TROUBLES IN THE STATE, AND HAPPINESS AT HOME.
Growing Unpopularity of the Melbourne Administration--The Stockdale
Case--Approaching Fall of the Government--Financial
Embarrassments--Lord John Russell’s Proposal with Respect to the
Corn Laws--Defeat of the Ministry--General Election, and
Conservative Majority--Views of Prince Albert--Settlement of the
“Bedchamber” Question--Wise Counsel of the Prince and Baron
Stockmar--Visits of the Queen to Places of Interest--Troublesome
Loyalty--Launch of the _Trafalgar_--The Melbourne Government and
Free Trade--Speech from the Throne on the Meeting of the New
Parliament--Vote of Want of Confidence in the
Government--Resignation of Ministers--Final Years of Lord
Melbourne--Formation and Chief Objects of Sir Robert Peel’s
Administration--The High Church Movement in England--Disruption of
the Church of Scotland--Lord Melbourne’s Opinion of Prince
Albert--Sir Robert Peel and the Prince--Public Appearances of the
Latter in Connection with Social and Artistic Questions--Birth and
Christening of the Prince of Wales--Meeting of Parliament for the
Session of 1842--Splendid Festivities at Court--Attempts of Francis
and Bean to Shoot her Majesty.
As the year 1841 advanced, the Melbourne Ministry, which had never
occupied a strong position since the General Election of 1837, grew
weaker and weaker. In many respects, the Government was a good one. It
carried through some excellent reforms, and was for the most part
animated by a liberal and benevolent spirit. Yet its administrative
powers were faulty; it was repeatedly falling into awkward blunders; it
was afflicted with continual deficits; it was unpopular, and it
contrived to draw the Queen herself into the orbit of its own disfavour.
Education was advanced, though in a very hesitating and tentative
fashion; colonisation was promoted; some of the most elementary rights
of married women were recognised by statute; the poor climbing-boys, as
we have seen, were protected from the cruelty of being compelled to
ascend chimneys; the Postal system was reformed; many other things were
at least attempted. But people could not forget the mistakes and
shortcomings of the Ministry, nor regard with enthusiasm a body of
statesmen who often moved with reluctance, and sometimes moved not at
all; who had a certain facility in offending others, and yet depended
for their official existence on the precarious support of their
opponents. As if to make matters worse, they got into a controversy with
the law-courts, in consequence of an action brought by a publisher named
Stockdale against the Messrs. Hansard, printers to the House of Commons,
for issuing, in 1836, certain Reports on Prisons, one of which contained
serious reflections on the plaintiff. The Court of Queen’s Bench gave
judgment in favour of Stockdale; the Government and the House of Commons
championed the printers; a good deal of unseemly action and
counteraction took place; and at length, in the spring of 1840, the
matter was settled by a Bill affording summary protection to all persons
employed in the publication of Parliamentary papers. In their main
contention, Ministers were probably right; but they conducted the
dispute in a rather undignified manner, and the feeling of the public
generally was very much against them.
The successes of the British fleet in the East, during the autumn of
1840, did little to restore the credit of the Melbourne Administration.
In 1841, everything prefigured an approaching change; yet the Government
clung to office with the utmost tenacity. Parliament was opened by the
Queen in person on the 26th of January; and in a little while the Budget
of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. Baring, disclosed a deficit of
nearly two millions. It was thought to fill the gap by alterations in
the timber and sugar duties (from which Mr. Baring hoped to obtain an
increase of £1,300,000), and by whatever might accrue from Lord John
Russell’s contemplated modification of the Corn Laws. The House of
Commons, however, rejected the proposals of the Finance Minister by a
majority of 36 in a House of 598 members. Most people thought that after
this the Government must needs resign. But, Lord John Russell having
already given notice of his intention to move for a committee of the
whole House, to consider the state of legislation with regard to the
trade in corn, it was determined to try this last chance. The plan was
to propose a fixed duty of eight shillings a quarter on wheat, and at
the same time to diminish the rates on rye, barley, and oats. But the
patience of the Opposition was now worn out. On the 24th of May, Sir
Robert Peel gave notice of a motion to the effect that the Government
had lost the confidence of the House of Commons, and that their
continuance in office under such circumstances was at variance with the
spirit of the Constitution. This was brought forward on the 27th of the
same month; and the debates, after lasting several nights, came to a
conclusion on the 4th of June, when 312 voted in favour of the motion,
and 311 against. Government was thus left in a minority of one, and Lord
John Russell promised to state, at the next meeting of Parliament, what
course her Majesty’s Ministers were prepared to adopt. In the meanwhile,
he intimated the withdrawal of his motion on the subject of the Corn
Laws. On the 7th of June, he announced the intention of the Ministry to
advise the dissolution of Parliament. The General Election took place
during the summer, and the Conservatives obtained a large majority.
