A NATION OF SHOPKEEPERS.
England had hardly drawn breath from the Crimean War when she was face
to face with the Indian Mutiny. The first symptoms of the outbreak were
observed in February, 1857. By the summer of that year it had attained
appalling dimensions; but the gravity of the calamity brought out the
tenacity of the English character, and it was gradually realized by the
country that no effort and no sacrifice would be too great in order
to preserve intact our hold upon India. The Queen realized this at a
very early period, and urged upon the Prime Minister the undesirability
of reducing our military establishments at a moment when India might
require all our strength. No protracted diplomatic labors, as in the
case of the Crimean War, were thrown upon the Sovereign by the Indian
Mutiny. The Queen’s duty was discharged by keeping a keen look-out
upon the development of the Mutiny, by encouraging the despatch of
ample military reinforcements for India, by cheering the civil and
military commanders there by her constant sympathy and appreciation
of their services, and, above all, when the Mutiny was finally
suppressed, by casting the weight of her influence and authority in the
scale of mercy, and of the policy which gained for Lord Canning, the
Governor-General, the nickname, intended in contempt, but remembered
now as a true title of honor, of “Clemency Canning.”
Her Majesty wrote to Lord Canning fully approving of stern justice
being dealt out to all who had been guilty either of mutiny or of
complicity in the terrible outrages against women and children, but
strongly supporting him in his brave and determined opposition to
vindictive fury against the natives at large, in which too many of the
English in India were tempted to indulge.
When the worst of the Mutiny was over, August, 1858, and an Act
had been passed transferring the Government of India from the East
India Company to the Crown, the time had arrived for the issue of a
Royal Proclamation to the inhabitants of India. The draft of this
Proclamation reached the Queen when she was paying her first visit to
her newly married daughter in Prussia. It will throw a little light on
those who think that the function of a Sovereign in a Constitutional
monarchy is simply to indorse everything submitted by the Ministers,
to learn that the Queen on reading this draft felt that neither
in spirit nor in language was it appropriate to the occasion. Her
objections were set forth in detail to Lord Malmesbury, who was the
Minister-in-Attendance, and the following letter was written by the
Queen to the Prime Minister, Lord Derby:--
BABELSBERG, 15th Aug., 1858.
The Queen has asked Lord Malmesbury to explain in detail to Lord Derby
her objections to the draft of the Proclamation for India. The Queen
would be glad if Lord Derby would write it himself in his excellent
language, bearing in mind that it is a small Sovereign who speaks
to more than a hundred millions of Eastern people on assuming the
direct Government over them, and, after a bloody civil war, giving
them pledges which her future reign is to redeem, and explaining the
principles of her Government. Such a document should breathe feelings
of generosity, benevolence, and religious toleration, and point out
the privileges which the Indians will receive in being placed on an
equality with the subjects of the British Crown, and the prosperity
following in the train of civilization.
Lord Malmesbury’s memorandum which accompanied this letter goes
more into detail. Referring to the draft of which Her Majesty had
disapproved, Lord Malmesbury remarks that she had specially objected
to the expression that she had the “power of undermining” the Indian
religions. “Her Majesty would prefer that the subject should be
introduced by a declaration in the sense that the deep attachment which
Her Majesty feels to her own religion, and the comfort and happiness
which she derives from its consolations, will preclude her from any
attempt to interfere with the native religions, and that her servants
will be directed to act scrupulously in accordance with her directions.”
It is impossible to imagine a better example than this gives of the
value of the influence of a truly womanly woman upon political affairs.
The amended Proclamation gave great satisfaction to Lord Canning, and
materially aided him in his difficult task of conciliation. He wrote:--
“To the good effect of the words in which religion is spoken of in the
Proclamation, Lord Canning looks forward with very sanguine hope. It
is impossible that the justice, charity, and kindliness, as well as
the true wisdom which mark these words, should not be appreciated.”
If a mere handful of Englishmen are to continue to hold the two hundred
millions of the various native populations of India, they cannot do
so by mere brute force, but only by convincing the leaders of the
people that the English Government is actuated by feelings of “justice,
charity, and kindliness” towards them. The Queen’s Proclamation
produced the best effect in India. _The Times_ correspondent, writing
upon it, said: “Genuineness of Asiatic feeling is always a problem,
but I have little doubt it is in this instance tolerably sincere. The
people understand an ‘Empress,’ and did not understand the Company;”
he adds that the general opinion among the masses was “that the Queen
_had hanged the Company_!” We have here an example of the informal
use of the title “Empress,” the formal adoption of which caused so
much excitement and opposition in 1876. It is possible, however, that
from the time of the passing of the Government of India Act, 1858, Mr.
