[[A.D. 1843.]]
|Parliament opened this year with very exciting debates on the corn
laws, which, of course, referred to all sorts of grain. Sir Robert Peel
entered upon his office bound to maintain these laws, but five years
later he repealed them. Such a change of policy brought down upon his
head the most outrageous abuse, but he was probably convinced that the
change was beneficial.
These laws made the price of all grain that was imported so high that
few could afford to purchase any but English grain. This protected
the English farmer, and gave him a chance to charge a good sum for his
crops; which was all very well for the farmer, but the manufacturer
rebelled. Foreign countries said: "If you refuse to buy our grain,
we will manage to do without your woollen and cotton goods." This was
ruinous to trade, and in consequence there was less manufacturing done.
Many were thrown out of employment, and all wages were reduced. That the
poor were forced to earn less and pay more for their daily bread struck
some members of parliament as a most unjust state of affairs. They did
not wonder at the riots that were becoming matters of daily occurrence,
and sought for a remedy.
This was only to be found in free-trade,--which means relief from duty;
but it would take time, thought, and debate before this remedy could
be established. The nominal {357}leader of the Free-trade party in
parliament was Mr. Charles Villiers, a man of aristocratic family and
rare ability, who had brought forward his views for several sessions
in the House of Commons, and had worked hard to secure converts to the
principle he advocated.
[Illustration: 0363]
The real leader of the movement was Mr. Richard Cobden, a manufacturer
of cotton goods in Manchester.
He was a man who saw and thought for himself, while he was willing to
learn from everybody. He travelled a great deal, and thus gained a stock
of information that proved of much value. He was not an orator, but his
simple, honest, straightforward style of speaking was most convincing.
He ruled men by appealing to their common sense, and showing them
wherein lay their own interest; {358}therefore was he most fitted by
nature to succeed in his arguments against the corn laws.
His strongest ally was Mr. Bright, an orator of the most brilliant type.
Mr. Bright had a commanding presence, a fine, broad head, a handsome,
expressive face. He had not read many books; but those he had read he
knew thoroughly, and the principal ones were the Bible and Milton. Mr.
Bright was a Quaker and a manufacturer of carpets. His business was a
prosperous one, and he had amassed a large sum of money; therefore, when
he made his appearance in parliament, his eloquence had a disinterested
ring; no one could accuse him of pleading his own cause alone.
Mr. Cobden and Mr. Bright met for the first time when both were
interested in the question of education, and each was struck with the
peculiar ability of the other. They became friends, and when Mr. Bright
was in deep grief after the death of his young and lovely wife, Mr.
Cobden made him a visit of condolence. After expressing what his heart
dictated, it suddenly occurred to him that work would offer the greatest
relief to his stricken friend,--work for the alleviation of other's
misery. "Come with me!" he said, after a pause. "There are thousands and
thousands of homes in England at this moment, where wives and mothers
and children are dying of hunger. Come with me, and we will work for
them, and never rest until the corn laws are repealed."
The invitation was cordially accepted; and these two men formed a bond
of friendship so strong, so close that until the death of Mr. Cobden the
name of one was scarcely ever mentioned without that of the other. Their
gifts were exactly suited to each other; for each possessed something
that the other needed, and together they became a power that stopped at
nothing short of complete success. {359}But before free-trade was fairly
established many converts had to be made, and much opposition had to
be put down. A favorable effect was produced by a letter from Lord John
Russell, at the time of the potato-rot in Ireland, which threatened to
produce a famine. This letter had a great influence on Sir Robert
Peel, as it convinced him of the necessity of doing something for the
advancement of trade, and prompted him to favor the repeal of the corn
laws, for which he was, as we have said, so severely condemned. Before
introducing another statesman, who became prominent at this time, a few
pages must be devoted to the queen and her family.
On the twenty-fifth of April another daughter was added to the royal
family. She was christened Alice Maud Mary, and her sponsors were the
King of Hanover, Ernest, now Duke of Coburg, Princess Sophia Matilda,
and Feodore. The queen wrote her uncle that the ceremony went off
brilliantly, and that little Alice behaved extremely well.
The royal couple took a lively interest in the exhibition of cartoons,
on subjects taken from English history and poetry, that was opened at
Westminster Hall that summer. All classes of people, from the highest
to the lowest, visited this exhibition, and this showed that a taste for
art was developing itself.
The prince was a great admirer of fresco painting, and gave valuable
instructions with regard to the decoration of both houses of parliament.
After they were completed, he ordered eight pictures, for a pavilion in
the garden of Buckingham Palace, illustrating Milton's "Cornus,"--one
from each of the following artists: Landseer, Maclise, Uwins, Eastlake,
Leslie, Ross, Dyce, and Stanfield.
The queen, with her husband, watched the progress of this work with real
interest, and one of the artists thus {360}wrote about them in a letter
to a friend: "I have never met with any royal personages who have
impressed me so favorably as our reigning sovereign and her young
and interesting husband. They come to us twice a day unannounced, and
without attendants, entirely stripped of all state and ceremony, and
courting conversation in a way that has gained our admiration and love."
The Queen and Prince Albert had long been contemplating a visit to the
court of Louis Philippe, so the day after the opening of parliament in
August they embarked at Southampton on the "Victoria and Albert," a new
yacht that had just been built for them. The French royal family were
at Château d'Eu, near Tréport. After cruising about off the coast of the
Isle of Wight for four or five days, the queen and prince crossed over
to Tréport, and the French king came out in his barge to welcome them.
Her majesty describes it thus in her journal: "The landing was a fine
sight, which the beauty of the evening, with the setting sun, enhanced.
Crowds of people (all so different from ours), numbers of troops (also
different from our troops), the whole court, and all the authorities
were assembled on the' shore. The king led me up a somewhat steepish
staircase, where the queen received me with the kindest welcome,
accompanied by dearest Louise, Queen of the Belgians; Hélène, Duchess
of Orleans, in deep mourning; Françoise, Prince de Joinville, and Madame
Adélaïde. All this--the cheering of the people, and of the troops
crying "_Vive la Reine! Vive le Roi!_"--well nigh overcame me. The king
repeated again and again to me how happy he was at the visit, and how
attached he was to my father and to England."