Lord Melbourne had long foreseen the ruin of the Ministry, and probably
he secretly rejoiced at his approaching release from a task which had
manifestly become hopeless. Before Baron Stockmar again left England, in
the early part of 1841, the Premier told that distinguished German that
his Cabinet was exposed to all sorts of dangers, and that he saw no
guarantee for its stability. He conversed much with Prince Albert, and
was most anxious that the Queen should communicate to his Royal Highness
everything connected with public affairs. Writing to his father, in
April, 1841, the Prince observes:--“I study the politics of the day with
great industry. I speak quite openly with the Ministers on all subjects,
so as to gain information, and I endeavour quietly to be of as much use
to Victoria in her position as I can.” He saw that Sir Robert Peel would
soon be again called upon to form a Ministry; he knew that an unpleasant
incident had occurred on a similar occasion in 1839; and he felt that
the recurrence of any such catastrophe should by all means be avoided.
There must be no second collision between the sovereign and a leading
statesman on a matter so unimportant from one point of view, yet so
important from another, as the position of a few Bedchamber women.
Prince Albert therefore brought the subject under the notice of Lord
Melbourne, and remarked that he was naturally in a state of some
uneasiness at the probable course of events; that his sole anxiety was
that the Queen should act constitutionally, and with more general
applause than on the previous occasion; that it was his duty, and Lord
Melbourne’s also, to prepare her Majesty for possible eventualities; and
that an agreement ought to be arrived at, as to what she should do under
the circumstances.[12] The Prime Minister assented to these views, and
it was settled that, should there be a change of Ministry, the Queen
would arrange that those of her ladies should retire of their own accord
whose removal might be requested by the in-coming Cabinet, on account of
their relationship to leaders of the Whig party. It was the view of
Prince Albert, and also of Lord Melbourne, that Sir Robert Peel should
be previously consulted. Negotiations were accordingly opened with that
statesman, through the medium of the Prince’s secretary, Mr. Anson; and
when Sir Robert accepted office soon afterwards, the Duchesses of
Bedford and Sutherland, and Lady Normanby, relinquished their posts.[13]
The time was one of great trial for the Queen; but she had now always at
her side an adviser of much discrimination, of excellent sense, and of
the highest honour. “Albert,” wrote her Majesty, about this period, to
her uncle, the King of the Belgians, “is indeed a great comfort to me.
He takes the greatest, possible interest in what goes on, feeling with
me and for me, and yet abstaining
[Illustration: HATFIELD HOUSE.]
as he ought, from biassing me either way, though we talk much on the
subject, and his judgment is, as you say, good and calm.” The Prince, in
his turn, had an invaluable guide in Baron Stockmar, who frequently
corresponded with him. In a letter written from Coburg on the 18th of
May, 1841, the Baron says:--“If things come to a change of Ministry,
then the great axiom, irrefragably one and the same for all Ministries,
is this, namely, the Crown supports frankly, honourably, and with all
its might, the Ministry of the time, whatever it be, so long as it
commands a majority, and governs with integrity for the welfare and
advancement of the country. A king who, as a Constitutional king, either
cannot or will not carry this maxim into practice, deliberately descends
from the lofty pedestal on which the Constitution has placed him to the
lower one of a mere party chief. Be you, therefore, the Constitutional
genius of the Queen. Do not content yourself with merely whispering this
maxim in her ear when circumstances serve, but strive also to carry it
out into practice, at the right time, and by the worthiest means.”
[Illustration: THE QUEEN AT THE LAUNCH OF THE “TRAFALGAR.”]
While awaiting the political crisis which every one saw could not be
long in coming, the Queen and Prince Albert made several interesting
excursions to various places in the country, such as Nuneham, Oxford,
Woburn Abbey, Panshanger, Brocket Hall (the seat of Lord Melbourne), and
Hatfield. On these occasions, the Royal party were very well received by
the country people, though the Queen, in her “Journal,” rather complains
of the crowding and pressing, and of the dust raised by the mounted
farmers who, in their well-meant but somewhat inconvenient loyalty,
furnished supplementary escorts. Englishmen, of course, are not to
expect the privileges of a more favoured race, and southern roads are
naturally more dusty than northern moorlands. But her Majesty was not
much offended, and speaks of the people as “good” and “loyal,” though,
it would seem, a little troublesome. Among the places visited was the
seat of the Duke of Devonshire at Chiswick; and on the 21st of June the
Queen and Prince Albert went to see the _Trafalgar_ launched at
Woolwich. At the request of her Majesty, the vessel was named by Lady
Bridport, a niece of Lord Nelson, and the wine used was a portion of
that taken from the great Admiral’s flag-ship, _Victory_, after the
battle of Trafalgar. Out of the five hundred people on board at the time
of the launch, no fewer than one hundred had taken part in the
ever-memorable action, and the scene altogether was of the most
impressive kind. In a letter to his father, written on the following
day, Prince Albert said that this was the most imposing sight he could
remember. There were about five hundred thousand people present, the
Thames being covered for miles with ships, steamers, barges, and boats.
