warm clothing to
be distributed among the troops. The Queen also took a keen maternal
interest in the establishment of a fund, afterwards called the
Patriotic Fund, to provide for the orphans of those who were killed
in the war. She neglected no opportunity of showing her interest
in her troops, giving them in person a hearty “Godspeed” on their
departure, and a cordial welcome on their return, and decorating with
her own hands the surviving heroes of the various engagements. Our
soldiers fought with all the old British valor and tenacity, and were
successful in every great engagement; but there was a most frightful
breakdown in the commissariat and stores departments of the army, and
in organization generally. No Wellington or Marlborough was discovered
among our generals, and no Nelson or Duncan among our admirals. The
only notable personalities revealed to the nation by the Crimean War
were those of Florence Nightingale and Dr. W. H. Russell, and the
only new piece of military knowledge, the use of women and special
correspondents in war time. Miss Nightingale and a band of other
ladies, all trained nurses, were sent out at the instance of Mr. Sidney
Herbert to Constantinople, and at once proceeded to take charge of the
great hospital at Scutari; they arrived just in time to receive the
wounded from the battle of Balaklava. Before their arrival all had been
chaos and hugger-mugger, which Miss Nightingale’s “voice of velvet and
will of steel” soon changed to order, and as much comfort and solace
as were possible in such a place. Her gentle tenderness and compassion
aroused a passion of chivalrous worship in the roughest soldiers. One
of them said afterwards to Mr. Sidney Herbert, “She would speak to one
and another, and nod and smile to many more, but she could not do it to
all, you know,--we lay there in hundreds,--but we could kiss her shadow
as it fell, and lay our heads on the pillow again, content.”
The regular red-tapists of the War Office of course opposed the sending
out of Miss Nightingale and the other ladies; there is no record in
the Prince Consort’s Life whether he and the Queen favored her mission
at the outset or not. But it is certain that they, with the rest of
the nation, very speedily recognized the value of the work she was
doing. Her letters from the seat of war were among their sources of
information, and were eagerly scanned by the Queen and her husband.
After the war was over, in the autumn of 1856, she visited the Queen
at Balmoral. The entry in the Prince’s diary is: “She put before us
all the defects of our present military hospital system. We are much
pleased with her; she is extremely modest.” Is it captious to wonder
what they had expected her to be, and if they were surprised to find
that she was not a Madame Sans-Gêne?
The letters of Dr. W. H. Russell in _The Times_ first revealed to
the nation the frightful breakdown in our military organization. The
special correspondent became, from the date of the Crimean War, a force
to be reckoned with. Instead of the cut-and-dried official despatches,
concealing often more than revealing the truth, and intended to lay
before the public only just so much of the facts as the military
authorities thought it good for them to know, the special correspondent
publishes for all the world to read, a vivid daily narrative of facts
in which blunders and incompetence, when they exist, are given quite
as much prominence as good generalship and victory. If England was
disappointed at the evidence given of her want of efficient military
organization, Russia had much more cause to be so. Russia had put her
whole strength into her armaments; she was nothing if not a great
military power; but she was everywhere unsuccessful. One of the most
dramatic incidents during the war was the death of the Czar, on March
2, 1855. It was said that his disease was influenza, followed by
congestion of the lungs; but some people thought he might have been
said to have died of a broken heart. _Punch_’s cartoon, “General
Février turned traitor,” showing Death, in a general’s uniform, laying
his icy hand on his victim, will long be remembered.
The war fever which had fired the whole of England at the beginning of
the campaign perhaps led people to expect more than was possible from
the army. There was a bitter cry of anger and disappointment that our
military successes in the field were not quickly followed up and taken
advantage of by our generals, and especially that the sufferings of
our soldiers were needlessly aggravated by the waste, incompetence, and
utter muddle reigning over the distribution of the food and stores.
Lord Aberdeen, the Prime Minister, was blamed; he had been dragged
into the war, and never really cordially approved it, it was said. Mr.
