[[A.D. 1852.]]
|The year opened with considerable uneasiness regarding the probability
of a French invasion; and the queen drew the attention of parliament to
the necessity of increasing the number of soldiers. Without explaining
the plan of the "militia bill," which was brought up for consideration,
it is only necessary to say that the alterations made in it by the
members of the house excited the indignation of Lord John Russell to
such a degree that he sent his resignation to her majesty. Lord Derby
took his place as minister, and Mr. Disraeli became Chancellor of the
Exchequer and leader of the House of Commons. The scheme for providing
forces to defend the country was soon completed; and Mr. Disraeli
occasioned no little surprise by the talent he showed for figures, in
addition to his other gifts.
The new administration was called the "Who? Who? Ministry," and this is
how it came by such a queer name. The Duke of Wellington was somewhat
deaf, and, like many people so afflicted, spoke in a very loud tone.
He was so anxious to hear the names of those who were to form the new
cabinet that he stopped Lord Derby in the House of Lords, and asked
to what person each office was to be assigned. As the prime minister
mentioned the names, the aged duke eagerly asked, "Who? Who?" and the
more unfamiliar the names the louder they had to be {403}repeated,
and the oftener and more audible became the "Who? Who?" until the
conversation was heard by all the members. The story got abroad, and the
familiar name of the "Who? Who?" government was given to Lord Derby's
administration.
The well-known gray head disappeared soon after; for the old duke died
on the fourteenth of September, at Walmer Castle, in his eighty-fourth
year. Never did any other man occupy such a position in England as
the Duke of Wellington. The whole nation loved him and had the utmost
confidence in him; and to the queen he was a loyal subject and an
affectionate friend. Strong men shed tears when they announced his
death, for he had held a warm place in the hearts of his countrymen. "He
was the pride and good genius, as it were, of this country,"--wrote
the queen,--"the most loyal and devoted subject, and the staunchest
supporter the crown ever had. He was to us a true friend and most
valuable adviser."
This is the order which Lord Derby issued to the army, by her majesty's
command:--
"The discipline which he exacted from others, as the main foundation of
the military character, he sternly imposed upon himself; and the queen
desires to impress upon the army that the greatest commander whom
England ever saw has left an example for the imitation of every soldier,
in taking as his guiding principle, in every relation of life, an
energetic and unhesitating obedience to the call of duty."
In Southey's "Peninsular War," this sentence referring to the great duke
occurs: "His campaigns were sanctified by the cause; they were sullied
by no cruelties, no crimes; the chariot wheels of his triumphs have been
followed by no curses; his laurels are entwined with the amaranths of
righteousness, and upon his deathbed he might remember his victories
among his great works." {404}The funeral was grand and imposing, and
beneath the dome of the Metropolitan Cathedral the remains of England's
greatest military hero were laid beside those of Nelson, her greatest
naval hero. "We have buried in our greatest general," said Lord Derby,
in the House of Lords next day, "the man among us who had the greatest
horror of war."
After a short sojourn at Balmoral the court returned to Windsor, and as
soon as parliament was opened repaired to Osborne, when her majesty was
soon called upon to make another change in her ministry.
Mr. Disraeli occupied the attention of the house for more than five
hours with a speech regarding the reduction of certain taxes and the
increase of others. He spoke ably, and made a strong impression; but a
still stronger one was made by Mr. Gladstone in opposition. It was
four long nights before the debate concluded, and it resulted in the
resignation of the ministry, which was formally tendered to the queen
the next morning. From that period Disraeli and Gladstone were rivals in
power and opponents in parliament for more than twenty years.