The Melbourne Ministry, while struggling for existence to the very last,
had contrived to offend both parties in the State by its
half-heartedness. The lowering of the duties on cereals was to some
extent a concession to the Free Trade party; but it did not go far
enough to satisfy them, while at the same time it alarmed the
agricultural interest. On the whole, it appeared as if the Government
were gradually abandoning the Protective system, although, no farther
back than 1839, Lord Melbourne had declared in the House of Lords that
“the repeal of the Corn Laws would be the most insane proposition that
ever entered the human head.” Even Lord John Russell, who was much more
a reformer than his chief, had very recently spoken of Free Trade in
anything but respectful terms. Indeed, the Ministerial Whigs generally
were disinclined to adopt the opinions of Mr. Villiers and Mr. Cobden;
yet, in the early summer of 1841, they showed a remarkable tendency to
advance in that direction. In the debate on the Sugar Duties, Lord
Palmerston, referring to what were now considered the necessary measures
for relieving British trade from the encumbrances which had hampered it,
observed, in a spirit of political prophecy:--“I will venture to predict
that, although our opponents may resist those measures to-night, for the
sake of obtaining a majority in the division, yet, if they should come
into office, those are the measures which a just regard for the finances
and commerce of the country will compel them to propose.” All this was a
movement in the right direction; yet people would not believe in its
sincerity. They said it was only a trick to obtain votes, and to stave
off a little while longer the inevitable downfall. Probably they were
right. At any rate, their views prevailed at the General Election.
On the 15th of July, about the close of the Elections, Lord Melbourne
reported to the Queen that the Conservatives would have a majority of
seventy. In point of fact, it amounted to seventy-six, and even Lord
John Russell preserved his seat for the City of London by so bare a
success that, of the four members, he obtained the smallest number of
votes, and narrowly escaped defeat. On the meeting of the new
Parliament, which was on the 24th of August, the Royal Speech (read by
Commission) contained the following significant passage:--“Her Majesty
is desirous that you should consider the laws which regulate the trade
in corn. It will be for you to determine whether these laws do not
aggravate the natural fluctuation of supply; whether they do not
embarrass trade, derange the currency, and, by their operation, diminish
the comfort and increase the privation of the great body of the
community.” Amendments to the Address, however, were carried in both
Houses by large majorities. These amendments pointed to the continued
excess of expenditure over income, and declared that nothing could be
done while the Government did not possess the confidence of the House or
of the country. The adoption of the amendments could, of course, produce
only one result. Everybody knew that the fate of the Melbourne
Administration would be sealed as soon as Parliament met, and, now that
an adverse vote had been carried, nothing remained but to resign. In her
reply to the Address, the Queen expressed satisfaction at the spirit in
which Parliament proposed to deliberate on the matters she had
recommended to them, and said in conclusion:--“Ever anxious to listen to
the advice of my Parliament, I will take immediate measures for the
formation of a new Administration.” On the night of the day when this
message was sent to Parliament, the resignation of Ministers was
announced to both Houses. Three days later--namely, on the 2nd of
September--the Queen spent her last evening with the ladies of the
Household who, by a political necessity, were now forced to retire. The
dinner was a sad and silent one, and it is reported that tears were
shed. Her Majesty had contracted a sincere friendship for these ladies;
through all the years of her reign she had leant for support on the
Ministers to whom they were related; and it was natural, even
commendable, that deep regret should be both felt and shown. On the
other hand, it was impossible for Sir Robert Peel to carry on his
Government with such an adverse influence at head-quarters; and personal
considerations were forced to give way before others of greater
importance.
After his resignation of office in the late summer of 1841, Lord
Melbourne disappears almost entirely from the history and politics of
England. He had always been a somewhat indolent man, or at any rate a
man with no devouring passion for work, no insatiable ambition of
towering above his fellow-men. Moreover, he was now getting elderly,
and there had been much in the last few years to make him weary of
political distinction. Having ceased to be a Minister of the Crown, he
turned his position as a member of the House of Lords to but little
account. Casting the load of politics from his shoulders, for which, in
[Illustration: SIR ROBERT PEEL.]
spite of his long official experience, he seems never to have had any
warm regard, he passed the remainder of his days as a sort of recluse,
fond of literature, and disposed to fleet away the time in studies which
were elegant rather than profound. He had long been a widower; his only
child, a son, had some years before died unmarried at the early age of
twenty-nine; and the broken statesman had now few companions of a very
intimate character. Whether his latter years were as lonely as some have
represented, may be doubtful; but it is too likely that they were not
cheered by the highest or the best kind of social intercourse. He died
on the 24th of November, 1848, a little under seventy years of age; and
the title soon afterwards became extinct. Whatever his faults, it is
generally acknowledged that Lord Melbourne had many amiable qualities.
But his position in the history of England, though in some respects
interesting, can never be regarded as illustrious.
