DAYS OF PEACEFUL DEVELOPMENT AND PROGRESS.
Visit of the Prince of Prussia to England--Christening of Prince
Alfred at Windsor Castle--Second Visit to the Highlands in the
Autumn of 1844--Louis Philippe in England--His Reception at
Windsor--Interchange of Courtesies between English and French
Officers--Opening of the New Royal Exchange by the Queen--Letters
of her Majesty and Prince Albert on the Occasion--Scientific
Progress: the Electric Telegraph, Photography, Lord Rosse’s
Telescope, the Thames Tunnel, and Arctic Exploration--Tractarian
Difficulties in the Church--Purchase of Osborne by the
Queen--Visits of her Majesty and the Prince to Stowe and
Strathfieldsaye--Opening of Parliament by the Queen (Feb. 4th,
1845)--Financial Statement of Sir Robert Peel--Reduction and
Abolition of Duties--Acrimonious Debates on the Proposed Queen’s
Colleges in Ireland, and the Increase of the Maynooth
Grant--Retirement of Mr. Gladstone from the Ministry--Admission of
Jews to Municipal Offices--Results of Sir Robert Peel’s Financial
Policy--Economy in the Royal Household--Project for making Prince
Albert King Consort--The Chief Command of the Army.
While the Queen and Prince Albert were contemplating, in the late summer
of 1844, a second tour in Scotland, they received a visit at Windsor
from one who afterwards became illustrious on the stage of European
history, as the German Emperor. The Prince of Prussia, brother of the
reigning King, arrived at the Castle on the 31st of August, and was
described by the Queen as amiable, sensible, amusing, and frank. Her
Majesty thought he would make a steadier and safer King than his
brother, and it cannot be doubted but that his reign was actually more
successful and more distinguished. The Prince was at that time
forty-seven years of age. As a youth, he had taken part in the campaigns
against France in 1813, 1814, and 1815, and was then holding the post of
Governor of Pomerania. He was therefore, even in 1844, a man of some
experience in affairs, and he showed no little penetration in
discriminating between the adaptability of the British Constitution to
the needs of the British people as those needs were then, and its
fitness for Continental nations, where the surroundings are wholly
different. His visit to England was short, but, before he left, he
attended, in the Private Chapel at Windsor Castle, on the 6th of
September, the christening of the infant Prince, to whom were given the
names of Alfred Ernest Albert. The sponsors on this occasion were Prince
George of Cambridge, represented by his father, the Duke of Cambridge;
the Prince of Leiningen, represented by the Duke of Wellington; and
H.R.H. the Duchess of Saxe Coburg and Gotha, represented by H.R.H. the
Duchess of Kent. The scene in the chapel was very solemn, and the Queen
records its effect on her in a few heartfelt words preserved in her
Journal.
It had been the intention of her Majesty to visit Ireland in the autumn
of 1844; but the excitement in that country, consequent on the Repeal
agitation, the trial of O’Connell, and the subsequent release of the
agitator, made it imprudent for the sovereign and her consort to trust
themselves in the sister island. They accordingly fell back on another
Scottish tour, the remembrance of the earlier one having induced in both
a strong desire to repeat so agreeable an experience. The Royal party
started on the 9th of September, and sailed from Woolwich in the yacht
_Victoria and Albert_. On the 11th, they entered the Frith of Tay, and
landed at Dundee. From this place they advanced in a north-westerly
direction into the Highlands, where they took up their residence at
Blair Castle, Blair Athole, the seat of Lord Glenlyon (afterwards the
Duke of Athole), who placed his house and grounds at the disposal of her
Majesty. The road thither is exceedingly picturesque, with high hills
and deep woods, and part of it led through the Pass of Killiecrankie,
the beauty of which drew forth warm praises from Prince Albert. All
around the scenery is of the most magnificent description, and the
wildness of the prospects, the purity of the air, and the softness of
the sunshine, not only gave the deepest delight to the Royal visitors,
but had a beneficial influence on their health. They got up early in the
morning, and therefore had full enjoyment of the best part of the day.