The queen now felt the necessity for the formation of a powerful
administration, and for that purpose she called on Lord Aberdeen, who
became prime minister. Lord John Russell took the foreign office, Lord
Palmerston became home secretary, and Mr. Gladstone chancellor of the
exchequer. This was a powerful organization; but the man who attracted
the most attention was Mr. Gladstone, then forty-three years of age. He
had entered public life at a very early age, and had often distinguished
himself as a debater. He was born in Liverpool, and his father was a
Scotchman. He was a free-trader, and as such early attached himself
to Peel. The speech which he made just after the formation of the new
ministry lasted several
{405}
[Illustration: 0411]
{407}hours; but it was so fine that his hearers were charmed, and
nobody wished it to come to an end. His voice was remarkably clear and
resonant, and he had the rare gift of being able to argue, with all the
fluency for which he was noted, without the slightest preparation. He
would start to his feet at a moment's notice, and pour forth a volume of
words effective as they were eloquent. Mr. Gladstone, besides being an
orator, was a statesman, a critic, an essayist, a Greek scholar, and a
financier.
[[A.D. 1853.]] The queen was quite satisfied with her new cabinet, and
wrote King Leopold: "The success of our excellent Aberdeen's arduous
task, and the formation of so brilliant and strong a cabinet, would, I
was sure, please you. It is the realization of the country's and our own
most ardent wishes, and it deserves success, and will, I think, command
great support."
The court prolonged their stay at Osborne until late in the spring of
this year, and during that time the Eastern question began to attract
attention. On that subject we shall presently have more to say. Another
royal visit to Dublin must first be mentioned. It was made on the
occasion of the opening of a great Art and Industrial Exhibition,
similar to the one of 1851 in London. The exhibition opened in July; but
measles, which attacked the Queen, Prince Albert, and all but the two
younger royal children, delayed them for a month.
It was on the twenty-ninth of August before the royal party reached
Dublin, where they were welcomed with the same enthusiasm that had
marked their visit four years before. The morning of each day was
devoted to the exhibition, and the Irish poplins, laces, and pottery
were special objects of admiration.
After passing a pleasant week at Dublin the royal guests drove to
Kingstown, on the evening of September 3, where {408}an immense crowd
assembled to bid them adieu. "The evening was very beautiful," says her
majesty's diary, "and the sight a fine one,--all the ships and yachts
decked out and firing salutes, and thousands on the quay cheering." As
night closed in, a magnificent aurora borealis lighted up the northern
sky, and fire-works were let off until late into the night.
[Illustration: 0414]
On the sixth of September, the court reached Balmoral; but they could
not enjoy this retreat so much as usual, because the prospect of war
with Russia was daily becoming more imminent. England had been at peace
with all the world for forty years, and she was very reluctant to be
{409}drawn into any complication now; but a few words of explanation
will show how she was forced to fight.
A treaty had been made between Francis I. and the Sultan, by which the
holy places in Palestine and the monks of the Latin church were placed
under the protection of France. In course of time the Greeks began to
dispute the claim of the Latin monks to guard the shrines, and serious
disputes arose. Then Russia, claiming to possess the greatest number of
Greek Catholics among her subjects, thought fit to interfere. The matter
was left to the decision of the Turkish Porte, which granted keys to
certain of the shrines to the Latins, and of others to the Greeks. The
French were not pleased, but agreed to accept the decision. Not so the
Russians; they felt that the French had the key to the most important
shrines, and had therefore obtained supremacy over them in the East.
Besides, the Russian Government was determined to have the protectorate
of the Christians in Turkey, even though they gained it at the point
of the sword. So Prince Menschikoff was sent with a suite of naval and
military officers to Constantinople to propose a sort of convention to
enable his government to assert this protectorate over the Greek church
within the Turkish Empire. He demanded an immediate reply. The new
foreign minister, who had just entered upon his office, asked for
five or six days in which to consider so important a matter. This was
refused, whereupon the Ottoman council became indignant and declined to
have any convention at all.
Prince Menschikoff at once left Constantinople, and Russia began her
preparations for war. Before many days her troops were gathering in
great force along the frontier. This aroused the patriotism of all the
Turks, Moslem as well as Christian, and Russia appeared like a big giant
ready to goble them up.