In the new Administration, Sir Robert Peel was First Lord of the
Treasury, Lord Lyndhurst Lord High Chancellor, Sir James Graham Home
Secretary, Mr. Goulburn Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Earl of
Aberdeen Foreign Secretary, Lord Stanley Secretary for the Colonies, Sir
Henry Hardinge Secretary
[Illustration: MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD, FROM THE CHERWELL.]
at War, Lord Ellenborough President of the Board of Control, and the
Duke of Wellington leader of the House of Lords, without office. These
were the principal appointments, and they constituted a Government of
considerable ability. The chief strength of the new Cabinet, however,
lay in Sir Robert Peel himself. During his former short-lived
Government, in 1834-5, he had combined the functions of First Lord of
the Treasury and Chancellor of the Exchequer. It was hoped that this
arrangement would now be repeated; but the inferior office, as we have
seen, was conferred on Mr. Goulburn. Still, it was well known that Peel
would be the directing financial genius of the Administration. His
abilities as a financier were generally admitted, and have probably
never been surpassed. If the country was to be dragged out of the abyss
of its ever-increasing embarrassments, Peel was the man most likely to
perform the feat. But the deficit was alarming, and, shortly after the
reassembling of Parliament, the Chancellor of the Exchequer said he must
ask for a vote of £2,500,000, adding that he would in time state how he
proposed to meet the existing deficiency. In the meanwhile, the distress
of the working classes was becoming every day more intense, and in the
manufacturing districts great dissatisfaction was expressed that Sir
Robert Peel not only refused to adopt Free Trade in its integrity, but
even repudiated Lord John Russell’s project for a small fixed duty upon
corn. Peel favoured what was known in those days as the Sliding Scale,
by which foreign wheat was allowed to be imported at a variable
duty,--greater when the price of home-grown wheat was low, and lower
when the price was high. The truth is that neither the Whigs nor the
Tories had made up their minds to accept the principles of Free Trade,
while both sought to postpone the threatened day by contrivances more or
less objectionable, and more or less futile. But the General Election
had returned to Parliament a man who in the course of a few years was to
carry the Free Trade banner triumphantly on to the Treasury benches
themselves. Richard Cobden now sat for the first time in Parliament, and
his “unadorned eloquence,” as Peel afterwards called it, was soon to
produce an immense effect upon the minds of those who heard him.
Among the many sources of agitation existing at that time, none was more
remarkable, or in some respects more important, than the High Church
movement, which had originated several years before, but which in 1841
was beginning to assume grave proportions. This turmoil of the religious
mind had first shown itself in the University of Oxford towards the
latter end of the reign of George IV. A number of enthusiastic young
students--men of great mental power, and of unquestionable
sincerity--began to be dissatisfied with the position, doctrine, and
ceremonial of the Church for which they were being prepared, or which
they had already entered. They considered that that Church had abnegated
some of its most valuable functions; that it was lax in its ideas,
somnolent in its teaching, forgetful of tradition, slovenly in its
ritual, and indifferent to its authoritative powers. There had in truth
been a good deal of dull and formal worldly-mindedness amongst the
clergy for the last hundred years; but it must not be forgotten that
this period of repose had had inestimable advantages in the softening of
dogma, the development of toleration, and the growth of independent
thought. To the Oxford ecclesiologists, however, these very
circumstances were amongst the heaviest indictments which they brought
against the Church as it was then constituted. They had grand visions of
Apostolical succession, and certainly suggested, if they did not
precisely state, that no one would be entitled to differ from the
Church, if the Church were only reformed according to their ideas.
Curious inquirers trace back the beginning of this movement to the
lectures of Bishop Lloyd on the Prayer Book and the Council of Trent,
which were delivered when he was Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford,
about 1823. But, whatever impulse he may have given to subsequent
speculations, Dr. Lloyd does not appear among the leaders of the great
movement which afterwards shook the religious world of England to its
centre. Those leaders were the Rev. John Keble, author of “The Christian
Year,” and Fellow of Oriel; the Rev. J. H. Newman (now Cardinal Newman);
the Rev. Richard Hurrell Froude (who, with Newman, was also a Fellow of
Oriel); the Rev. E. B. Pusey, Regius Professor of Hebrew, and Canon of
Christchurch; and the Rev. Isaac Williams, Fellow of Trinity, and author
of “The Cathedral, and Other Poems.” Cambridge contributed the services
of the Rev. Hugh Rose; but, on the whole, the sister University was
little affected by the new ideas.
The founders of the modern High Church were not long in using the press
as the most effectual method of propagating their opinions. They issued
a series of papers called “Tracts for the Times,” of which ninety
numbers were published between the years 1833 and 1841; and articles to
the same effect were also published in the _British Critic_. These
manifestoes produced an extraordinary effect on a large portion of the
clergy, and a certain number of the laity; but at the same time they
aroused the bitterest opposition amongst numerous classes of churchmen
and churchgoers. It was alleged that some of the most distinctive
doctrines of the Romish Church were ostentatiously paraded by the
reformers as irrefragable and indispensable doctrines of the English
Church; though, in some instances at least, these doctrines might be
fairly inferred from the Articles and the Prayer Book. What perhaps gave
more offence than anything else was the scorn and hatred with which the
Tractarians, as they were soon called, repudiated the word “Protestant,”
as if it necessarily involved the most detestable of heresies. They
called themselves “Anglicans,” and would admit no other description. The
most bigoted of Romish divines could hardly have regarded Luther with
greater dislike than was manifested by the more extreme members of the
school. The days of the Reformation were stigmatised by High Church
enthusiasts as days of degradation and wickedness, and every form of
Dissent was an invention of the devil. All these vagaries induced many
persons, who argued rather through the medium of their alarm and anger
than by means of their reason, to believe that the Tractarians were
consciously and designedly preparing the way for a return to Roman
Catholicism. With some, indeed--notably with Mr. J. H. Newman--this was
the actual result of their speculations. But, as a body, the High
Churchmen had no such intention. They had not the slightest wish to
subject their Church to the orders of an Italian priest holding his
court at Rome. What they really desired was to subject the whole of
England--the State as well as the individual--to their conceptions of
ecclesiastical predominance.