The visitors remained five days, and were received with so much
affection by every member of the royal family and so splendidly
entertained that it was with sincere regret that they parted from them
at last. {361}After stopping two or three days at Brighton, the queen
and prince made a tour in Belgium, and visited their beloved uncle, King
Leopold. The month succeeding this journey was marked by the prince's
first visit to Cambridge, where he and the queen were received by the
students with tremendous enthusiasm.
[[A.D. 1844.]] The first grief that darkened the home of the royal
couple was caused by the death of Prince Albert's father, which occurred
quite suddenly in January, 1844. This event was not entirely unexpected;
nevertheless the prince was deeply shocked, for he had always
entertained a warm affection for his father. The following month he
decided to visit Coburg, and see those of his relations who remained.
Shortly after his return the King of Saxony arrived at Buckingham Palace
on a visit, and two days later the Emperor of Russia appeared, having
given only forty-eight hours' notice that he would do so. Meanwhile,
the court removed to Windsor Castle, where the emperor was conducted by
Prince Albert and received by the queen. The royal visitor was struck by
the magnificence of the castle, and repeatedly declared that the English
court was conducted on a grander scale than any he had ever seen.
A brilliant review was given in Windsor Park on the fourth of June in
honor of the two royal guests, and they were delighted with the rapidity
of the artillery movements. The whole royal party attended the Ascot
races on the sixth, and returned to town on the seventh. Next day the
emperor went with Prince Albert on an excursion in the country, and
attended the opera with the queen in the evening. On the ninth he took
his departure, having made a most favorable impression in England.
On the sixth of August the queen's second son was born, at Windsor
Castle. He was christened at the end of {362}four weeks in the private
chapel, and received the names Alfred Ernest Albert. The sponsors were
Prince George of Cambridge, the Prince of Leiningen, represented by the
Duke of Wellington, the Duchess of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, represented by
the Duchess of Kent. The scene was very solemn. The Princess Royal and
the Prince of Wales were present; and it was on that occasion that the
former first beheld the father of the man she was to marry fourteen
years later,--the Crown Prince of Prussia,--who was then on a visit to
England.
In October grand preparations were made for the reception of King Louis
Philippe. The Duke of Wellington went with Prince Albert to Portsmouth
to receive him and accompany him to Windsor, and everything was done
to make a favorable impression on both sides, because his visit was the
first one ever made by a French to an English sovereign. The king was
no stranger in England, for he had lived there for five years during
his exile from France; and it gave him much pleasure to visit the old
familiar scenes, and to reflect upon his improved condition. He could
not forget how, under a feigned name, he had been glad to earn twenty
pence a day while in exile,--and now he was King of France! His visit
had a good effect, for it removed much of the angry feeling that had
existed between his country and England, and established a bond of
friendliness.
[[A.D. 1845.]] When the Queen and Prince Albert accompanied Louis
Philippe to Portsmouth they saw Osborne, in the Isle of Wight, for the
first time, and were so pleased with the prospect it offered for a quiet
retreat that they purchased it. There were eight hundred acres at first,
but more were added, until the estate comprised twenty-three hundred
acres. The prince cultivated the whole place, and improved it year by
year, until he made it one of the most delightful country-seats in the
world. {363}On the ninth of August the queen prorogued parliament; and
the same evening she and the prince, attended by Lord Aberdeen, Lord
Liverpool, Lady Gainsborough, Lady Canning, Mr. Anson, and Sir James
Clark sailed from Woolwich for Antwerp in the royal yacht, their
destination being Saxony. This is what her majesty wrote in her journal
on the morning of her departure:--
"A very fine morning when we got up. Both Vicky and darling Alice were
with me while I dressed. Poor, dear puss (the Princess Royal) would much
have wished to go with us, and often proposed that she might go, and
said,--'Why am I not going to Germany?' Most willingly would I have
taken her, and I wished much to have taken one of dear Albert's
children with us to Coburg; but the journey is a serious undertaking,
particularly the first time, and she is very young still. But what
chiefly decided us is the visit to the King of Prussia, where I could
not have looked after her. All four children were with us at breakfast,
after which I gave Lady Lyttelton my last instructions, and then with
a heavy heart we bade them adieu in the hall. Poor little Vicky seemed
very sorry, but did not cry. It was a very painful moment to drive away
with the three poor little things standing at the door. God bless them
and protect them; which He will! And they are in excellent hands. Our
dear Osborne is so lovely and so enjoyable that we left it with the
greatest regret."
Sir Robert Peel met her majesty at Buckingham Palace, and gave such a
satisfactory report of public affairs that the royal travellers set out
on their German tour with nothing to mar their pleasure.
They arrived at Antwerp on the tenth of August, and found the city
illuminated in their honor. They were received by a guard of soldiers,
and proceeded to Malines, where they were welcomed by King Leopold and
his {364}queen. They then proceeded to the Prussian frontier, where they
were met by the English ambassador, the King of Prussia with several
members of his family, many gentlemen in uniform, and a numerous escort.
They were magnificently entertained, and shown all the sights of Cologne
and other cities.
At Bonn a Beethoven festival was given, and afterwards all the
professors of the university where Prince Albert had been educated were
presented to her majesty. We need not follow the royal couple through
all their travels, but will quote the queen's account of their arrival
at Coburg, Prince Albert's birthplace.
"I began," says the queen, "to feel greatly moved,--agitated, indeed, in
coming near the Coburg frontier. At length we saw flags and people drawn
up in lines, and in a few moments more we were welcomed by Ernest
in full uniform. We got into an open carriage of Ernest's, with six
horses,--Ernest sitting opposite to us. The good people were all dressed
in their best,--the women in pointed caps, with many petticoats, and the
men in leather breeches. Many girls were there with wreaths of
flowers. We came to a triumphal arch, where we were received by
the land-director, who said a few kind words of welcome, to which I
replied,--all those who accompanied him standing on either side, and
the good people receiving us in such a warm, hearty, and really friendly
way. We then drove to Ketschendorff, the pretty little house of our dear
late grandmother, where we found uncle Leopold and Louise, who got
into the carriage with us. Ernest mounted a horse and rode next to the
carriage on my side, Alvensleben on the other. Then the procession was
formed, which looked extremely pretty. At the entrance to the town we
came to another triumphal arch, where the burgomaster addressed us. On
the other side stood a number of girls, dressed in
{365}
[Illustration: 0371]
{367}white, with green wreaths and scarfs, who presented us with
bouquets and verses. I cannot say how much I felt moved on entering
the dear old place, and with difficulty I restrained my emotion. The
beautifully ornamented town, all bright with wreaths and flowers, the
numbers of good affectionate people, the many recollections connected
with the place,--all was so affecting.