{410}The czar had long before called Turkey, "the sick man," and had
invited the English ministry to form an agreement with him, as to
the distribution of the effects in case "the sick man" should die. He
desired no strife,--oh no! He was perfectly satisfied that arrangements
should be made that would be agreeable to all parties, provided he got
possession of Constantinople.
England very properly refused to acknowledge that Turkey was "a sick
man" at all, and would not agree that any European power should be wiped
out. But she desired no war, and so a conference was called at Vienna
between England, France, Austria, and Prussia, for the purpose of
patching up, if possible, a reconciliation between Turkey and Russia.
The eagerness with which Russia consented to accept the Vienna note
made the Turkish Government suspicious that she saw something of special
advantage in it to herself. Therefore, through the advice of the English
ambassador at Constantinople, Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, the Turks
declined to accept the Vienna note, unless certain changes were made.
The prince consort had said that the Vienna note was a trap laid by
Russia, and he was right; it was a trap in which the Western powers
would have been caught, had it not been for the shrewdness of de
Redcliffe.
The czar would listen to no modification of the Vienna note; so Turkey
declared war, and the French and English fleet combined were sent to the
Bosporus with orders to pass into the Black Sea, if the Russian fleet
came out of Sebastopol. Turkish independence must be maintained, and
that could not be unless the Western powers granted their assistance.
Thus was war inevitably thrust upon them.
[[A.D. 1854.]] The Russian ambassador left London on the seventh of
February, and on the same day the English {411}ambassador was recalled.
Towards the close of the month a formal declaration of war was issued.
Meanwhile, regiments were constantly passing through London, and
embarking for action in the East. The queen thus describes one in a
letter to King Leopold:--
"The last battalion of the Scotch Fusileers embarked to-day. They passed
through the court-yard here at seven o'clock in the morning. We stood
on the balcony to see them. The morning fine, the sun shining over the
towers of Westminster Abbey, and an immense crowd collected to see the
fine men, and cheering them immensely, as with difficulty they marched
along. They formed line, presented arms, and then cheered us very
heartily and went off cheering. It was a touching and beautiful sight.
Many sorrowing friends were there, and we saw the shake of many a hand.
My best wishes and prayers will be with them all."
A few days later the queen and prince visited the magnificent fleet at
Spithead under the command of Sir Charles Napier. "We are just starting
to see the fleet," wrote her majesty to Lord Aberdeen, "which is to sail
at once for its important destination. It will be a solemn moment! Many
a heart will be very heavy, and many a prayer, including our own, will
be offered up for its safety and glory."
Lord Raglan, an old pupil of the Duke of Wellington, who had lost his
right arm at Waterloo, was appointed to command the English forces,
and Marshal St. Arnaud those of the French. Their instructions were to
communicate with Omar Pasha, the Turkish commander, and then to decide
whether an immediate attack upon Sebastopol, the Crimean stronghold,
was advisable. The three commanders did consult, and did not altogether
relish the idea of such an attack; but it had been strongly urged by the
{412}English and French governments, and, therefore, was it undertaken.
On the fourteenth of September, twenty-seven thousand English, thirty
thousand French, and seven thousand Turks landed without opposition on
the shores of the Crimea. On the nineteenth they marched towards the
river Alma, and reached its banks at noon of the twentieth. Prince
Menschikoff thought his position invulnerable with his Russian
batteries, his artillery, and his dense masses of infantry covering
the hills; and when he saw the enemy approach, he began to congratulate
himself upon the glorious victory that he already considered assured. He
did not open fire on them as they crossed to his side of the river; that
was not in accordance with his plan. He had told the czar that he could
easily hold his position for three weeks; and so he would merely play
with the allied troops until his immense reinforcements arrived, and
then it would be so easy to pounce down upon them and crush them.