Gladstone was blamed; he was Chancellor of the Exchequer, and thought
it his duty to provide the war budget out of income; “penny wise and
pound foolish” was the comment on this. War is one of the things that
cannot be done cheap. These and other Ministers who were attacked
could defend themselves in Parliament; but the phials of public wrath
were more especially directed against the Prince, who for months bore
every kind of imputation and false accusation poured out against him
in the press, without having any opportunity of self-defence. Even
before the outbreak of the war, it had been said that he was completely
anti-English in his sympathies; that we, therefore, had a traitor
in our midst, able and willing to use his position on the steps of
the Throne to weaken and humiliate England. So diligently were these
false reports circulated in the press and by word of mouth that they
were the common topic of conversation all over England. At one time a
report was current, and was actually believed, that the Prince had been
impeached for high treason and sent to the Tower. Thousands of people
assembled outside to see his entrance. If this had been the condition
of the public mind before the war began, it is not difficult to imagine
that the disease of suspicion and distrust broke out again after the
beginning of hostilities, when there was so much to criticise in the
organization of the War Department at home. The public wanted a victim,
some one to wreak their anger upon, and the Prince served them for this
purpose. Even so well informed a politician, and so able a man as Mr.
Roebuck, believed, and openly said to the Duke of Newcastle, the War
Minister, that of course every one knew that there was a determination
“in a high quarter” that the Crimean expedition should not succeed.
The Duke thought that the expression, “a high quarter,” was directed
against himself, and said so. “Oh, no,” answered Mr. Roebuck, “I mean a
much higher personage than you; I mean Prince Albert.”
The Duke immediately endeavored to remove this entirely false
impression, and asked Mr. Roebuck if he were not aware that the Queen
had been ill with anxiety about her troops. The reply was that no one
doubted the Queen’s devotion to her country; that when Lord Cardigan
was at Windsor, one of the Royal children had said to him, “You must
hurry back to Sebastopol and take it, else it will kill mamma.” Yet
almost in the same breath Mr. Roebuck maintained that the Prince was
working behind the Queen’s back against the efficient organization of
the army, in order to prevent the success of her troops.
An expression made use of by the Prince in a public speech, towards
the close of the Crimean War, June, 1855, has become historical. He
contrasted the autocratic power of the Czar of Russia, characterized by
unity of purpose and action, and when desirable by secrecy, with the
Parliamentary Government of the Queen, where every movement of the army
or navy, and every stage of every diplomatic negotiation are publicly
proclaimed, and have to be explained and defended in Parliament; and
he concluded by saying that “Constitutional Government was on its
trial,” and could only come through it triumphantly if the country
granted a patriotic and indulgent confidence to the Ministry. This was
twisted by the Prince’s enemies into an attack on the principles of
constitutionalism; but it really was an appeal to the good sense and
patriotism of the nation, on which, at bottom, Parliamentary Government
must rest.
The Tory and the Radical Press must share the blame of the disgraceful
attacks made upon the Prince. The Queen was bitterly wounded by them.
Greville, no courtier, as many former extracts prove, said he never
remembered anything more atrocious and unjust than these savage libels.
That they had been fostered by the hostility between Palmerston and the
Prince there can be no doubt. One of the lies in circulation was that
there was a pamphlet giving authentic proofs of the Prince’s treachery
to England, that the Prince had bought up all the copies but six, which
were in Palmerston’s possession; whereupon the Prince had made his
peace with Palmerston, in order to secure the continued suppression of
the pamphlet. This called forth an authoritative denial in the columns
of _The Morning Post_ from Lord Palmerston. It is probable that one
motive of the Queen in bestowing the title of Prince Consort upon her
husband in 1857, was to give a practical reply to these slanders. It
would have been well if this had been preceded by an action for libel
against the most conspicuous of the Prince’s traducers; this would have
given a chance of the real author of the libels being run to earth.