"The palace was soon reached, and as the royal cortège approached it
numbers of young girls, dressed like the others, threw wreaths into the
carriage. The staircase was full of relations. It was an affecting, but
exquisite moment, which I shall never forget."
Before they rose, the first morning after their arrival at the Roseman,
the singers of the Coburg Theatre serenaded them. "Before breakfast,"
the queen writes, "we went upstairs to where my dearest Albert and Ernest
used to live. It is quite in the roof, with a tiny little bedroom on
each side, in one of which they both used to sleep, with their tutor.
The view is beautiful, and the paper is still full of holes with their
fencing; and the very same table is there on which they were dressed
when they were little." After visiting the fortress that overlooks
Coburg, and driving in the suburbs, the first day closed with a
performance of the "Huguenots" at the theatre, where the royal couple
were greeted as they entered with "God save the Queen," sung in German.
The twenty-sixth of August was the prince's birthday, and a number of
gifts were spread out on a table for him, which the queen, with the
assistance of the Duke and Duchess of Coburg, had arranged amidst
beautiful flowers. Some of the peasants remembered the day, and came
all decorated in ribbons and flowers and preceded by a band of music, to
offer their congratulations.
The next day the royal couple left Coburg and travelled {368}on,
stopping frequently to visit various relations; each of whom vied with
the other in the feasts that were prepared for the entertainment of
their guests. After seeing and enjoying the numerous points of interest
in the Thurin-gian forest, the travellers began to turn their attention
homeward; but a flying visit had to be made at the Château D'Eu, so that
Louis Philippe might not feel himself neglected.
On the evening of September 7 the royal couple left the Scheldt in their
yacht, and at nine the next morning were off Tréport. The king was on
the lookout for them, and soon appeared on board in full uniform. They
were received with the same affectionate welcome that greeted them two
years before from the whole French royal family, and conducted to the
château. There a room was shown to her majesty, which had been fitted up
in honor of her former visit, with pictures of the various incidents
of it, as well as of the king's visit to Windsor, and among them
full-length portraits of the queen and Prince Albert. The whole company
of the Opéra Comique had been brought down from Paris that day, and in
the evening they gave a performance in a tent erected for the purpose.
Next day the travellers returned home, and the prettiest sight that
awaited them, as they approached Osborne, was the bright, chubby faces
of their four little children, who were on the watch for them.
[[A.D. 1846.]] We must now take a look at the political struggle that
was so bitter and so fierce this year. Sir Robert Peel had become
a free-trader, and announced himself as such in parliament; but his
downfall was at hand, even when victory seemed so near. This was brought
about by a bill introduced for the purpose of checking assassination in
Ireland, called the coercion bill.
It was at this exciting session that Mr. Disraeli rose into
{369}
[Illustration: 0375]
{371}sudden prominence. He had been for many years in the House of
Commons, and had made many speeches, but hitherto his political career
had been a failure. His first speech was, perhaps, as clever as many
later ones that won outbursts of applause, but he was ridiculed by the
noisy members of the house to such an extent that most men with less
courage would have been silenced forever. Not so Disraeli; he looked
straight at the party that opposed him, and, raising his hands with
theatrical effect, he exclaimed, in a tone of voice so powerful as to
penetrate to every part of the house: "I have begun several times many
things, and I have often succeeded at last; ay, sir, and though I sit
down now the time will come when you will hear me." His prediction came
true, and from the time--nine years after--when he rose to denounce
Sir Robert Peel, until the day of his death, his career was one long
brilliant success.
That night he made for himself a name, and for the Tory party, of which
he became the leader, a new career. The man whom the House of
Commons had ridiculed nine years before, now proved himself a great
parliamentary orator, and, as time went on, a politician perfectly
capable of assuming the control of his party. Sir Robert Peel had gone
over to the free-traders, and now the "Protectionists," headed by Lord
George Bentinck and the opponents of the coercion bill, would combine
to turn him out of office. This was accomplished after a great deal
of passionate, bitter debate, and three days later the great minister
announced his resignation.
It was with a feeling of profound regret that the queen parted with her
ministers, and the formal leave-taking was a severe trial on both sides.
Her majesty wrote King Leopold: "Yesterday was a very hard day for me.
I had to part with Sir Robert Peel and Lord Aberdeen, who are
{372}irreparable losses to us and to the country. They were both
so overcome that it quite upset me, and we have in them two devoted
friends. Never, during the five years that they were with me, did they
ever recommend a person or a thing that was not for my or the country's
best, and never for the party's advantage only."
Sir Robert Peel had done his duty to his country and his conscience, and
the very measure which deprived him of power has proved a blessing, for
which the British nation can never cease to be grateful.
Lord John Russell succeeded Sir Robert Peel as First Lord of the
Treasury; Lord Palmerston became Foreign Secretary; Lord Grey, Colonial
Secretary; and Sir George Grey, Home Secretary. Mr. Macaulay became
Paymaster-General, with a seat in the cabinet, and the Earl of
Bess-borough went to Ireland as Lord-Lieutenant.
Immediately after the formation of the ministry, and while the elections
were going on, the court removed for a short time to Osborne, where,
on the twenty-fifth of May, a princess was born. She was christened
a couple of months later at Buckingham Palace, by the names of Helena
Augusta Victoria, and the sponsors were the Duchess of Kent, the Duchess
of Cambridge, and the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz.
The new Whig party were not in an enviable position; for they had,
immediately on assuming power, to consider the disastrous condition of
Ireland, caused by the failure of the potato crop. It is difficult to
understand why people could not eat something else when potatoes were
not to be had; but it becomes clear when we remember that the Irish
peasant, with his wife and children, depended entirely on that root for
subsistence. They had absolutely no other food, and, when deprived of
that, they starved,--yes, literally laid down in their huts, or by the
road-side, and starved
{373}
[Illustration: 0379]
{375}to death. Not a county in Ireland wholly escaped the potato-rot,
and with it came what was called the potato disease--a peculiar form of
fever that was the result of sheer starvation, and caused the death of
hundreds of people.