So certain did he feel of the result of a fight that some of the
precautions that a less arrogant general would have taken were entirely
unheeded. The consequence was, that after a desperate combat the allied
forces drove the Russians from the field and gained a complete victory.
If an immediate attack had been made upon Sebastopol in the face of
this victory, it might have been taken; but there was no Marlborough,
no Wellington, in the English army at that time, and the flying Russian
troops were not even pursued. Thus they gained time, not only to
consider the cause of their defeat, but to increase their defences.
On the third day after the battle, the allied troops gazed in wonder
at certain movements of the Russians in the Black Sea. "What were they
about?" was the question that was asked on all sides. "Were they going
to attack the
{413}
[Illustration: 0419]
{415}English and French ships?" It seemed so, for seven of their war
vessels were drawn up right to the very entrance of the harbor, and
under the very noses of the enemy. The operation was soon explained; for
slowly but surely did the seven vessels go down, down into the water,
until nothing was to be seen of them but the tops of their masts. Then
vanished all hope of a speedy capture of Sebastopol. Her harbor was as
impassable as though huge rocks guarded it.
Then the allied forces began a long, fatiguing march to Balaklava, which
lies south of Sebastopol, and has a port that would enable them to keep
communication between the army and the navy intact. They reached their
destination safely, stationed themselves on the heights above the
city, and with the fleet in the harbor prepared to attack Sebastopol
simultaneously by sea and land. On the seventeenth of October the attack
began; but the ships could not get near enough, on account of the sunken
war vessels to do very effective work, and so it proved a failure.
On the twenty-fifth, the Russians made an attack with the hope of
getting possession of Balaklava. The assault was bold and splendid, and
with boldness and splendor was it repulsed. It was during this battle
that the charge of the Light Brigade was made, of which Tennyson has
written in so spirited a manner:--
"'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Some one had blundered:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not the reason why,
Theirs but to do and die,--
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred."
Some one _had_ blundered, but exactly who has never {416}been entirely
settled. The officer who received the order was one of the first who
fell; and, of the six hundred and seven men who composed the Light
Brigade, only one hundred and ninety-eight returned. All the world
wondered at the magnificent charge.
"When can their glory fade?--" asks the Poet Laureate. Never while
courage and heroism are honored.
On the fifth of November the battle of Inkermann was fought during a
dark, heavy fog. This was the fiercest fight of the campaign, and took
place almost entirely in the dark. It was a hand-to-hand combat, and
the loss was very heavy on all sides. It was, however, a victory to
the allies; and the queen was so well pleased that she expressed her
admiration of Lord Raglan's generalship by conferring upon him the baton
of field-marshal.
Sir George Cathcart was one of the officers who lost his life in this
campaign, and the queen wrote a most touching letter of sympathy to
his widow. As a mark of regard to his memory, her majesty appointed his
daughter Emily one of her maids-of-honor.
The Russians behaved, as they always do, with the greatest barbarity.
"When poor Sir George Cathcart fell," writes the queen, "his faithful
and devoted military secretary sprang from his horse, and with one
arm--he was wounded in the other--supported his dying chief, when three
wretches came and bayoneted him." Such scenes were not at all uncommon;
and when the English or French soldiers were assisting the wounded enemy
that were left on the battlefield they always took the precaution to
deprive them of their arms; for it was not unusual for a Russian soldier
to receive a cup of water with one hand, and stab his benefactor in the
back with the other.
During the winter the suffering among the troops was very great. Cholera
had attacked them and thinned their {417}ranks to a great extent.
Men were dying by hundreds, because the hospitals were in such a bad
condition, and even the stores of food and medicines that were sent out
could not be got at. There was a lack of system and organization in the
army, which prevented supplies from reaching the proper places, and they
were often left to decay in the holds of vessels, or worse still, fell
into the hands of the Russians.