One morning, a lady, plainly dressed, issued from the gates of Blair
Athole, and passed the Highland guard without being noticed. When it was
discovered that this lady was the Queen, a party of Highlanders turned
out as a bodyguard, but were told that their services were not required.
Her Majesty then passed on to the lodge, where Lord and Lady Glenlyon
were dwelling for the time. She was informed that his Lordship was not
yet up, and the servant was much astonished to hear who the early
visitor was. On her return the Queen lost her way, and was directed by
some reapers which path she should take to reach Blair Castle. In the
after-part of the same day her Majesty and the Prince went on an
excursion with Lord Glenlyon. Writing to the Dowager Duchess of Coburg
on the 22nd of September, Prince Albert says:--“We are all well, and
live a somewhat primitive, yet romantic, mountain life, that acts as a
tonic to the nerves, and gladdens the heart of a lover, like myself, of
field-sports and of Nature.” And the Queen says in her Diary that,
“independently of the beautiful scenery, there was a quiet, a
retirement, a wildness, a liberty, and a solitude,” about their
surroundings, which possessed an exquisite charm for both. The Royal
party left Blair Castle on the 1st of October, and were again at Windsor
on the 3rd.
Three days later the King of the French landed at Portsmouth. Many of
the French newspapers were strongly opposed to his coming, on account of
the Tahiti affair, in which it was considered by extreme politicians
that France had been injured and outwitted by England. But Louis
Philippe and M. Guizot determined that the visit should take place, as
the most likely way of restoring the good relations of the two
countries. At Portsmouth, the King was received by the naval authorities
of the place, and, before landing, the Mayor and Corporation presented
him with an address, in answer to which he said:--“I have not forgotten
the many kindnesses I have received from your countrymen during my
residence among you many years since. At that period, I was frequently
pained at the existence of differences and feuds between our countries.
I assure you, gentlemen, I shall endeavour at all times to prevent a
repetition of those feelings and that conduct, believing, as I do most
sincerely, that the happiness and prosperity of a nation depend quite as
much on the peace of those nations by which it is surrounded as on quiet
within its own dominions.” The Duke of Wellington went with Prince
Albert to receive the King on his arrival, and accompanied him to
Windsor Castle. Louis Philippe was much moved at his reception by the
Queen, and his hand shook somewhat as he alighted from his carriage. He
was the first French sovereign who had ever come on a visit to the
monarch of Great Britain; so that the occasion was a very memorable one.
It must in fairness be acknowledged that the King of the Barricades, as
he used to be called, entertained a friendly feeling towards England,
where he had spent some of his early days of exile, so that he was
sincerely desirous of preserving peace between the two dominions. He
delighted to visit all his old haunts in the neighbourhood of Twickenham
and Claremont. His conversation was very sprightly, and he recalled the
old revolutionary days when, being compelled to seek refuge in the
Grisons, under the name of Chabot, he acted as teacher in a school,
where he received twenty pence a day, and had to brush his own shoes.
Wherever he went, the reception of the French King was much more hearty
than that of the Emperor of Russia a few months before, and he was
enchanted with all he saw and heard. On the 9th of October he was
invested by her Majesty with the Order of the Garter, and on the 12th
received the Corporation of the City of London, who journeyed down to
Windsor to pay their respects. The King left England on the 13th. His
original intention was to return, as he had come, by way of Portsmouth;
but, on his arrival at that harbour on the 12th, accompanied by the
Queen and Prince Albert, the weather proved too rough for so long a
passage, and Louis Philippe therefore travelled up to London, and on the
following day crossed from Dover to Calais. The French Admiral and his
officers, who were to have conveyed the King back to Tréport, were much
vexed at being disappointed of that honour; and, as
[Illustration: RECEPTION OF LOUIS PHILIPPE AT WINDSOR CASTLE. (_See p.