Of course such terrible suffering led to scenes of crime and violence,
and the Irish hated the government that they firmly believed _would_ not
help them. Such was not the case; for the government were doing the best
they could, and were at their wits' end to find a remedy for the evil.
Subscription lists were opened in the large cities, and many of the
merchants put down their names for a thousand pounds. The sympathy of
the whole civilized world was aroused, and relief began to pour in from
different countries. The United States sent over their war-ships laden
with grain and other food, and, as they arrived, one after another at
one of the Irish seaports, the bells of the town rang out merrily to
convey the joyful tidings to the famine-stricken inhabitants.
Starvation and disease had killed off two millions of people by the time
the famine was over. Young Ireland became dissatisfied with a country
where such misery could exist, and might be repeated, and their
attention was turned westward. The United States had opened her arms for
the oppressed, and offered them a welcome, a home, citizenship. To our
hospitable shores, therefore, streamed a tide of Irish emigration until
they formed a large part of the population of every city in the Union.
[[A.D. 1847.]] This year an evidence of Prince Albert's having gained
in public esteem was shown by his being offered the chancellorship
of Cambridge University. He accepted, and at his request William
Wordsworth, then in his seventy-seventh year, wrote the ode for the
occasion, which was set to music by Mr. Thomas Attwood Walmisley,
and proved most effective. The ceremony of installation {376}was very
impressive, and after it was over there was a fine banquet at Trinity
Hall, followed by a reception.
[Illustration: 0382]
[[A.D. 1848.]] Early in the following year the Orleans dynasty in France
was overthrown, and a republic was proclaimed. By the end of February
King Louis Philippe, his queen, and the various members of his family
were hurrying secretly and in disguise by different routes to England,
their fortunes ruined, and they themselves anxious to escape from the
fury of the revolution and the horrible scenes that were being enacted
in their native land. This flight of King Louis Philippe with his queen,
in the depth of a very severe winter, is a painful story. They were old,
wretched, and deserted; and, although the king was responsible for the
mistakes that brought about the revolution after a peaceful reign of
eighteen years, who can fail to pity him?
It was but a sorry asylum he found in England, for he had lost the good
opinion of the queen and the nation, and {377}he was tolerated merely as
an object of compassion. In course of time his position and that of his
sons was much improved, because they bore their adversity with so much
dignity, manliness, and amiability. Great sympathy was excited in their
behalf when Louis Napoleon, the man whose life the king had spared,
hastened to France, seized the throne by conspiracy, and confiscated all
the property of his benefactor and the entire Orleans family.
The French revolution had begun so suddenly that all the world looked
on in astonishment. No sooner were the particulars of it known than it
found an echo in Italy, Germany, and Austria; and all three of those
countries rose in revolt, eager for improvements in their respective
governments.
Prince Metternich, the Austrian minister, was another person of note who
sought refuge in England at this period. This great diplomatist fell,
after long years of service to his emperor, who abdicated his throne
rather than fight for his rights; and with his wife, made his way
through Germany under a feigned name, and with a price set upon his
head. Then Louis Kossuth came forward with the determination to free
Hungary from Austrian rule.
Tumults broke out in every state and principality of Germany, and
a demand was made for freedom of the press, trial by jury, and
representation of the people in government affairs. In small towns the
peasants attacked the castles of their feudal lords, set fire -to them,
and put their owners to flight. The work of destruction was going on
everywhere.
Meanwhile in Paris business was at a standstill, the people were without
employment or food, a reign of terror set in, and an armed mob held the
provisional government at bay.
On the thirteenth of March a grand reform meeting was {378}held at
Berlin, which ended in a conflict between the military and the populace.
The promises held out by the king would no longer be listened to, and
disorder reigned in the streets for many days. He issued a proclamation
favoring the union of the German Confederation into one Federal State,
with one flag, one army, one fleet, one ruler. Overjoyed at this
proclamation, the crowd gathered to the square in front of the palace to
cheer the king, when, by some terrible misunderstanding or preconcerted
plan on the part of some violent politicians, shots were fired at the
cavalry drawn up beneath the windows of the palace. They moved forward
to clear the square. At that instant two muskets of the infantry were
fired; a cry of "Treachery! to arms!" arose on all sides; and, as if by
magic, barricades were erected in the principal streets, and then began
a struggle that was carried on throughout the night. The heavens were
illuminated by the burning houses set on fire by the mob, and the
streets ran with blood. Two hundred and sixteen people and sixteen
soldiers were killed in the fight. The king ordered the military
to cease firing in the morning, and thus his leniency gave the
revolutionary party the upper hand. But it was his aim to become Emperor
of Germany, so he took the position of popular leader, and paraded
the streets on horseback, wearing the German colors,--black, red, and
yellow,--streaming from his left arm, followed by carriages containing
the Polish prisoners that had just been released.
The Prince of Prussia, the king's brother and the present emperor, who
did not appear to favor the progress of the nation, had to leave the
city, and his palace was only saved from the fury of the mob by having
"National Property" placarded on it. He too sought refuge in England.
In Belgium peace remained unshaken, and the nation
{379}
[Illustration: 0385]
{381}felt what a blessing they had in the wise administration of King
Leopold. "Belgium," wrote the queen to her uncle, "is a bright star in
the midst of dark clouds. It makes us all very happy."
In April there was a monster meeting of the Chartists summoned to
Kensington Common. They had been preparing for several weeks, and
announced their intention to assemble to the number of one hundred and
fifty thousand, and march with a petition to the houses of parliament.
The law-abiding citizens determined to crush such a movement, and
one hundred and seventy thousand enrolled themselves as constables to
support the regular police force, and act in concert with the military,
if it became necessary. Prince Louis Napoleon was of their number, as he
had not yet gone to France.
Mr. Feargus O'Conner was somewhat disgusted when, after all his
boasting, not more than twenty-three thousand of his followers
assembled. Instead of storming the houses of parliament with their
petition, they were glad enough to be permitted to send a deputation
with it in a couple of common street-cabs, and make the best of their
way back home, conscious of the ridicule they had brought about them.
And this was the end of Chartism.
On the eighteenth of March, while the court were sojourning at Osborne,
Princess Louise was born, and a couple of months later they returned
to town. The christening took place in the private chapel of Buckingham
Palace, and the princess received the names of Louise Caroline Alberta.