At last Sir Sidney Herbert remembered Miss Florence Nightingale, and
applied to her for relief. Miss Nightingale was the daughter of a
wealthy English country gentleman, who had made nursing a study. At
the time of the breaking out of the Crimean war she was engaged in
establishing an institution for training nurses after the plan of some
she had visited on the continent. To this lady, then, Sir Sidney turned,
and she consented at once to take charge of the Scutari hospital. She
went out to the Crimea with a corps of thirty-seven ladies, and from
the moment of her arrival no further complaints were made about hospital
regulations. She restored order as by a stroke of magic, and thousands
of sick and wounded soldiers were comforted by the tender nursing of
that corps of brave, self-sacrificing women.
The queen, the elder princess, and all the ladies of the court made
woolen comforters, mittens, and other warm clothing to be distributed in
the army, and their example was imitated by women in every part of the
kingdom.
The ministry at home were very much blamed for the lack of organization
in the army, and changes were made. Lord John Russell resigned, and
wrote to Lord Aberdeen, urging that Lord Palmerston should take charge
of the war department. Then the queen wrote to Lord Palmerston, asking
him "whether he could undertake to form an administration that would
command the confidence of parliament, {418}and properly conduct public
affairs." He accepted, and much to his surprise found himself prime
minister. Lord Panmure became minister of war.
Meanwhile negotiations for peace were begun at Vienna, and Lord John
Russell was sent there to represent England; On the second of March
the czar died very suddenly--it was said of pneumonia; but defeat and
blasted hopes had much to do with his fatal illness. People outside of
Russia did not seem very sorry; and it was ardently hoped that the
new czar would be more inclined for peace than his father, but the
conference at Vienna failed.
Then Louis Napoleon resolved to go to the Crimea himself, but England
interposed to prevent, and he met with discouragement at home also. His
next resolution was to make a visit to the queen, and having ascertained
that it would be welcome, he named April 16 for the day of his arrival.
The empress was to accompany him. The notice was short, but a splendid
suite of apartments was quickly prepared at Windsor Castle for the royal
guests.
The prince went down to Dover to meet them, but in consequence of
a dense fog it was noon before they landed. An enthusiastic welcome
greeted England's ally at every point; flags waved from the houses, and
triumphal arches had been erected, all festooned with bright banners
and flowers. Extracts from her majesty's diary will best describe the
arrival at Windsor.
[[A.D. 1855.]] "I advanced and embraced the emperor, who received two
salutes on either cheek from me, having first kissed my hand. I next
embraced the very gentle, graceful, and evidently very nervous empress.
We presented the children; the emperor embraced Bertie, and then we went
up stairs, Albert leading the empress, who, in the most engaging manner,
refused to go first,
{419}
[Illustration: 0425]
{421}but at length, with graceful reluctance, did so, the emperor
leading me, expressing his great gratification at being here and seeing
me.
"Nothing can be more civil or amiable or more well-bred than the
emperor's manner--so full of tact. A long walk after breakfast gave him
and Albert an opportunity, to discuss the war. The empress was as eager
as her husband that he should go to the Crimea. She sees no greater
danger for him there than elsewhere--in fact, than in Paris. She is
full of courage and spirit, and yet so gentle, with such innocent and
charming manners."
During the visit the emperor was invested with the Order of the Garter,
and on the nineteenth he and the empress were entertained at Guildhall,
by the city of London, at a grand banquet. They returned to the palace
in the evening, charmed with the way they had been received everywhere,
and later they attended the opera.
In the evening a council was held to decide upon future operations in
the Crimea, and the next day the royal guests took their departure.
While the emperor was in England, St. Arnaud had died at the seat of
war, and soon after news was brought of the death of Lord Raglan. The
former was succeeded by Canrobert, who soon resigned in favor of General
Pélissier, and the latter by General Simpson. Sardinia had come forward
as an ally, and her troops had distinguished themselves for bravery and
skill.