Most of the younger clergymen fell in with the Tractarian movement, as
young men are generally disposed to fall in with anything new. A spirit
of revivalism spread over the land. The writings of the Fathers, the
ancient liturgies of the early Christian Church, the history and
traditions of the Church in all ages, the lives of saints, the mediæval
books of devotion and morals--all
[Illustration: JOHN KEBLE.]
these were diligently disinterred from dusty shelves where they had long
slumbered, and studied in the belief that they would shed a new and
divine light on modern troubles and perplexities. Gothic architecture
and art, of a purer type than had been known for nearly five hundred
years, were cultivated as a means of influencing the public mind in
favour of the strictest ecclesiasticism. Symbolical forms were
interpreted in a deeply mystical sense, and gradually the conceptions of
the reformers began to find their way, not merely into the churches, but
into general literature, especially into poetry of a tender and
emotional order. Then arose the battle of surplices, intonings, candles,
and altars, which at first shocked, and afterwards exasperated, the
average Englishman. It must be admitted, however, that the arguments of
the Tractarians had sometimes an apparent cogency, which produced a
great effect on such as were already half-disposed to be convinced. They
urged with no little plausibility that the subjection of Church doctrine
to the decision of a Lord Chancellor who might be a free-thinker, or a
man of questionable life, was an absurdity and a scandal. But this was
simply an argument against the existence of a State Church, and in that
sense it was not put forth. If the Church is united with the State, it
must be either as master or servant. To adopt the homely phrase of
Dogberry, “An
[Illustration: JOHN HENRY NEWMAN.
(_From a Photograph by H. J. Whitlock, Birmingham._)]
two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind;” and it is in the highest
degree improbable that Englishmen will ever again consent to “ride
behind” any ecclesiastical corporation in the world. Still, we may grant
this truth without denying the earnestness, devotion, and moral purity
of the Tractarians--qualities which have borne good fruit, and which
will be remembered to their credit when Time has obliterated their
follies.
[Illustration: ST. MARY’S, FROM THE HIGH STREET, OXFORD.]
In the early part of 1841, Mr. Newman published the celebrated “Tract
No. 90,” the object of which was to show that subscription to the
Thirty-nine Articles need not deter a man from holding various doctrines
which are commonly regarded as Romish. This was going a little too far
for the patience of the authorities, and, on the 15th of March, the
Vice-Chancellor and heads of houses at Oxford censured the offending
Tract, in a resolution which set forth--“That modes of interpretation
such as are suggested in the said Tract, evading rather than explaining
the sense of the Thirty-nine Articles, and reconciling subscription to
them with the adoption of errors which they were designed to counteract,
defeat the object, and are inconsistent with the due observance, of the
statutes of the University.” Next day, Mr. Newman addressed a letter to
the Vice-Chancellor, acknowledging himself as the author of the Tract.
Some time after, he resigned the Vicarage of St. Mary’s, Oxford, and in
1845 he seceded to the Church of Rome. There cannot be a doubt that in
his earlier years he had no intention of quitting the Church of England.
Throughout the whole of his career, he has been thoroughly honest,
conscientious, and self-devoted; but he has a mind of the acutest
logical perceptions, and ultimately, though with great distress to
himself, he came to the conclusion that the legitimate development of
his opinions conducted him to Rome, and nowhere else. This conclusion
being reached, he was not the man to tamper with his innermost
convictions. His retirement from the Tractarian field concentrated
additional power in the hands of the Rev. Mr. Pusey, who had long been
the chief leader of the movement. Indeed, the very word “Puseyism”
attests the depth and breadth of his influence.
It is no secret that neither the Queen nor Prince Albert liked the
extreme views of the Tractarians, but would have preferred a broader and
more liberal interpretation of Church doctrines. But the movement was of
course entirely independent of Royal influences, and the time was one of
awakened enthusiasm in all matters appertaining to religion. In
Scotland, as in England, men’s minds were being agitated by conflicting
views as to the proper character of a Church; and the dispute at the
North terminated in a disruption of an important nature. A party had
arisen in the Kirk of Scotland which desired, like the Tractarians in
the Church of England, to emancipate the religious body from the control
of the State in all matters of doctrine and discipline; but this was no
easy task. An Act of Parliament had been passed in 1712, which subjected
the power of the Presbytery to the control of the law-courts. Until
then, the appointment of pastors had been with the Church-courts of
Scotland; but now the minister was in many instances nominated by a lay
patron, and the Presbytery thereupon admitted him as a matter of course,
unless there was some flagrant objection which could not be evaded or
overcome. The popular element in the Scottish Kirk was thus subordinated
to aristocratic influence, and in time many sincere members of that body
were so much disgusted as to secede from the Established Church, and
form separate communions of their own. Matters had reached such a pass
by 1834, when the “Evangelical,” as opposed to the “Moderate,” party had
obtained the upper hand, that the General Assembly of the Kirk affirmed
the right of each congregation to exercise a veto on any presentee, in
accordance with a fundamental law of the Church, “that no pastor should
be intruded on any congregation contrary to the will of the people.”