Some years before Prince Albert had written a chorale, which was sung
at this ceremony. A splendid state banquet followed, and throughout
the month there was more than the ordinary number of court balls and
receptions in honor of the queen's birthday.
Immediately after proroguing parliament the queen and {382}Prince
Albert, with their children, went to Balmoral, a new country-seat in
Scotland, which they had just purchased from the Earl of Aberdeen. This
became a favorite retreat with her majesty. Her first impression of
it is thus given in her journal: "Looking down from the hill which
overhangs the house the view is charming. To the left you look to
the beautiful hills surrounding Loch-na-Gar, and to the right towards
Ballater, to the valley, along which the Dee winds, with beautiful
wooded hills, which reminded us very much of the Thuringian forest. It
was so calm and so solitary it did one good as one gazed around, and the
pure mountain air was most refreshing. All seemed to breathe freedom
and peace, and to make one forget the world and its sad turmoils. The
scenery is wild and yet not desolate; and everything looks much more
prosperous and cultivated than at Laggan. Then the soil is delightfully
dry. We walked beside the Dee a beautiful, rapid stream, which is close
behind the house. The view of the hills is exceedingly fine."
In this picturesque, wild highland home the queen and Prince Albert
found great relief from the cares and anxieties of London life, though
they were not without intelligence from the political world that
sometimes marred their perfect happiness. While there they heard of
the terrible doings in Frankfort, where a mob attacked the national
assembly, and hacked to pieces two of its members in a most brutal
manner; of the sudden death of Lord George Bentinck, of the election
of Louis Napoleon in France, and of a rising of natives against British
authority in India.
At the end of September the court left Balmoral for London, and, after
resting there one night, proceeded to Osborne, returning in a fortnight
to Windsor.
The year 1848 was one of bloodshed and misery, that {383}will ever be
remembered in Europe, and few were sorry to see it come to an end. The
death of Lord Melbourne, which took place in November, was an event
that caused the queen sincere sorrow; for she often said that during the
first two years and a half of her reign he was almost the only friend
she had, and we know how faithfully he served her and the country.
[[A.D. 1849.]] Another attempt on the queen's life was made in May,
as she was driving down Constitution Hill in an open carriage with her
children. The prince was riding in advance, and knew nothing of what
had occurred until he heard it from the lips of her majesty. She did
not lose her self-possession for a moment; but motioned her coachman to
proceed, and engaged the children's attention to keep them from being
alarmed. The man who fired proved to be an Irishman, named William
Hamilton, who seemed to have no motive whatever for the deed. Had it
not been for the intervention of the police he would have been torn
to pieces. On examination the pistol was found to be charged only with
powder. Hamilton was sentenced to seven years' transportation.
The time had arrived when it was thought proper to place the Prince
of Wales under the care of a tutor, and Mr. Birch, a young man who had
taken the highest honors at Cambridge, was selected for the office.
The queen and prince had early settled on a plan of education; for they
never forgot Baron Stockmar's saying, that "a man's education begins the
first day of his life."
"To neglect beginnings," says Locke, "is the fundamental error into
which most parents fall."
The royal couple had, therefore, given this important matter much
thought; and as early as 1842 Lady Lyttelton had been installed as
governess to the children. She filled her post with a devotion that won
the respect and {384}love of her charges, and the entire approval of
their parents. When she resigned it was because she thought herself old
enough to rest, and this is what she wrote about it: "The queen has told
me I may be free about the middle of January, and she said it with all
the feeling and kindness of which I have received such incessant and
unvarying proofs through the whole long twelve years during which I have
served her. Never by a word or look has it been interrupted." On her
last day in the palace, she writes: "In the evening I was sent for to my
last audience in the queen's own room; and I quite broke down, and could
hardly see or hear. I remember the prince's face, pale as ashes, and a
few words of thanks from them both; but it is all misty, and I had to
stop on the private staircase and have my cry out before I could go up
again." This departure of Lady Lyttelton's did not take place until
the princess royal was ten years old, and all the children were able to
appreciate their loss.
In August the queen and prince, with their four older children,
embarked for their first visit to Ireland. Nothing could have been more
gratifying than the enthusiastic welcome that greeted them on their
arrival at Cork and at _every_ stopping-place along their route. The
spot where her majesty first set foot on Irish soil has ever since borne
the name of Queenstown. As the royal party proceeded up the river Lee
to the town of Cork crowds assembled along the shores, and the air was
filled with wild shouts and cheers, ringing of bells, and firing of
cannon. Even in the towns that had been foremost in rebellion the
enthusiasm was great. The queen wrote thus of one feature of the Irish:
"The beauty of the women is very remarkable, and struck us much; such
beautiful dark eyes and hair, and such fine teeth; almost every third
woman was pretty, and some remarkably so."
[Illustration: 0391]
{385}When the royal squadron steamed into the harbor of Kingstown, the
wharves were crowded and the scene was magnificent. A salute was fired
from all the men-of-war in the harbor. "It was a sight never to be
forgotten,--a sound to be recollected forever. Ladies threw aside
the old formula of waving a white handkerchief, and enthusiastically
cheered; while the men, pressing in so closely as to throng the very
edges of the pavilion, waved whatever came first to hand,--hat, stick,
or coat (for the day was very hot),--and rent the air with shouts of
joy, which never decreased in energy till their sovereign was out of
sight. The royal children were objects of universal attention {386}and
admiration. 'Oh! queen, dear!' screamed a stout old lady, 'make one of
them Prince Patrick, and all Ireland will die for you!'"
The same scenes of wild delight were repeated on the road to Dublin,
and the four days spent in that city were a perfect jubilee. The most
important public institutions were visited; a levee, attended by four
thousand people, was held; there was a review of six thousand troops;
addresses presented, and an exhibition of cattle and agricultural
implements, in which the prince was particularly interested. All the
other cities vied with Dublin in welcoming the royal party, and the
effect of their visit on the country was most beneficial. The Irish
were charmed with their sovereign's gracious manners, and felt their own
importance greatly increased by the consideration she had shown them.