172._)]
some kind of compensation, the Queen and Prince Albert breakfasted next
morning on board the frigate which had brought Louis Philippe over. Her
Majesty excited the highest enthusiasm of the French officers by
proposing and drinking the King’s health. There had in fact been much
interchange of courtesies between the French visitors and the English
officers stationed at Portsmouth; but it may be questioned whether these
mutual compliments did not sometimes a little transgress the limits of
sincerity. The Earl of Malmesbury is probably not far wrong when he
records in his Memoirs:--“The officers of the French fleet have met with
a most enthusiastic reception at Portsmouth. The English officers gave
them a ball and a dinner; healths were drunk, and speeches made, and an
immense quantity of humbug exchanged; but the French like that, so I
hope it will put them in good humour.” The worst of these receptions is,
that, although they may be sincere up to a certain point, they have a
tendency to run into extravagance, and may thus provoke a reaction at
some future date.
Before the end of the same month the Queen was engaged in a domestic
ceremony of great interest to the citizens of London, and to many others
far beyond the limits of the capital. The old Royal Exchange, the
successor to Sir Thomas Gresham’s original building, destroyed in the
Great Fire of 1666, was consumed in a conflagration which broke out on
the 10th of January, 1838. The new building--that which now stands--was
erected from the designs of Mr. William Tite, and opened by her Majesty
in person on the 28th of October, 1844. The procession left Buckingham
Palace at eleven o’clock A.M., and passed through streets gaily
decorated for the occasion. Her Majesty’s carriage was drawn by eight
cream-coloured horses, and the chief occupant wore a tiara of diamonds
and a white ermine mantle. On alighting at the Exchange, the Queen and
Prince Albert, preceded by the Lord Mayor with his Sword of State, went
over the building, and finally entered the Reading Room. Here, seated on
a throne, her Majesty received the address which had been prepared by
the City authorities, and which was read by the Recorder. Allusion was
made in it to the fact that the first building had been opened by Queen
Elizabeth, and a hope was expressed that the new edifice would endure
for ages, a memorial and monument of the commercial grandeur, the
prosperity, and the peaceful triumphs of Victoria’s reign.
After reading her reply, the Queen intimated to the Lord Mayor (Alderman
Magnay) her intention to confer on him the dignity of a baronet. A
sumptuous luncheon was afterwards served in the Underwriters’ Room, and
the proceedings of the day closed by the Queen announcing, after silence
had been enjoined by the heralds, that it was her will and pleasure that
the building should be thenceforth called “The Royal Exchange.” Her
Majesty was greatly pleased by her reception, and wrote next day to King
Leopold:--“Nothing ever went off better, and the procession there, as
well as the proceedings at the Royal Exchange, were splendid and royal
in the extreme. It was a fine and gratifying sight to see the myriads
of people assembled, more than at the Coronation even, and all in such
good humour, and so loyal.” To the same effect wrote Prince Albert to
Baron Stockmar. “Here, after four years,” he observed, “is the
recognition of the position we took up from the first. You always said
that if Monarchy was to rise in popularity, it could only be by the
sovereign leading an exemplary life, and keeping quite aloof from, and
above, party. Melbourne called this ‘nonsense.’ Now, Victoria is praised
by Lord Spencer, the Liberal, for giving her Constitutional support to
the Tories.” On the 12th of November the Queen and Prince Albert paid a
visit to Lord Exeter, at Burleigh, which they left on the 15th; and the
year closed with an interchange of kindly feelings between the Prince
and Baron Stockmar, whose friendship was then entering upon its sixth
year.
Scientific discovery, or at any rate the practical application of
scientific truths to the ordinary needs of life, had made considerable
progress since the accession of Queen Victoria, and it may be convenient
at this stage to review some of the principal changes thus effected.
Electric Telegraph was probably of more importance than any other. The
active powers of the electric “fluid” had been known for many years, and
some of the greatest inquirers of modern times had anticipated
extraordinary results from an agency so potent, and so various in its
operations. The transmission of electricity by an insulated wire was
shown by several experimenters as early as 1747, and in later years
telegraphic arrangements were devised by scientific explorers, both
English and foreign. But no very decided progress in the transmission of
thought by electricity was effected until a short period before the
death of William IV., when somewhat analogous plans were simultaneously
conceived in England and America by Professor Wheatstone and Professor
Morse. It has sometimes been a matter of contention as to whether the
honour of this discovery should belong to the one or the other; but it
may in truth be fairly divided between both. The first telegraphic line
in England was set up by Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Cooke, on the
Great Western Railway, between Paddington and West Drayton, in 1838-9.