This was the celebrated Veto Law, which soon became the subject of much
controversy. The lay patrons, finding themselves deprived of what they
considered their rights, resisted the ruling of the General Assembly,
and appealed to the law-courts. Sometimes the decision was in favour of
the one party, sometimes of the other; and at length the Strathbogie
case brought the law-courts and the General Assembly into open conflict.
The Presbytery of Strathbogie supported a certain minister who, in 1837,
had been nominated for the parish of Marnoch. The General Assembly
issued its edict that the minister was to be rejected. The majority of
the local Presbytery still continuing defiant, seven of their number
were, by the General Assembly, finally expelled from their places in the
ministry on the 7th of May, 1841; and, from that time forward, Dr.
Chalmers, who had moved their expulsion, became the great leader of the
reforming party. The controversy went on with increasing bitterness; the
decisions of the Court of Session, upheld by the House of Lords,
completely over-ruled the decisions of the General Assembly of the Kirk;
and, on the 18th of May, 1843, nearly five hundred ministers of the
Church of Scotland, under the leadership of their distinguished and
eloquent champion, seceded from the Establishment, and began what is
called the Free Church of Scotland. These ministers had no quarrel with
the older body on matters of doctrine; but they would not submit to the
dictation of lay patrons, or the control of the law-courts. Such, in
brief, is the history of this memorable revolt.
In the midst of so many perplexities, it was fortunate for the new
Government, and also for the Queen herself, that they had an
intermediary so highly qualified to fill the part as Prince Albert. In
resigning the seals of office, Lord Melbourne felt that he left her
Majesty in safe hands. He confessed that it was very painful to him to
bid farewell to his Royal mistress. For four years, he remarked, he had
seen her every day; but he added that it was now different from what it
would have been in 1839. The Prince, he observed, understood everything,
and had a clever, able head. Again, on the following day, when taking
his final leave of her Majesty, he said:--“You will find a great support
in the Prince; he is so able. You said, when you were going to be
married, that he was perfection, which I thought a little exaggerated
then, but really I think now that it is in some degree realised.” In
commenting on these opinions in her “Journal,” the Queen
writes:--“Nothing could exceed the Prince’s kindness to the Queen at
this (for her) trying time of separation from her old friend;” and in a
letter to King Leopold she quotes the following written opinion of Lord
Melbourne on his Royal Highness:--“Lord Melbourne cannot satisfy himself
without again stating to your Majesty in writing what he had the honour
of saying to your Majesty respecting his Royal Highness the Prince. Lord
Melbourne has formed the highest opinion of his Royal Highness’s
judgment, temper, and discretion; and he cannot but feel a great
consideration and security that he leaves your Majesty in a situation in
which your Majesty has the inestimable advantage of such advice and
assistance. Lord Melbourne feels certain that your Majesty cannot do
better than have recourse to it whenever it is needed, and rely upon it
with confidence.”
It was natural, and inevitable that Lord Melbourne should feel a deep
regret in parting from her Majesty after so long an association. It was
equally natural that Sir Robert Peel should approach the Court with
something of nervous apprehension. He had opposed the Queen’s wishes
with respect to the Ladies of the Bedchamber; shortly afterwards, he had
been mainly instrumental in procuring the curtailment of the Prince’s
income. Nevertheless, he was received by the Prince with an unaffected
cordiality which immediately put him at his ease. Like Lord Melbourne,
he soon formed a very high opinion of his Royal Highness’s abilities,
and the new Minister was as willing as the old to keep the Prince well
acquainted with the development of the national affairs. He was also
desirous to take advantage of the Prince’s known proficiency in art, by
placing him at the head of a Royal Commission to inquire whether the
rebuilding of the Houses of Parliament did not offer a fitting occasion
to promote
[Illustration: KING LEOPOLD.]
and encourage the Fine Arts in the United Kingdom. The position was
accepted by his Royal Highness; and when Sir Robert Peel announced the
fact to the House of Commons, he was gratified to witness (as he
afterwards reported) the cordial satisfaction with which the intimation
was received in every quarter. Prince Albert had very properly made it a
condition of his accepting the chairmanship of this body that in the
selection of its members there should be an entire exclusion of all
party distinctions. The principle was carefully observed, and the
noblemen and gentlemen thus brought together were appointed with the
single consideration of their fitness. This was the first of those
numerous services to intellectual culture which Prince Albert rendered
to his adopted country. He had now acquired an almost perfect command of
English, though, when he came over to be married, in the early part of
1840, he knew but little of the language. The first of his speeches in
public, however, had been delivered as early as the 1st of June, 1840,
at a meeting to promote the Abolition of the Slave Trade. The speech was
brief, carefully written beforehand, and committed
[Illustration: ST. GEORGE’S CHAPEL, WINDSOR.]
to memory; but the Prince was naturally very nervous in delivering it.