[[A.D. 1850.]] The new year found the health of Prince Albert by no
means good. His physician advised change of air, but there were reasons
why he could not leave England just then. Parliament assembled on the
thirty-first of January, and the prince had, besides, the affairs of the
grand exhibition on his hands. A preliminary meeting had been held
at Buckingham Palace many months before; but now committees had to be
organized and communications opened with all parts of the civilized
world to get contributions. There was a building to be erected, and for
that and other purposes money had to be raised, and distinguished men
pressed into the service to insure confidence, and to do their share of
the work. The prince felt that he had undertaken a formidable task when
at every point his guidance was sought.
On the twenty-first of February the first of the great public meetings
was held on account of the exhibition, all the representatives from
the countries that were to send {387}contributions being present. The
following month a grand banquet was given at the Mansion House, to
which the chief officers of state, the foreign ambassadors, the royal
commissioners for the exhibition, and the chief magistrates of more than
two hundred towns were invited. This gave Prince Albert an opportunity
to make known the entire plan and purpose of the exhibition; and no man
could have more thoroughly explained all the details.
The speech was received with such enthusiasm that Prince Albert felt
confident of the success of his undertaking. Congratulations poured in
upon him from all sides, and the newspapers were filled with words of
encouragement and praise. Her majesty wrote King Leopold at this time:
"Albert is, indeed, looked up to and beloved as I could wish he should
be; and the more his rare qualities of mind and heart are known, the
more will he be understood and appreciated. People are much struck by
his power and energy; by the great self-denial and constant wish to
work for others which are so striking in his character. But this is the
happiest life. Pining for what one cannot have, and trying to run after
what is pleasantest, invariably ends in disappointment."
As soon as parliament closed in the spring the court removed to Windsor
Castle, where Prince Albert's health improved very much. On the first
of May a prince was born, and, as he came into the world on the
eighty-first birthday of the Duke of Wellington, it was decided to name
him after that great general. Arthur William Patrick Albert were the
names bestowed on the royal infant at his christening, the old duke and
the present Emperor of Germany being sponsors. No doubt the Patrick was
added in remembrance of the old woman's request to the queen when she
visited Cork the previous year.
During the summer of this year there was a prospect of {388}war with
France on account of certain claims which England had against Greece
that had been acknowledged, but never settled. Matters were brought to a
crisis by an English admiral, who stationed himself off the Piræus, and
prevented a Greek vessel from leaving. France and Russia took offence at
this; but the first notice England had of such being the case was when,
at the levee given on the queen's birthday, the ambassadors of the two
countries failed to appear.
This event led to one of the most remarkable debates that ever took
place in the English parliament. A question arose as to whether the Whig
ministry, then in power, were free from censure in their dealings with
the Greek government. Lord Palmerston, as Minister of Foreign Affairs,
was put upon trial, as it were, with some of the most powerful of the
representatives opposed to him. But he was undaunted. His speech on the
occasion was considered a masterpiece. He explained the whole course
of his policy, and ably defended it. The stand he took was one that
appealed to the citizenship of the nation; for he contended that he had
been prompted in his actions by a determination to protect the rights
of even the poorest claimant to the name of Englishman against foreign
oppression.
He spoke for five hours without a note, a pause, or a sign of fatigue,
and held even his adversaries spell-bound with wonder and admiration.
His success was complete. "No man," said Mr. Gladstone next day, "had
listened with greater admiration than himself, while from the dusk of
one day to the dawn of the next he defended his policy, before a crowded
House of Commons, in that gigantic, intellectual, and physical effort."
This, it must be remembered, was the generous remark of an opponent.
Such another was made by Sir Robert Peel, who described Lord
Palmerston's {389}defence as "that most able and most temperate speech,
which made us proud of the man who delivered it, and in which he
vindicated with becoming spirit, and with an ability worthy of his name
and place, that course of conduct which he had pursued."
Lord John Russell and Mr. Disraeli followed Sir Robert Peel in the
debate, which terminated, after four nights, in the complete triumph of
the ministry.
This does not prove, however, that the laws Palmerston had enforced were
just, or even that the members of the cabinet who defended his action
thought so. In private they condemned it; but for reasons which it would
be difficult to explain to those not versed in diplomacy they felt bound
to stand by the ministry. However, Lord John Russell, who defended the
policy of Palmerston, declared that it would be impossible to remain in
office with him.
It was during this memorable debate that Mr. Cockburn came into
prominence. He defended the policy of Lord Palmerston, and his speech
was remarkable for a grace and finish that was seldom heard. It was
said by one of his hearers, "that when Mr. Cockburn concluded his
speech one-half of the treasury benches were left empty, while honorable
members ran after one another, tumbling over each other in their haste
to shake hands with the honorable and learned member." Mr. Cockburn's
reputation was made, and he sustained it for many years.
The speech made by Sir Robert Peel in this debate proved his last. It
was daylight on Saturday morning, June 29, when he left the house of
parliament, much fatigued. He could take only a short repose, for by
twelve he had to attend a meeting of the Royal Commissioners of the
Great Industrial Exhibition, and it was important that he should be
present, because a dispute had arisen with regard to the site of the
building. Hyde Park had been selected; but serious objections had been
raised, and Peel's influence was so great that Prince Albert depended
upon him to remove them. Therefore, though worn out with fatigue, he had
to attend the meeting; and afterwards he set out for a short ride in the
park, thinking the fresh air and exhilarating exercise would invigorate
him. He called at Buckingham Palace, and wrote his name in the queen's
visiting-book. As he was riding up Constitution Hill his horse suddenly
shied and threw him. Peel clung to the bridle, and the animal fell
with its knees on his shoulders. His injuries were so great that after
lingering between delirium and consciousness for three days he died.
Never was a statesman more sincerely mourned. When announcing his death
to the Duchess-dowager of Saxe-Coburg, the prince wrote: "We have lost
our truest friend and trustiest counsellor, the throne its most valiant
defender, the country its most open-minded and greatest statesman."
The queen wrote: "Peel is to be buried to-day. The sorrow and grief at
his death are most touching, and the country mourns over him as over a
father."