The first telegraphic line in America was not constructed until 1844.
From those respective dates, the new means of intercommunication spread
rapidly on both sides of the Atlantic, until, in these days, the whole
civilised world is covered with a mesh of telegraphic lines, almost as
wonderful in their operation as the web of nerves which, in the living
animal, carry the conceptions of the brain through every part of the
system, and the impression of the senses to the seat of reason. One of
the earliest practical applications of the new telegraphic system, in a
matter concerning the general interests of the public, occurred at the
commencement of 1845. On the 1st of January a woman was murdered at Salt
Hill, near Slough, and a certain Quaker with whom she had been intimate
was suspected of the crime. The man made his way to Slough, and
proceeded by train to London; but a telegraphic description of his
appearance, and a statement of the reasons for his detention, had
reached Paddington before the time of his arrival. A policeman was
waiting on the platform, and the suspected person was closely watched
and followed until it was considered prudent to arrest him. He was
tried, found guilty, and executed; and Sir Francis Head, the well-known
writer, records that while travelling on the same railway some time
afterwards, he heard a third-class passenger, pointing to the telegraph
lines, remark, “Them’s the cords that hanged John Tawell.”
Another great achievement of this period is the beautiful art of
Photography. Some slight approach towards this mode of producing
pictures was made as long ago as the sixteenth century, when the action
of light on
[Illustration: BURLEIGH HOUSE, STAMFORD.]
chloride of silver was discovered. Further results were obtained during
the eighteenth century, particularly by Thomas Wedgwood (son of the
celebrated potter) and Sir Humphry Davy. Wedgwood was the author of a
paper, published in 1802 in the Journal of the Royal Institution, which
he entitled “An Account of a Method of Copying Paintings upon Glass, and
of making Profiles by the Agency of Light upon Nitrate of Silver.” The
art, however, made no great progress until it was taken up in France by
M. Daguerre, who worked in concert with M. Joseph Nicéphore Niepce. The
latter died in 1833, after several years’ association with M. Daguerre;
but it was not until January, 1839, that the production of photographic
plates was publicly announced by his partner. In the same year, Mr.
Henry Fox Talbot published his mode of multiplying photographic
impressions by producing in the first instance a negative photograph,
from which any number of positive copies could be obtained. The earliest
photographs were called Daguerreotypes and Talbotypes, after the French
and English inventors; but in a few years both appellations were
superseded by the Greek word _photography_--literally, a
“light-writing,” though a “light-picture” would be the more proper
description. The uses of photography have been manifold, and the
satisfaction they have given in preserving the very reflex of the faces
of our dead relations and cherished friends is doubtless the greatest
triumph of all. Within a few months of his death, Prince Albert was
deeply moved on receiving from his daughter, the Crown Princess of
Prussia, a daguerreotype of his father. “How precious,” he writes to her
on the 3rd of September, 1861, “is the daguerreotype! After seventeen
years which have glided by since my dear father was taken away, all at
once his shade has come before me--for such, in fact, it is.”[17]
To the early part of Queen Victoria’s reign must be referred some of the
most practical applications of the gigantic telescope erected by the
Earl of Rosse at Parsonstown, in Ireland. This wonderful instrument
(which, however, has been much surpassed by later telescopes) was in
active operation from 1828 to 1845. Its power was such as to exhibit the
very rocks on this side of the moon, and our knowledge of that
satellite--a barren, mournful sphere of extinguished vitality--was
greatly increased by the scientific labours of Lord Rosse and his
coadjutors. Returning to mundane matters, we must refer to the opening
of the Thames Tunnel, which took place on the 25th of March, 1843. The
shaft had been commenced, and the first brick laid, as far back as the
2nd of March, 1825; but the work was twice delayed by the irruption of
water. This subway between Wapping and Rotherhithe was undoubtedly a
splendid triumph of modern engineering, and reflected the highest credit
on Mr. I. K. Brunel, who proposed and carried out the design. But the
tunnel was not long popular, and, after the dissolution of the Company
in 1866, the work was transferred to the East London Railway, by which
it has since been used. The Queen and Prince Albert were much
interested in the tunnel, and, in July, 1843, honoured it with a visit
of inspection.