On the 25th of June, 1841, he laid the foundation-stone of the London
Porters’ Association; so that he was now coming out into the light of
publicity, to an extent from which he at first shrank, feeling himself a
stranger in a strange land, and not being very confident as to the
cordiality of the general sentiment. His acceptance, in October, of the
Chairmanship of the Fine Arts Commission was another step forward in the
direction to which he had recently been turning his thoughts. For
several years, Prince Albert did admirable service in educating the
English mind to a higher sense of artistic beauty; and, in the fulness
of time, the suggestion of Sir Robert Peel bore more ample fruits than
he himself could have anticipated.
On the 9th of November, 1841, the Prince of Wales was born at Buckingham
Palace. As on the occasion of her previous confinement, the Queen
recovered rapidly, and was able to celebrate the first anniversary of
the Princess Royal’s birth on the 21st of the same month. On the 6th of
December, the Court removed to Windsor Castle. Addressing the King of
the Belgians on the 14th of December, her Majesty wrote:--“We must all
have trials and vexations; but if one’s home is happy, then the rest is
comparatively nothing. I assure you, dear uncle, that no one feels this
more than I do. I had this autumn one of the severest trials I could
have in parting with my Government, and particularly from our kind and
valued friend, and I feel even now this last very much; but my happiness
at home, the love of my husband, his kindness, his advice, his support,
and his company, make up for all, and make me forget it.” Christmas was
again spent at Windsor, and the New Year was danced in after a very
jovial fashion. While the dance was yet proceeding, the clock struck
twelve, and at the last stroke a flourish of trumpets was blown,
according to the German custom. The Queen records in her “Journal” that
this peal of instruments had a very grand and solemn effect, and that it
caused a sudden agitation in Prince Albert, who turned pale, while the
tears started to his eyes. He was thinking of his native country and his
early days.
Shortly after the birth of the young Prince--namely, on the 4th of
December, 1841--the Queen created him, by Letters Patent, Prince of
Wales and Earl of Chester. The Letters Patent went on to say:--“And him,
our said and most dear son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great
Britain and Ireland, as has been accustomed, we do ennoble and invest
with the said Principality and Earldom, by girding him with a sword, by
putting a coronet on his head and a gold ring on his finger, and also by
delivering a gold rod into his hand, that he may preside there, and
direct and defend those parts.” By the fact of his birth as
heir-apparent, the Prince inherited, without the necessity of patent or
creation, the dignities and titles of Duke of Saxony, by right of his
father, and, by right of his mother, those of Duke of Cornwall, Duke of
Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, and
Great Steward of Scotland.
The christening of the Prince of Wales took place on the 25th of
January, 1842, in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor. In the midst of great
pomp and splendour, the ceremony was performed by the Archbishop of
Canterbury with water specially brought from the river Jordan. The
sponsors were the late King of Prussia (Frederick William IV.); the
Duchess of Saxe-Coburg, represented by the Duchess of Kent; the Duke of
Cambridge; the Duchess of Saxe-Gotha, represented by the Duchess of
Cambridge; the Princess Sophia, represented by the Princess Augusta of
Cambridge; and Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg. King Frederick William
was chosen as being the ruler of the chief Protestant kingdom on the
Continent; but the leading politicians of Germany, France, and Russia,
saw in the selection a degree of political significance which was
doubtless entirely absent. Some among the Prussians themselves feared
that the King would take advantage of his presence in England to effect
that Anglicanising of the Prussian Church which was dear to his heart.
When his Majesty arrived in England, however, he proved to be nothing
more than a stout, middle-aged gentleman, who could tell a good story
very well, and who even consented to dance a quadrille with the Queen,
though his person was little suited to such exercises, and his time of
life was hardly favourable to their graceful performance. The names
given to the infant Prince at his christening were Albert Edward. At the
conclusion of the ceremony, a silver-embossed vessel, containing a whole
hogshead of mulled claret, was brought in, and served out liberally to
the company, that the health of the Prince might be drunk with due
honour.
Before his departure, the King of Prussia attended the meeting of
Parliament on the 3rd of February, 1842. An admirable description of
this ceremony is given in a letter by the Baroness Bunsen, an English
lady married to the celebrated Prussian scholar, at that time Ambassador
to the Court of St. James’s. This lady speaks of the Queen as being
“worthy and fit to be the converging point of so many rays of grandeur;”
and she adds that “the composure with which she filled the throne, while
awaiting the Commons, was a test of character--no fidget, and no
apathy.... Placed in a narrow space behind her Majesty’s mace-bearers,
and peeping over their shoulders, I was enabled to hide and subdue the
emotion I felt, in consciousness of the mighty pages in the world’s
history condensed in the words so impressively uttered in the silver
tones of that feminine voice--Peace and War, the fate of millions,
relations of countries, exertions of power felt to the extremities of
the globe, alterations of Corn Laws, the birth of a future sovereign,
mentioned in solemn thankfulness to Him in whose hands are nations and
rulers!”