A warm tribute was paid to his memory by the Duke of Wellington in one
house of parliament, and by Mr. Gladstone, in the other. "In all the
course of my acquaintance with Sir Robert Peel," said the aged duke,
"I never knew a man in whose truth and justice I had a more lively
confidence, or in whom I saw a more invariable desire to promote the
public service. In the whole course of my communications with him
I never a knew an instance in which he did not show the strongest
attachment to truth; and I never saw, in the whole course of my life,
the slightest reason for suspecting that he stated anything which he
did not believe to be the fact." {391}Parliament desired to show their
respect for the memory of Peel by burying his remains with public
honors. This was proposed by Lord John Russell, but it was found that
the great statesman had particularly requested in his will that his
remains should be placed beside those of his parents at Drayton Bassett.
A monument in Westminster Abbey was therefore substituted at the public
expense. The offer of a peerage was made to Lady Peel, but she declined,
saying, "that she desired to bear no other name than that by which Sir
Robert Peel was known." At the same time she stated that her husband's
wish, recorded in his will, had been that none of his family should ever
accept any title, distinction, or reward on account of any service he
might be supposed to have rendered his country. Peel earnestly desired
that if his sons were to bear titles and distinctions given them by the
state, they should win them by their own services and worth, and not
simply put them on as an inheritance from their father.
On the twenty-sixth Prince Albert celebrated his birthday quietly at
Osborne, surrounded by his family. It was, however, a day of mourning;
for just before dinner news was brought of the death of King Louis
Philippe. Two days later the queen and prince paid a visit to the
afflicted family, and then proceeded by rail to Edinburgh. They were
met at the station by the Duke of Buccleuch, at the head of the Royal
Archers, who formed a body-guard, and accompanied the carriage to
Holyrood Palace. This was the first time a queen had entered the old
building since poor Mary Stuart had left it.
"We wandered out to look at the old ruined abbey, which adjoins the
palace," says the queen's diary, "and which you see from our windows.
It is beautiful inside. One of the aisles is still roofed in, but the
others are not. It was originally an abbey, and the very old tombstones
{392}are those of the friars. It was afterwards the Chapel Royal, and
Queen Mary, my unfortunate ancestress, was married to Lord Darnley at
this very altar, of which we see the remains. We saw the rooms where
Queen Mary lived, her bed, the dressing-room into which the murderers
entered who killed Rizzio, and the spot where he fell."
The next day the prince laid the corner-stone of the National Gallery,
which is now one of the finest buildings in the city of Edinburgh.
Thousands of people attended the ceremony, and the prince's speech was
most satisfactory.
Scarcely had the court returned to Osborne from Scotland when news was
brought of the death of the Queen of the Belgians. Although this
sad event was not unexpected, it was a source of deep grief to Queen
Victoria, who had loved her aunt devotedly. The two ladies were nearly
allied in age, rank, sympathy, and culture, and they had been friends
and confidants for many years.
Great excitement was occasioned in the autumn by the pope's issue of
a bull, directing the establishment in England of bishops to bear
the title of their sees. This was offensive, because the crown had
maintained the right to bestow such titles. It was an assumption of
power on the part of the pope that produced an outburst of passion such
as has seldom been witnessed in England. The queen was indignant, the
prime minister lost his temper, and wrote a letter that gave great
offense to the Roman Catholics. Long, fierce debates followed the
opening of parliament, and the "Ecclesiastical-Titles Bill" occupied the
attention of its members for many months. Lord John Russell resigned,
and was invited back to his post; the bill was wrangled over, and
caused much bitterness of feeling, and then died a natural death. Both
Catholics {393}and Protestants found that they had made a mountain
out of a mole-hill, and that time and temper had been wasted, and both
blushed for their lack of dignity and tolerance.
[[A.D. 1851.]] The attention of the nation was next turned towards the
great International Exhibition, which opened on the first of May, in
Hyde Park. Similar exhibitions have taken place since, and superior
ones, but the one projected by Prince Albert was the first,--therefore
the most remarkable. Two days before the opening of the exhibition the
queen made a private visit to the building. We quote from her diary: "We
remained two hours and a half, and I came back quite beaten, and my head
bewildered, from the myriads of beautiful and wonderful things which
now quite dazzle one's eyes! such efforts have been made, and our people
have shown such taste in their manufactures! All owing to this great
exhibition and to Albert,--_all to him!_ We went up into the gallery
and the sight from there, with the numerous courts full of all sorts
of objects of art and manufacture, is quite marvellous. The noise was
overpowering, for so much was going on everywhere, and from twelve to
twenty thousand people engaged in arranging all sorts of things.
"May 1.--The great event has taken place,--a complete and beautiful
triumph; a glorious and touching sight,--one that I shall ever be proud
of for my beloved Albert and my country. Yes; it is a day which makes my
heart swell with pride and glory and thankfulness!
"The park presented a wonderful spectacle, crowds streaming through it,
carriages and troops passing, quite like the coronation day, and for
me the same anxiety--no, much greater anxiety, on account of my
beloved Albert. The day was bright, and all bustle and excitement. At
{394}half-past eleven the whole procession in state carriages was in
motion. The Green Park and Hyde Park were one densely crowded mass of
human beings, in the highest good humor, and most enthusiastic. I never
saw Hyde Park look as it did,--as far as the eye could reach. A little
rain fell just as we started; but before we came near the Crystal Palace
the sun shone and gleamed upon the gigantic edifice, upon which the
flags of all the nations were floating. We drove up Rotten Row, and got
out at the entrance on that side.
"The glimpse of the transept through the iron gates, the waving palms,
flowers, statues, myriads of people filling the galleries and seats
around, with the flourish of trumpets as we entered, gave us a sensation
which I can never forget, and I felt much moved. We went for a moment to
a little side-room, where we left our shawls, and where we found mamma
and Mary (Princess of Teck), and outside which were standing the other
princes. In a few seconds we proceeded, Albert leading me, having
Vicky at his hand, and Bertie holding mine. The sight as we came to the
middle, where the steps and chair (which I did not sit on) were
placed, with the beautiful crystal fountain just in front of it, was
magical,--so vast, so glorious, so touching. One felt--as so many did
to whom I have since spoken--filled with devotion,--more so than by any
service I have ever heard. The tremendous cheers, the joy expressed
in every face, the immensity of the building, the mixture of palms,
flowers, trees, statues, fountains, the organ (with two hundred
instruments and six hundred voices, which sounded like nothing), and my
beloved husband, the author of this 'Peace Festival,' which united the
industry of all nations of the earth,--all this was moving indeed, and
it was and is a day to live forever. God bless my dearest Albert, God
bless my dearest country, which has shown
{395}
[Illustration: 0401]
{397}itself so great to-day! The only event it in the slightest degree
reminded me of was the coronation; but this day's festival was a
thousand times superior. In fact, it is unique, and can bear no
comparison, from its peculiarity, beauty, and combination of such
different and striking objects. .