Arctic discovery made some important strides about this date. Sir John
Franklin, accompanied by Captains Crozier and Fitzjames, sailed in the
_Erebus_ and _Terror_ on his third Arctic Expedition, May 24th, 1845.
From subsequent investigations, it appears that he discovered the
North-west passage, having sailed down Peel and Victoria Straits (now
called Franklin’s Straits) a few months after his arrival in those
inhospitable regions. The Expedition, however, was fatal to the brave
explorers. All England waited with anxiety for tidings of these
adventurous men; but, after a few despatches, an appalling silence and
mystery descended on the enterprise. Months passed away, and nothing
more was heard of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_. It was as if ships and men
had been snatched away from the world; and the public could comfort
itself only with vague hopes that, after all, the vessels and their crew
would reappear at some unexpected corner of the earth. When the suspense
became no longer bearable, expeditions were sent out in search of the
missing voyagers, and coals, provisions, clothing, and other
necessaries, were deposited at various points by the English and
American Governments, by Lady Franklin, and by several private
individuals. Some years later, wild rumours started up that Sir John
Franklin and the gaunt remnant of his crew had been seen at this place
and at that; but these accounts always proved incorrect. It is
unnecessary to recount the numerous expeditions sent out by Lady
Franklin, and by the Governments of Great Britain and the United States.
Suffice it to say that, on the 6th of May, 1859, Lieutenant Hobson found
at Point Victory, near Cape Victoria, a cairn and a tin case, the latter
containing a paper, signed on the 25th of April, 1848, by Captain
Fitzjames, which certified that the ships _Erebus_ and _Terror_ were
beset with ice on the 12th of September, 1846; that Sir John Franklin
died on the 11th of the following June; and that the ships were deserted
on the 22nd of April, 1848. Some skeletons and other relics were
afterwards discovered; but the precise nature of the sufferings endured
by these heroic men is swallowed up for ever in the icy silence of the
Polar Seas.
The rapid development of Tractarianism in the Church of England drew
forth from the Archbishop of Canterbury a letter to the clergy of the
Established Church, dated January 11th, 1845. His Grace forbore from
giving any authoritative opinion on the practices recently introduced,
but recommended moderation, forbearance, and mutual concession. Where
the Tractarian innovations had been submitted to quietly, he thought
they should be continued; but where they had been violently opposed, he
advised the clergyman not to insist on their observance. Uniformity in
the mode of conducting public worship he regarded as extremely
desirable; but, as the Rubric was not very consistent with itself, he
admitted that its authors might possibly have contemplated the existence
of some diversity, when sanctioned by convenience. Nothing could be more
amiable than the feeling which prompted this address; but it was
clearly unfitted to appease the feelings of either the Tractarians or
the Anti-Tractarians. Both sides were committed to the most extreme
views, which they advocated with mutual bitterness. Eight days after the
publication of the Archbishop’s circular, there was a disturbance in St.
Sidwell’s Church, Exeter, arising out of the Puseyite practices of the
Rev. Francis Courtenay. The matter was referred to the Bishop of Exeter
by the Mayor, and the former wrote to Mr. Courtenay, recommending him to
give way at the request of the civil authorities, and not to persist in
wearing the surplice in the pulpit, unless his conscience should require
him to do so. At the present day it seems a ridiculous wrangling over
trifles to dispute whether a clergyman shall wear a surplice or a gown;
but it should be recollected that these trifles were commonly held to be
the outward manifestations of a fixed determination on the part of all
Puseyite clergymen to assimilate the Church of England to the Church of
Rome. If the opposition to the surplice was trivial, so also was the
determination to wear it: if the wearing of the surplice involved a
serious principle on the one side, the resistance involved an equally
serious principle on the other. Yet the Archbishop of Canterbury thought
that a few kindly words would compose these heart-burnings, which had
already destroyed the peace of the Church, and now threatened its very
existence.