These were the serious sides of royalty; but the young Queen, and her
equally young husband, were not indifferent to the lighter graces of
their position. A splendid new ball-room was added to Buckingham Palace,
and a number of brilliant entertainments took place in that magnificent
saloon. A _bal costumé_, on the 12th of May, 1842, is believed to have
been the first ever given in England by a member of the House of
Brunswick. On this occasion, her Majesty appeared as Queen Philippa,
consort of Edward III., and Prince Albert as Edward III. himself. The
Duchess of Cambridge was received in State as Anne of Brittany,
accompanied by her Court; and, after dancing had been enjoyed for some
hours, supper was served with surroundings of remarkable splendour. The
salvers, vases, tankards, and jewelled cups, are described by writers of
the period as of unusual cost and richness. A tent belonging to Tippoo
Sahib was erected within the Corinthian portico adjoining the green
drawing-room, and in the course of the evening this Oriental pavilion
was used as a place for refreshment. Later in the season, a second ball
of a similar character was given by her Majesty, in which the dresses
were confined to the reigns of George II. and III. A grand banquet at
Windsor Castle on the Ascot Cup day appears also to have been
conspicuous for its lavish splendour. Luncheon had been previously
served in Tippoo Sahib’s tent; but the dinner itself was in St.
George’s Hall, the ceiling of which was emblazoned with the arms of the
Knights of the Garter, from the institution of that Order down to modern
times, and also with portraits of the British Kings from James I. to
George IV. Immediately opposite the Queen was a pyramid of plate,
crowned by the tiger’s head captured at Seringapatam, and comprising the
“Iluma” of precious stones which Lord Wellesley, when Governor-General
of India, presented to his sovereign. The display of gold
[Illustration: AMBASSADORS’ COURT, ST. JAMES’S PALACE.]
plate, the brilliant light shed from numerous candelabra, the music
furnished by two bands of the Guards stationed in a balcony, and the
picturesque appearance of the Yeomen of the Guard, who stood on duty at
the entrance, contributed to an effect which was truly regal in its pomp
and grandeur. In the drawing-room, after dinner, the celebrated French
actress, Madame Rachel, gave recitations from her principal
performances; and the entertainment came to a close a little before
midnight. In the then excited state of the public mind, some persons
condemned these amusements, which they contrasted with the hunger and
suffering to be found in other quarters; apparently not perceiving that
the circulation of money must be an advantage to the community in
general. But
[Illustration: COSTUME BALL IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE.]
when the Queen and her ladies appeared in dresses of British
manufacture, the agitation ceased, and it was admitted that trade and
labour derived benefit from the outlay.
It was about the period of these gorgeous ceremonials that some other
attempts were made (or apparently made) on the life of the Queen. The
first of these occurred on Sunday, the 29th of May, when a young man,
named John Francis, attacked the Royal party while returning from the
Chapel Royal, St. James’s Palace. As they were driving along the Mall,
near Stafford House, a man stepped out from the crowd, and presented a
pistol at Prince Albert. The Prince heard the trigger snap, but the
weapon missed fire. He turned to the Queen, and asked, “Did you hear
that?” adding, “I am sure I saw some one take aim at us.” No other
person, however, seems to have been aware of the attempt, and it was
considered advisable that the Queen and Prince Albert should drive out
again on the following day. They went towards Hampstead, and, on their
return, when approaching the Palace, were again shot at. A policeman was
standing close by, and Francis was immediately seized. Strange to say,
the second attempt was very nearly on the same spot as that of Oxford in
1840. The culprit was the son of a machinist at Drury Lane Theatre, and
had for some months been out of employment. “A little, swarthy,
ill-looking rascal,” is the account which Prince Albert gives of him;
but he conducted himself before the authorities with a good deal of
spirit, or rather, perhaps, with a good deal of impudence. Having been
found guilty of high treason, he was condemned to death; but the
sentence was afterwards commuted to transportation for life.
The very day after the commutation became known--namely, July 3rd--a
further attempt was made by a hunchback named Bean. As in the other
cases, a morbid vanity appears to have been the feeling which prompted
the act. Bean escaped at the moment, but was soon afterwards arrested,
and, being tried for misdemeanour--not, like the others, for high
treason--was sentenced to eighteen months’ imprisonment. The folly of
charging such offenders with high treason, when it was quite certain
that they would not be visited with the penalty of that offence, but
with a much lighter punishment, uncertain, capricious, and variable in
its nature and operation, had suggested a change of the law, and the
Bill, which was in progress through Parliament at the time of Bean’s
attempt, received the Royal sanction a few days later. Sir Robert Peel,
while consulting with Prince Albert shortly after the attempt, was so
overcome by the sudden entry of her Majesty that he burst into tears,
although usually a very self-contained man. The frequent repetition of
such outrages was indeed a serious matter, and after the Francis affair
the Queen admitted that for some time she had had a presentiment of
danger hovering over her. On the occasion of Bean’s attempt, her Majesty
was not aware that anything had occurred until after her return to the
Palace. Being informed of the fact, she calmly observed that she had
expected a repetition of these attacks as long as the law remained
unaltered by which they could be dealt with only as acts of high
treason. The change in the law was doubtless advisable, since it is well
known that it is not so much the severity as the certainty of punishment
which deters the evilly-disposed; yet such acts will occur from time to
time as long as vanity and envy remain passions of the human heart.