The alliance with France during the Crimean War led to the exchange
of visits between the two Courts. The Queen and her husband were
quite captivated by the loveliness and charm of the Empress Eugénie,
and at first thought far better of the Emperor than he deserved. He
laid himself out with considerable adroitness to please the Queen,
and succeeded. The Emperor and Empress visited the Queen at Windsor
in April, 1855. During their visit to England a grand fête was given
in their honor at the Crystal Palace. The Emperor lived in perpetual
dread of assassination, and on this occasion he appears to have
communicated some of his nervous apprehension to the Queen, who wrote
in her diary:--
“Nothing could have succeeded better. Still I own I felt anxious as we
passed through the multitude of people who, after all, were very close
to us. I felt, as I walked on the Emperor’s arm, that I was possibly
a protection for him. All thoughts of nervousness for myself were
passed. I only thought of him; and so it is, Albert says, when one
forgets one’s self, one loses this great and foolish nervousness.”
Her Majesty’s courage and its source are well exemplified in this
passage.
The return visit of the Queen to Paris took place in the autumn of the
same year. She was accompanied by her husband and the Prince of Wales
and the Princess Royal. Some characteristic incidents connected with
the Queen’s visit to Paris ought to be mentioned, especially that,
although overflowing with friendliness and good feeling to the Emperor,
she thought it her duty to explain to him that nothing could shake her
kindly relations with the Orleans family. She told him that she had
been intimate with them when they were in power, and she could not drop
them when they were in adversity. Possibly Louis Napoleon remembered
this conversation in 1870, when he himself was an exile in England, and
experienced the benefit of the Queen’s faithfulness to her friends when
they were in trouble. In this same conversation he opened the subject
of his confiscation of the property of the Orleans family, and the
Queen gave frank expression to her own views on the subject. The Queen
remarks in her diary:--
“I was very anxious to get out what I had to say on the subject, and
not to have this untouchable ground between us. Stockmar, so far back
as last winter, suggested and advised that this course should be
pursued.”
After these visits letters were frequently interchanged between
the two Sovereigns. In one of his, Louis Napoleon appears to have
plumed himself on the advantages of an absolute monarchy, especially
in conducting negotiations with other States, uncontrolled power of
decision vested in the Sovereign alone, and so on. To which the Queen
rejoined, “There is, however, another side to this picture, in which I
consider I have an advantage which your Majesty has not. Your policy
runs the risk of remaining unsupported by the nation,” and you may
be exposed “to the dangerous alternative of either having to impose
it upon them against their will, or of having suddenly to alter your
course abroad, or even, perhaps, to encounter grave resistance. I,
on the other hand, can allow my policy free scope to work out its
own consequences, certain of the steady and consistent support of
my people, who, having had a share in determining my policy, feel
themselves to be identified with it.” Here, too, there was food for
reflection on the Emperor’s part in after years.
The Royal children greatly enjoyed their visit to Paris, and it is said
that when the time came for their departure the Prince of Wales begged
the Empress to get permission for him and the Princess Royal to be left
behind to prolong their visit. “The Empress said she was afraid this
would be impossible, as the Queen and the Prince would not be able to
do without them;” to which the boy replied, “Not do without us! I don’t
fancy that, for there are six more of us at home, and they don’t want
us.”
Very soon after the return of the Court to Balmoral (10th Sept., 1855)
the Queen and Prince had the intense satisfaction of hearing of the
fall of Sebastopol, an event which brought the end of the war within
measurable distance. Peace was concluded in the following spring.
It was a source of great pride to the Queen to know that England was
stronger at the end of the Crimean War than at the beginning. The
country had learnt by its mistakes, and was not exhausted by its
sacrifices. The Indian Mutiny, which quickly succeeded the Crimean War,
found England more capable of dealing with it than if it had taken
place earlier. This was fully recognized by the Prince Consort. If
those who had accused him of an anti-English spirit could have read
his private letters they would have had their eyes opened. He wrote to
Stockmar August, 1857:--
“The events in India are a heavy domestic calamity for England. Yet,
just because of this, there is less reason to despair, as the English
people surpass all others in Europe in energy and vigor of character:
and for strong men misfortune serves as a school for instruction and
improvement.”