From all such vexed questions, and from the inevitable contentions of
party, it was an unspeakable comfort to the Queen and Prince Albert to
be able to retire for a brief season to some quiet country spot, where
they could live in repose and privacy. This immunity from public cares
gave their special charm to the Scottish tours. But the Highlands are
remote from London, and it was very desirable that some place should be
found, sufficiently removed for a leisurely seclusion, and sufficiently
near the metropolis for a quick and easy return. When her Majesty and
the Prince accompanied the King of the French to Portsmouth at the
conclusion of his visit in the autumn of 1844, they saw a charming
estate in the Isle of Wight, which has since become famous as the marine
residence of Osborne. It was Sir Robert Peel who drew their attention to
this beautiful retreat, and in the early part of 1845 it was purchased
by her Majesty. “It sounds so pleasant,” wrote the Queen to King
Leopold, “to have a place of one’s own, quiet and retired, and free from
all Woods and Forests, and other charming departments, which really are
the plague of one’s life.” The estate was afterwards enlarged by further
purchases, and the mansion then existing was almost immediately pulled
down, that a larger and more dignified edifice might occupy its site.
The new structure was planned by Prince Albert, and the building
operations were conducted by the late Mr. Thomas Cubitt. The grounds
also were laid out by the Prince, and the ornamental plantations, which
owed their existence to him, are still amongst the greatest beauties of
the Royal domain. Here likewise, as at Windsor, his Royal Highness had a
farm for scientific agriculture, which he managed so admirably that in a
little while he made it pay.
Before the opening of Parliament the Queen and Prince Albert paid two
visits which were productive of general satisfaction. The first, which
took place about the middle of January, was to the seat of the Duke of
Buckingham at Stowe, where the Royal couple were received in a style of
unusual magnificence. The other visit was to the Duke of Wellington at
Strathfieldsaye, where the Royal party arrived on the 20th of January.
“The Duke,” writes Mr. Anson, “takes the Queen in to dinner, and sits by
her Majesty, and after dinner gets up and says, ‘With your Majesty’s
permission, I give the health of her Majesty,’ and then the same for the
Prince. They then adjourn to
[Illustration: OSBORNE, ISLE OF WIGHT.]
the library, and the Duke sits on the sofa by the Queen for the rest of
the evening until eleven o’clock, the Prince and the gentlemen being
scattered about in the library, or the billiard-room which opens into
it. In a large conservatory beyond, the band of the Duke’s Grenadier
regiment plays through the evening.” The Queen and Prince Albert
returned on the 23rd of January to Windsor Castle, and the brief
amusements of the early year speedily gave place to those important
duties which are necessarily associated with the government of a great
Empire.
Parliament was opened by the Queen in person on the 4th of February. The
Royal Speech referred with satisfaction to the decline of political
agitation in Ireland. It was mentioned that, as a natural result of this
change, private capital had been more freely applied than previously to
useful public
[Illustration: THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON AT WINDSOR CASTLE.]
enterprises, undertaken through the friendly co-operation of individuals
interested in the welfare of that country. Sir Robert Peel made his
annual financial statement on the 14th of the same month. The Bank
Charter Act of 1844, for separating the issue from the banking
department of the great establishment in Threadneedle Street, limiting
the issue of notes, and requiring the whole of the further circulation
to be on a basis of bullion, had already placed the monetary affairs of
the country on a better footing. As regarded the Budget, the Premier
calculated the revenue for the ensuing year at £53,100,000, and the
expenditure at £49,000,000. Notwithstanding this surplus of more than
£4,000,000, Sir Robert Peel considered it advisable to continue the
Income Tax for a further period of three years, as he found it necessary
to increase the expenditure on account of the public service, and
desired to apply his surplus to the reduction of the sugar duty,
together with the abolition of the duties on glass, cotton, and wool,
and on the importation of Baltic staves. It was also proposed to abolish
the duty on all those articles which yielded merely nominal amounts--a
step which, it was calculated, would sweep away four hundred and thirty
articles from the tariff. These proposals met with no great opposition,
and were rapidly carried through Parliament by large majorities.