The visit of the emperor and empress had to be returned, so the queen,
Prince Albert, the Prince of Wales, and the princess royal embarked,
on the eighteenth of August, on board the "Victoria and Albert" for
Boulogne. The emperor stood on the quay with a brilliant retinue to
receive them, and conducted them to the railway station.
Arriving at St. Cloud, the royal guests were received by {422}the
empress "amidst a blaze of light from lamps and torches, the roar of
cannon, music, drums, and cheers."
"The saloons are splendid," writes the queen, "the ceilings are
beautifully painted, and the walls hung with gobelins. The saloon in
which we dined was terribly hot, for the table was covered with wax
lights, which quite dazzled me. Everything was magnificent, and all very
quiet and royal." This beautiful palace, which the queen describes
in her diary, is in ruins now,--not from age, but from the storm of
revolution that has destroyed so many fine buildings in and near Paris.
It might be tiresome to those of my readers who are not fond of
descriptions to follow the queen in her visits to all the interesting
places in Paris and its suburbs; so we will merely say that, after a
week of feasting and sight-seeing, she returned to Osborne with her
family, having cemented a warm friendship with the emperor and empress
of the French.
In September the glorious tidings of the fall of Sebastopol reached
England. A simultaneous attack of the French and English forces on the
two fortresses--Redan and Malakoff--had resulted in victory; and then
the Russians, finding that it would be useless to remain longer at
Sebastopol, left it a burning mass, with powder magazines exploding, and
flames bursting from every private and public building in the place. And
so the war came to a close, and a treaty of peace was signed in Paris on
the thirtieth of March. Turkey preserved her independence, and all the
Russian places that had been taken by the allies were restored.
[[A.D. 1856.]] Just before peace was declared, a domestic event claimed
the attention of the English royal family. This was a proposal from
Frederick William, Prince of Prussia, for the hand of the princess
royal. All parties inter-
{423}
[Illustration: 0429]
ested {425}were very much pleased, and Prince Albert wrote to Baron
Stockmar: "The young man laid his proposal before us this morning,
with the permission of his parents and of the king; we accepted it for
ourselves, but requested him to hold it in suspense as regards the other
party until after her confirmation. In the spring the young man wishes
to make his offer to herself, and possibly to come to us along with
his parents and his engaged sister. The seventeenth birthday is to
have elapsed before the actual marriage is thought of, and this will,
therefore, not come off till the following spring.... The young man is
to leave us again in a fortnight.... I have been much pleased with
him. His chiefly prominent qualities are great straightforwardness,
frankness, and honesty.... He speaks of himself as personally greatly
attracted to Vicky. That she will have no objection to make, I regard as
probable."
The next day the queen wrote in her diary: "Our dear Victoria was this
day engaged to Prince Frederick William of Prussia. He had already
spoken to us of his wishes; but we were uncertain, on account of her
extreme youth, whether he should speak to her himself or wait till he
came back again. However, we felt it was better he should do so, and
during our ride this afternoon up Craig-na-Ban, he picked a piece of
white heather (the emblem of "good luck"), which he gave to her; and
this enabled him to make an allusion to his hopes and wishes as they
rode down Glen Girnoch, which led to this happy conclusion."
The confirmation of the princess royal took place the following March
in the private chapel of Windsor Castle. The princess was led in by her
father, and followed by the queen, with the King of the Belgians. All
the royal children, the various members of the family, the ministers,
the great officers of state, the members of the household, and {426}many
of the nobility were present. The Bishop of Oxford and the Archbishop
of Canterbury performed the ceremony, and everything went off extremely
well.
The next domestic matter that occupied the attention of the royal
parents was a plan for the education of Prince Alfred, who had selected
the navy for his profession. In order that he might pursue his
studies without interruption, it was decided that he should have an
establishment of his own. The Royal Lodge at Windsor Park was therefore
fitted up for him, and Lieutenant John Cowell, a young officer of
Engineers, who had received a fine scientific education, was selected as
tutor.