The autumn of 1855 brought with it two interesting domestic events
for the Royal Family. The new house at Balmoral was occupied for the
first time; and, what was much more important, a visit from Prince
Frederick William of Prussia resulted in his engagement to the Princess
Royal. She was then under fifteen years of age, and it was thought best
that there should be no formal betrothal, and no public announcement
until after the Princess’s confirmation in the following spring. The
first break into the child-life of a family, by the marriage of one
of its members, is always an event that awakens many emotions. The
Queen and Prince were thoroughly satisfied, and had cause to be, with
their future son-in-law; but the prospect of parting with their eldest
child was a bitter pill. The Prussian Prince was heartily in love,
and went on year after year, till his tragic death in 1888, becoming
more and more a lover and friend to his wife, whom he constantly spoke
of as “the ablest woman in Europe.” Lady Bloomfield, whose husband
was, in 1855, English Ambassador in Berlin, gives an account of the
announcement there by the King at a State dinner of the engagement
between his nephew and the English Princess. Lady Bloomfield says that
the Prince was in such high spirits, and looked so excessively happy,
it was a pleasure to see him. On their arrival in Germany, shortly
after their marriage, he telegraphed to the Queen at Windsor, “The
whole Royal Family is enchanted with my wife.--F. W.” On the occasion
of the Prince of Wales’s wedding, in 1863, the Prince of Prussia was
overflowing with praise of his wife. Bishop Wilberforce noted in his
diary on this occasion, “I was charmed with the Prince of Prussia, and
the warmth of his expressions as to his wife. ‘Bishop,’ he said, ‘with
me it has been one long honeymoon.’”
The story of the betrothal, and how it was associated with the giving
and receiving of a piece of white heather, a proverbial emblem of good
luck, is very prettily told by Her Majesty in “Leaves from the Journal
in the Highlands.” The chief anxiety the parents had in the matter
was on account of the Princess’s extreme youth; but her intellect
and character were unusually developed, and she had, what so often
accompanies fine intellect, a child-like innocence and purity of heart
which specially endeared her to all in her home circle. Prince Albert
wrote at once to Stockmar to tell him the news: “Victoria,” he wrote,
“is greatly excited; still, all goes smoothly and prudently. The Prince
is really in love, and the little lady does her best to please him.”
The engagement was not well received by an important section of the
English Press. So little could the writer of the articles read the
future, that Prussia was sneered at “as a paltry German dynasty,”
Prince Frederick William was described as being in “ignominious
attendance” on his “Imperial Master” the Czar, and it was predicted
that the Princess would become anti-English in feeling, and also, with
not much consistency, that she would be sent back to England at no
distant date, “an exile and a fugitive.” The ignorance of this attack
robbed it of its poignancy. Prince Frederick William and his father
were strongly in accord with the policy of England during the Crimean
War, and consequently very much out of favor at their own Court and in
St. Petersburg.
Prince Albert had always taken the keenest interest in directing the
education of his eldest daughter, and the fact that she was probably
destined to occupy in Prussia a position somewhat similar to his own in
England, strengthened the already strong bonds of union between them.
From the time of her engagement he worked with her daily at historical
subjects, and spared no pains to equip her well for her future duties.
She translated important political pamphlets from German into English
under his direction, and he took undisguised fatherly pride in her
capacity and in her widening interests in life. An accident, which
might have had very serious consequences, happened to the Princess in
1856, which illustrated her self-control and reliance on her father.