In another portion of his policy Peel encountered much more trouble.
Measures were proposed for the establishment of Queen’s Colleges at
Belfast, Cork, and Galway, which should be open to all, without
religious distinction, and for increasing the annual grant to the
College of Maynooth from £9,000 to £30,000. Both measures, though
ultimately successful, were calculated to exasperate some of the deepest
feelings of that time; and Peel found considerable difficulty in
carrying out his designs. The proposed Colleges for Belfast, Cork, and
Galway, were described as the “Godless Colleges,” and the expression was
the common taunt levelled at all who thought such institutions likely to
effect good in the mitigation of religious animosities. The opposition
to the increased Maynooth grant had much more of reason on its side. The
College at Maynooth had been founded by Parliament in 1795 for the
education of students designed for the Roman Catholic priesthood in
Ireland. An Act for its government was passed in 1800; but its existence
as a State-supported institution was always repugnant to the Protestant
feeling of England. When, therefore, it was proposed to add £21,000 to
the yearly grant, it was not unnaturally considered by large numbers of
Englishmen that the time had come for making a decided protest. No doubt
a vast amount of the narrowest and fiercest bigotry was mixed up with
this opposition; yet, after sweeping aside all this froth and venom, the
naked fact remains that Protestants were expected to pay an annual sum
towards the education of Roman Catholic priests, who were not likely to
show any affection either for Protestantism or for England. The whole
principle of religious endowments is open to the gravest question, and,
had the opponents of the Maynooth grant taken their stand on _that_
ground, they would have advanced their cause with all reasonable men,
though probably their numerical following would have been less. But the
enlistment of bigotry on the side of the objectors was not unnatural
from their own point of view, though it drew down on them some scathing
criticisms. Mr. Macaulay, soon afterwards known as the most brilliant
historian of modern times, spoke of “the bray of Exeter Hall,” and lost
his re-election for Edinburgh, two years later, in consequence of that
sarcasm. After all the clamour of adverse opinions, Peel carried the
increased grant; but for many years after, the late Mr. Spooner made an
annual motion against the Maynooth College, and delivered himself of a
rambling speech, to which few listened. Most persons found the subject a
nuisance; and when the Irish Church was disestablished and disendowed in
1869, it was agreed that the annual Parliamentary grant to Maynooth
should cease at the commencement of 1871, though compensation was made,
as a matter of obvious fairness.
The augmentation of the Maynooth grant led to the resignation of Mr.
Gladstone, who occupied the position of President of the Board of Trade
in the Government of Sir Robert Peel. He was not at all opposed to the
measure, which, in fact, he supported as a private member; but he
considered that his book entitled “The State in its Relations with the
Church,” first published in 1838, contained some passages which
precluded him from taking part as a Minister in the proposed measure. In
addressing the House on the 4th of February he observed:--“I have a
strong conviction, speaking under ordinary circumstances and as a
general rule, that those who have borne the most solemn testimony to a
particular view of a great and constitutional question ought not to be
parties responsible for proposals which involve a material departure
from it.”
Religious questions were at that time prominently before the public, and
Sir Robert Peel showed an anxiety to remove those restrictions which had
formerly been considered necessary to the safety of the State and
Church. During the session of 1845, a Bill was introduced by the
Government for removing the test by which Jews were excluded from
certain municipal offices. The existing state of the law was
ridiculously inconsistent; for, while a Jew might be the High Sheriff of
a county, or Sheriff of London, he was not allowed to be a Mayor, an
Alderman, or a member of the Common Council. Before occupying any of
these offices, he had to swear “on the true faith of a Christian,” which
of course no Jew would do. A measure to remove the anomaly was
introduced into the Upper House by Lord Lyndhurst, the Lord Chancellor,
and, strange to say, it passed through that Assembly, which had
previously resisted all attempts in the same direction. The Bill
underwent no danger in the House of Commons, for the Lower Chamber had
in previous sessions endeavoured to effect the same reform.