The queen had always shown regard for the care of her wounded soldiers,
and took personal interest in the hospital arrangements at home. In
April she visited St. Mary's Hospital at Chatham, where four hundred
invalids were drawn up in the barrack square to receive her. After
passing through the suffering numbers, cheering them with kind smiles
and comforting words, the queen and prince entered the hospital, where
those who were not well enough to be in the open air were assembled.
Some of the poor fellows were frightfully crippled and disfigured;
but all felt flattered by their sovereign's interest in them, and many
displayed, with honest pride, the medals and other marks of honor that
they had won on the battlefield. Two days later her majesty visited
Aldershot, where a camp had been established. On a richly caparisoned
chestnut horse she rode forward to inspect the troops. They were drawn
up in two lines, fourteen thousand in number, and reached out a mile and
a half in length. Bayonets flashed in the sunlight as the men presented
arms, and the bands of the different regiments burst forth in strains of
welcome as their sovereign advanced. Having reached an elevated piece of
ground, her majesty, surrounded {427}by a brilliant suite, witnessed the
movements of the soldiers as they marched past her in a line. A grand
field-day followed, when the queen appeared again on horseback, wearing
the uniform of a field-marshal with the star and ribbon of the Garter,
and a dark blue riding-skin. The sight was more splendid than before;
the troops had mustered eighteen thousand strong this time, and
their manoeuvres under the command of General Knollys excited great
admiration.
During the same month there was a review of the fleet at Spithead. The
royal yacht steamed out of the harbor followed by private vessels,
all decked with flags and crowded with spectators, and, as they passed
through the double line of men-of-war, a royal salute was fired; and
this, added to the cheering of the men, produced a most exciting scene.
The fleet performed various evolutions afterwards, and then had a mimic
battle, which concluded the proceedings. Several more reviews, both
of the navy and army, took place this year, and her majesty laid the
corner-stone of a large military hospital which she had ordered to be
built near Nettey. "It is to bear my name," she wrote, "and is to be one
of the finest in Europe. Loving the brave army as I do, and having seen
so many of my poor sick and wounded soldiers, I shall watch over the
work with maternal anxiety."
An accident to the princess royal, in June, was the cause of a great
deal of anxiety to the queen. The young lady was melting sealing-wax by
a candle, to seal a letter, when her sleeve caught fire and her right
arm was severely burned from the elbow to the shoulder. Had assistance
not been near, the princess might have been burned to death; but two
ladies who were in the room acted with praiseworthy presence of mind,
and extinguished the flame with a hearth-rug. In a few weeks the wounds
were entirely healed. {428}In the autumn the court retired to Balmoral,
and one of the most distinguished visitors presented to the queen and
prince was Miss Florence Nightingale. The prince wrote of her: "She put
before us all the defects of our present military hospital system,
and the reforms that are needed. We are much pleased with her; she is
extremely modest." A fortnight later she became the queen's guest, and
Lord Panmure, the minister of war, was invited to meet her in order that
she might lay before him an account of all she had seen at the
Crimea, and her opinions as to the reforms that ought to be made. Miss
Nightingale was treated with all the honors due so perfect a woman and
so great a philanthropist.
[[A.D. 1857.]] When parliament opened in February, the queen gave an
account in her speech of how an insult had been offered to the British
flag by the Chinese, at Canton, which had rendered it necessary for
redress to be demanded by force of arms. The facts were these: A
Chinese-built vessel, called "The Arrow," sailing under a British flag,
had been boarded by a Chinese war-junk, and the crew carried off as
pirates. Sir John Bowring, the English governor at Hong-Kong, had
demanded satisfaction, which Yeh, the Chinese commissioner, had refused.
Thereupon the English fleet, under Admiral Michael Seymour, was sent to
enforce reparation as well as free admission of foreigners to the city
of Canton. Had Sir John Bowring not been so determined that the port of
Canton should, according to a former treaty, remain open to trade, the
matter might have been settled without a fight; but, as it was, the
Chinese were forced into a war which cost them dear.