As she was sealing a letter she set fire to the muslin sleeve of her
dress, and her right arm was very badly burned; the wound was terrible
to look at, as the muslin was burnt into the flesh; it must have caused
very severe pain, but the Princess never lost her presence of mind or
habitual thoughtfulness for others. She did not utter a cry, and said:
“Don’t frighten mamma, send for papa first.” Her marriage took place
on January 25th, 1858. She was a very youthful bride, having only
lately completed her seventeenth year. Her first child, the present
Emperor William II., was born on January 27th, 1859. His birth nearly
cost the life of his young mother. The Queen’s daughter has not had a
bed of roses in her adopted country, any more than the Queen’s husband
had a bed of roses here. But in both cases cruel misrepresentation on
the part of a section of the public was more than compensated by the
loving appreciation and generous confidence which marriage brought
them. The Princess Royal and the Prince Consort each had many a drop of
bitterness in their cup; but while he lived, Prince Frederick William
was her faithful worshipper, just as the Queen was and is of the Prince
Consort.
On the day of the Princess Royal’s marriage the entry in the Queen’s
Diary runs:--
“The second most eventful day of my life as regards feelings. I felt
as if I were being married over again myself, only much more nervous,
for I had not that blessed feeling which I had then, which raises and
supports one, of giving myself up for life to him whom I loved and
worshipped--then and ever!”
Speaking of the ceremony in the Chapel Royal, St. James’s, Her Majesty
adds:--
“The drums and trumpets played marches, and the organ played others as
the procession approached and entered; ... the effect was thrilling
and striking as you heard the music gradually coming nearer and
nearer. Fritz looked pale and much agitated, but behaved with the
greatest self-possession, bowing to us, and then kneeling down in
a most devotional manner. Then came the bride’s procession, and
our darling Flower looked very touching and lovely, with such an
innocent, confident, and serious expression. It was beautiful to
see her kneeling with Fritz, their hands joined.... My last fear of
being overcome vanished on seeing Vicky’s quiet, calm, and composed
manner.... Dearest Albert took her by the hand to give her away, _my_
beloved Albert (who, I saw, felt so strongly), which reminded me
vividly of having in the same way, proudly, tenderly, confidently,
most lovingly, knelt by him, on this very same spot, and having our
hands joined there.”
The Queen and the Prince Consort both recalled the series of important
Royal marriages between German Princes and English Princesses,
beginning with the marriage of Princess Charlotte, heiress to the
throne, to Prince Leopold in 1816, then their own in 1840, and, lastly,
of their child to the heir to the throne of Prussia, in 1858. The
Prince Consort wrote on the wedding-day to the faithful Stockmar:--
“My heart impels me to send you a line to-day, as I cannot shake
you by the hand. In a few hours our child will be a wedded wife! a
work in which you have had a large share, and, I know, will take a
cordial interest. It is just eighteen years since you subscribed my
marriage contract, and were present in the same Chapel Royal at my
union with Victoria. Uncle Leopold, whom you, now forty-two years
ago, accompanied to London on the occasion of his marriage, will,
with myself, be one of the bride’s supporters. These reminiscences
must excite a special feeling within you to-day, with which I hope is
coupled the conviction that we all gratefully revere in you a dear
friend and wise counsellor.”
On a bitter winter day, February 2nd, 1858, the Queen and Prince bade
farewell to their darling child on her departure for Germany. The
bride’s exclamation had been, “I think it will kill me to take leave
of dear papa.” Those who witnessed her departure through London and at
Gravesend spoke of her floods of tears, and many a sympathizing thought
went with the daughter of England to her new home.
[28] The Duke of Wellington died in September, 1852, deeply mourned
by the Queen and her husband. The Queen wrote to her uncle, “You will
mourn with us over the loss we and the whole nation have experienced
in the death of the dear and great Duke of Wellington.... He was the
pride, and the good genius, as it were, of this country, the most loyal
and devoted subject, and the stanchest supporter the Crown ever had.
He was to us a true friend and most valuable adviser.... We shall soon
stand sadly alone. Aberdeen is almost the only personal friend of that
kind left to us. Melbourne, Peel, Liverpool, now the Duke, all gone!”
[29] The only criticism ever made by Palmerston on the Turks was that
it was impossible to expect much energy from a people who wore no heels
to their shoes!