"Albert left my side after 'God save the Queen' had been sung, and,
at the head of the commissioners,--a curious set of political and
distinguished men,--read me the report, which is a long one, and to
which I read a short answer. After which the Archbishop of Canterbury
offered up a short and appropriate prayer, followed by the 'Hallelujah
Chorus,' during which a Chinese mandarin slowly and gravely made his
way around the fountain, and made me a profound obeisance. Then the
procession began. It was beautifully arranged and of great length,--the
prescribed order being exactly adhered to. The nave was full, which had
not been intended; but still there was no difficulty, and the whole long
walk from one end to the other was made in the midst of continued and
deafening cheers and waving of handkerchiefs. Every one's face was
bright and smiling, many with tears in their eyes. Many Frenchmen called
out, '_Vive la Reine!_' One could, of course, see nothing but what was
near in the nave, and nothing in the courts. The organs were but little
heard, but the military band at one end had a very fine effect as we
passed along. They played the march from Athalie. The beautiful Amazon
in bronze, by Kiss, looked very magnificent.
"We returned to our place, and Albert told Lord Breadalbane to declare
that the exhibition was opened, which he did in a loud voice: 'Her
majesty commands me to declare this exhibition open,' which was followed
by a flourish of trumpets, and immense cheering. All the commissioners,
{398}the executive committee, etc., who worked so hard, and to whom such
immense praise is due, seemed truly happy, and no one more so than
Mr. Joseph Paxton, who planned the building, and who rose from being a
common gardener's boy."
The exhibition was a perfect success, and all those that have followed
have certainly been a compliment to Prince Albert's enterprise. The
building itself called forth much wonder and admiration, the beautiful
structure being entirely of glass and iron. It was afterwards removed to
Sydenham, where it now stands, and where few travellers fail to make a
visit on purpose to behold this wonderful inspiration of Mr., now Sir
Joseph, Paxton.
"I must not omit to mention an interesting episode of this day," writes
the queen; viz. "the visit of the good old Duke of Wellington, on
this his eighty-second birthday, to his little godson, our dear little
Arthur. He came to us at five, and I gave him a golden cup and some
toys, which he himself had chosen, and Arthur gave him a nosegay.
"We dined _en famille_, and then went to Covent Garden Opera. I was
rather tired; but we were both so happy, so full of thankfulness! God is
indeed our kind and merciful Father!"
Lord John Russell and Lord Palmerston were among the first to offer
congratulations to the queen on the success of the undertaking; and
Sir George Grey was able to report next day that, although twenty-five
thousand people had been within the building, and seven hundred thousand
along the route between Buckingham Palace and Hyde Park, not a single
accident had happened, and not a case of bad behavior had been reported
by the police.
While in Scotland the prince won the admiration of the Highlanders by
his skill in deer-stalking, and by the energy and endurance with which
he made his tramps {399}over hill and heather. He and the queen returned
to London in time to make one more visit to the exhibition, which closed
in October.
This year was memorable for a visit from Kossuth, who sought to secure
the intervention of England in the cause of Hungarian independence.
He received a warm welcome, and his irresistible, passionate eloquence
charmed thousands of people, even though they did not sympathize with
him or his object. He spoke the purest English, and his powers of speech
excited the wonder and admiration of his hearers everywhere; but he
soon found that the peace with Austria was not to be broken. So the
illustrious patriot came to America, where again he was doomed to
disappointment.
Before the close of the year all England, and, indeed, the whole world,
was taken by surprise by the _coup d'état_ made by Louis Napoleon, which
placed him on the throne as Emperor of the French. This remarkable
piece of intelligence reached the queen just before her departure from
Osborne, and she immediately wrote Lord John Russell to request Lord
Normandy, her ambassador at Paris, "to remain entirely passive, and to
take no part whatever in what was passing, and to say no word that might
be misconstrued into approval of the action of Louis Napoleon."
Lord Normanby's reply created quite a sensation. He wrote that when he
called on M. Targot, the French Minister of Foreign Affairs, to tell him
that no change was to be made in England's relations with France, he
was astonished to hear from that gentleman that Lord Palmerston had,
two days before, called upon Count Walewski, the French ambassador in
London, and not only expressed his approval of what the new emperor had
done, but had declared that he could not have acted otherwise. {400}When
this was repeated to the queen she was unwilling to believe it,
considering how explicit she had been in desiring strict neutrality
on the part of her ministers. She wrote Lord John Russell desiring an
explanation, and he at once opened a correspondence with Lord Palmerston
on the subject. Many letters passed between the two statesmen before
complete satisfaction could be obtained. Lord Palmerston had profound
confidence in himself, and every man who differed from him was, in
his estimation, a blockhead. He jumped at conclusions, acted upon them
quickly, cared little for the opinion of the world, and regarded those
more deliberate than himself as dullards. Thus had he often acted upon
his own judgment and authority in deciding matters of state, and pledged
the queen to a course of conduct of which she did not wholly approve.
This was exceedingly aggravating, and her majesty chafed under it. With
regard to the _coup d'etat_, he wrote just as one of Louis Napoleon's
ministers might have done in addressing a foreign court. He did not
disguise the contempt he felt for Lord John Russell because he thought
differently from himself in the matter, and obstinately refused to
understand that it was not his favoring the action of Louis Napoleon
that gave offense, but his openly expressing his approval of it in
defiance of the queen's judgment and decision.
Lord John Russell was highly indignant, and declared that, while he
admired the energy and ability of his colleague, he could not submit to
being associated with one who was constantly creating misunderstandings
and committing acts of imprudence. The consequence was that Lord
Palmerston withdrew from office, and Lord Granville took his place.
Lord Palmerston's removal caused a sensation all over {401}Europe, for
he had shown himself to be a man of great ability and strong common
sense; and it was generally believed that he had been sacrificed to
government intrigue, though such was not the case. The cabinet met on
the twenty-second of December, and condemned Lord Palmerston's conduct,
and approved of the steps taken by Lord John Russell.
{402}