Disraeli bore it in mind as an addition he would make to the Queen’s
titles when a favorable opportunity offered. In 1858, when he was
Chancellor of the Exchequer, he wrote to the Queen on the progress of
the Government of India Bill through the House of Commons, and said,
“But it is only the ante-chamber of an imperial palace, and your
Majesty would do well to deign to consider the steps which are now
necessary to influence the opinions and affect the imaginations of the
Indian populations. _The name of your Majesty ought to be impressed
upon their native life._”
The immediate carrying out of the scheme here hinted at was rendered
impossible in consequence of the change of Ministry which took place in
the following year; but eighteen years later, when Disraeli was Prime
Minister, he gave effect to this project as part of a large scheme for
bringing home to the Sovereign and her people in every part of the
world that England had ceased to be a “little world, a precious stone
set in the silver sea,” and had expanded into a gigantic empire.
But the time for this had not come in 1858 and 1859, when affairs
nearer home became again of engrossing interest.
The years which immediately succeeded the Crimean War are full of
evidence of the growing distrust of Louis Napoleon felt by the Queen
and her husband. He had succeeded at the beginning of their intercourse
in producing the impression on them of perfect frankness; but by 1859
they had discovered that he was “born and bred a conspirator,” and
that through all the changes and vicissitudes of life he would ever
be scheming and suspicious. Their eyes must have been opened to his
real character by the quality of the people by whom he was served and
surrounded. Throughout France, with very few exceptions, honest men
and women held aloof from him. Greville speaks of the crowd which
formed his Court as being more “_encanaillées_” than ever. The Prince
Consort saw and lamented this, and endeavored to convince him that no
Sovereign could be great without the aid of great Ministers. But great
Ministers were not to be had for the asking. Louis Napoleon had so
little confidence in his accredited representatives that in matters of
first-class importance they were set on one side, and the business was
conducted by the Emperor in person. This was not astonishing, as honest
men mostly declined to serve him; he had to do as best he could with
inferior material, and naturally could not rely on it in moments of
emergency.
Little by little the true character of Louis Napoleon was revealed
to the Queen, and under these circumstances it is easy to understand
that though the social intercourse between the two Sovereigns was
not abruptly cut short, yet it became very constrained and uneasy.
The Queen and Prince paid two visits to Cherbourg: the first was in
1857, and was entirely private and informal; the Royal couple were
accompanied by six of their children, and the main object of the visit
was holiday-making: but their diaries and letters contain significant
observations upon the great strength of the Cherbourg fortifications,
and the Queen, with her habitual openness, said it made her “very
unhappy” to see the enormous strength and size of the forts; while the
Prince, in more diplomatic language, says the gigantic strength of the
place had given him “grave cause for reflection.” They went home very
strongly impressed by the necessity of increasing our strength both by
sea and land, so that it might not compare so very disadvantageously
with that of our valued ally. Their second visit to Cherbourg was
in the following year, 1858, and was a grand ceremonial; they were
received by the Emperor and Empress in state, nine line-of-battle
ships were drawn up along the breakwater, and all the ugly forts which
dominate the harbor belched forth volleys of gunpowder in their honor,
and also perhaps to demonstrate afresh the extent and strength of the
fortifications. It does not seem to have been a gay visit; the Emperor
was embarrassed, “_boutonné_ and silent and not ready to talk” the
Queen wrote, while the Prince observed, “Empress looks ill: he is out
of humor.” When the inevitable time for speech-making came, and the
Prince Consort had to return thanks for the toast of the Queen’s and
his own health, Her Majesty writes that it was a dreadful moment, which
she hoped never to have to go through again. “He did it very well,
though he hesitated once. I sat shaking, with my eyes _cloués sur la
table_.” The Emperor and Empress were both very nervous, and the Queen
shook so she could not drink her coffee. The reception given to the
Queen was magnificent and uncomfortable in the highest possible degree.
One flight of rockets, a mere incident in a grand display of fireworks,
was said to have cost 25,000 francs. From first to last, the fête
was organized with regard to the highest possible degree of expense.