Prince Albert was extremely gratified by Sir Robert Peel’s Budget for
1845, which not only, as we have seen, reduced or obliterated a vast
number of vexatious duties, but at the same time placed the finances of
the country on so excellent a footing as to enable the Minister to ask
for the Navy and Ordnance Estimates an increase of a million and a half
so as to augment the power of Great Britain at sea. For the security of
our ports, seven sail of the line were always to be available in the
Channel, and three on foreign stations; and the Prince saw in these
arrangements a renewed guarantee for the peace of Europe. He was also
much pleased by an allusion, in the financial statement of the Prime
[Illustration: MAYNOOTH COLLEGE.]
Minister, to the fact that the recent visits of Imperial and Royal
personages had involved no additional expense to the country. The
reforms in the administration of the Royal Household, due to the
initiative of Prince Albert, had effected so great a saving that the
Civil List was found quite adequate to the extra demands upon it. “Those
visits,” said Sir Robert Peel, “of necessity created a considerable
increase of expenditure; but, through that wise system of economy which
is the only source of true magnificence, her Majesty was enabled to meet
every charge, and to give a reception to the sovereigns which struck
every one by its magnificence, without adding one tittle to the burdens
of the country. I am not required on the part of her Majesty to press
for the extra expenditure of one single shilling on account of these
unforeseen causes of increased expenditure. I think that to state this
is only due to the personal credit of her Majesty, who insists upon it
that there shall be every magnificence required by her station, but
without incurring a single debt.”
These gratifying statements were transmitted by Prince Albert to Baron
Stockmar, who, it will be recollected, was largely concerned in those
reforms in the Household which had been productive of such admirable
results. In his reply, written on the 28th of February, the Baron
alludes to a speech having
[Illustration: LORD LYNDHURST.]
reference to his Royal Highness, and asks, “What can it be which has led
to the reopening of that report?” The report in question was a rumour to
the effect that the title of King Consort was about to be conferred upon
the Prince, by the special desire of her Majesty. For this belief there
was some foundation--not as respected any existing intention, but with
reference to a project which was undoubtedly formed in 1841. In that
year it was the earnest wish of her Majesty that the regal title should
be conferred on her consort. She perceived that his somewhat anomalous
position placed him at a disadvantage with other illustrious personages,
and was often inconsistent with the dignity properly belonging to the
Queen’s husband. Her views were therefore submitted to the judgment of
Baron Stockmar, without the Prince himself knowing anything of the
matter. The Baron, with that practical sense and wisdom which always
distinguished him, strongly opposed the suggestion; and so did Sir
Robert Peel and Lord Aberdeen, to whom, by her Majesty’s wish, Stockmar
had referred the question. Both those Statesmen believed that the
proposed change would be attended by undesirable results, and the
project was in consequence abandoned. The revival of the idea was due in
no respect either to her Majesty or to the Prince; but, in the early
part of 1845, the _Morning Chronicle_ announced that the title of King
Consort was about to be created. On the 17th of February the Premier was
questioned in the House of Commons as to whether there was any truth in
this rumour, and Sir Robert Peel stated in reply that the paragraph was
wholly without foundation. The design of making Prince Albert
Commander-in-Chief after the death of the Duke of Wellington seems to
have been really discussed for the second time at this period; but the
duties were too onerous to be undertaken by his Royal Highness, in
addition to the other demands on his attention. The appointment was
never conferred on him, and it would certainly have been an affront to
English feeling had such a post been occupied by a foreigner.
[Illustration: FAVOURITE DOGS. (_After Etchings by the Queen._)]