The Queen and Prince were more than ever impressed that the strength
of Cherbourg was a menace to England, and called the attention of
their own Ministers, who were in attendance, to the obvious necessity
for England to look more sharply to her coast and naval defences.
How thankful Her Majesty must have been when the end of each day’s
festivity was reached! Even in the diary the mere words form a little
oasis, “At twenty minutes to ten we went below, and read and nearly
finished that most interesting book, ‘Jane Eyre.’”
The alarm felt by the Queen and Prince as to the hostile intentions of
Louis Napoleon towards England were fully shared by the nation. After
the attempt by Orsini, early in 1858, to assassinate the Emperor by the
explosion of bombs under his carriage as it was approaching the Opera
House, England was accused of having harbored the conspirators, and
with having thereby encouraged their crime. It was true that Orsini
had come direct from England, and though this did not make England
responsible for him, yet some irritation on the part of France was
quite excusable. This expression of irritation, however, passed all
reasonable bounds. The Emperor received a large number of addresses
from Colonels in the French army congratulating him on his escape; and
these addresses, which were published at full in the official organ
of the French Government, were, in many instances, full of clamorous
demands for war with England. One of these effusions spoke of England
as “the land of impurity, which contains the haunts of monsters which
are sheltered by its laws;” another requested the Emperor to give the
word, and the “infamous haunt in which machinations so infernal are
planned”--that is, London--“should be destroyed forever.”
England’s answer was the Volunteer movement, and the dismissal from
office of Lord Palmerston’s Government, because it was believed to have
been too subservient to the demands of France.
The series of events of 1857 and 1858 were a very curious episode
in our political history. The general election of 1857 had been in
the nature of a personal triumph for Palmerston. The cry had been
“Palmerston, and nothing but Palmerston;” and he had carried everything
before him. Within the ranks of the Liberal party all his leading
opponents, Bright and Cobden representing the Manchester School,
lost their seats. But in less than a year the seemingly all-powerful
Minister was defeated because he had not maintained with sufficient
dignity the honor and independence of England. “Old Civis Romanus,”
as he had been nicknamed, was said to have retreated ignominiously;
the British Lion was depicted with his tail between his legs. There
was a strong outburst of dissatisfaction; for once Palmerston had not
been sufficiently pugnacious: his Government was swept away, and was
replaced by that of Lord Derby.
The Queen and Prince from the first took an immense interest in the
Volunteers; they had always anxiously watched the relatively small
military strength of England, and had urged on successive Governments
the overwhelming importance of not allowing it to sink to a level
incompatible with national security. The spontaneous growth of a
great service for internal defence gave them, therefore, peculiar
satisfaction, as affording evidence that at heart the spirit of the
country was as sound as it had been in the days of the Armada. The
Queen reviewed the English Volunteers in Hyde Park in June, 1860. The
cheering was so tremendous that Her Majesty was quite overcome. She
inaugurated the National Rifle Association in the following month; and
she reviewed the Scottish Volunteers on Arthur’s Seat in August of the
same year.
It was a splendid sight; 22,000 magnificent men, the flower of a hardy
and spirited race; the surrounding amphitheatre of the hillside crowded
with a cheering multitude: no wonder that the Queen was thrilled with
pride and thankfulness. The Duchess of Kent was with her daughter; the
Queen writes that she was so delighted, “dear mamma could be present
at this memorable and never-to-be-forgotten occasion.” It was the last
time they were together at any public ceremonial.
Lord Tennyson interpreted the national feeling by his song, “Riflemen,
form!” and the lines--
“True, we have got _such_ a faithful ally
That only the Devil can tell what he means”--
exactly describe the sentiments of most Englishmen towards Louis
Napoleon. It was said that a foreigner expressed surprise at the
military spirit displayed at one of these Volunteer reviews, and said
he had understood that the English were a nation of shopkeepers. A
jolly countryman replied, “So they are, Moosoo; and these are the boys
that keep the shop!”
The Volunteer movement has proved no mere flash in the pan, caused by a
sudden explosion of passing irritation. It has grown and strengthened,
and now, after twenty-six years of existence, it adds more than 200,000
men to the internal defences of the country. The annual meeting of the
National Rifle Association has furnished proof to the world that the
Volunteer force contains a body of skilled marksmen, who, under able
generalship, might turn the scale in many a battle.