In a few words the cause of the Chinese war is told; but it would
require thousands to recount the debate which arose in parliament as to
the action of the government, {429}which Lord Derby had challenged in
one house, and Mr. Cobden in the other. The question was, whether or
no the war was to be continued, whether or no Lord Palmerston was to
resign? "Let the noble lord, who complains that he is the victim of a
conspiracy, not only complain to the country,--let him appeal to it!"
said Mr. Disraeli at the close of a two nights' debate. The noble lord
did appeal to the country. He announced his policy to be, "to maintain
the rights, to defend the lives and properties of British subjects, to
improve our relations with China, and in the selection and arrangement
of the means for the accomplishment of those objects, to perform the
duty which they owed to the country." The elections which took place
soon after showed a clear gain to the ministry, and a glorious victory
for Lord Palmerston.
Two visitors must be mentioned, the one an American, the other a
Frenchman, who went to England about this time on important missions.
The American was Mr. Cyrus W. Field, who astonished the leading
merchants and scientific men, by announcing a plan which he had for
laying a telegraph line beneath the Atlantic to connect Europe and
the United States. The Frenchman was M. de Lesseps, who explained his
project for cutting a canal across the Isthmus of Suez. Both met with
opposition, and both plans were deemed impossible; but, as we know, both
have succeeded.
The Archduke Maximilian, brother to the Emperor of Austria, visited the
court in June. He was at that time engaged to the Princess Charlotte
of Belgium,--the woman afterwards known to all the world as "Poor
Carlotta." It was six years after this visit to London that the
Archduke Maximilian became Emperor of Mexico, where, by a turn of the
revolutionary wheel, he was ordered to be shot by President Juarez,
in 1867. Just before his sentence {430}was carried into execution,
Maximilian took out his watch, and, pressing a spring which concealed
a portrait of his wife, he kissed it, and gave it to a priest, saying:
"Carry this souvenir to Europe,--to my dear wife; and, if she be ever
able to understand you, say that my eyes closed with the impression of
her image, which I shall carry with me above. Poor Carlotta!" He had
reason to believe that his message never would be comprehended by his
wife, because, as all her bright hopes were blasted in Mexico, her mind
succumbed. When her husband was taken prisoner, she had gone to France,
and then to Rome to plead for help. She was refused, and insanity was
the result.
One of the most important movements this year was towards the
establishment of schools for the poorer classes. Prince Albert took a
lively interest in this matter; for it had astonished and pained him to
find that more than half of the children between the ages of three and
fifteen, in England and Wales, could neither read nor write, and the
remainder had only two years of school life. He made a speech urging
the necessity of compulsory education, and declared that parents must
be made to see that to secure education for their children was "not only
their most sacred duty, but also their highest privilege."
The title of Prince Consort was conferred by the queen on her husband
this year; she also distributed "the Victoria Cross," for the first
time. This ceremony took place at Hyde Park, and was intended as a
reward for bravery in the army and navy. These decorations had been
manufactured by the queen's order, and had inscribed on one side, "For
Valor." They were given only to men who had served in the presence of
the enemy, and had performed some signal act of bravery or devotion to
their country. The list of such names had been made out with great care,
and her majesty resolved to establish the order {431}by decorating the
heroes with her own hand. More than a hundred thousand people assembled
to witness the ceremony, and a vast semi-circle of seats had been
erected to hold about twelve thousand. Four thousand soldiers were
drawn up in a line, and between these and the royal pavilion were the
sixty-two brave fellows who were to be decorated.
At ten o'clock her majesty rode into the park mounted on a gray horse,
and dressed in a scarlet jacket, with a black skirt. She was accompanied
by the prince, Prince Frederick William of Prussia, and a brilliant
suite. The heroes were brought forward one by one, and her majesty
pinned the cross to the breast of each without leaving her seat in
the saddle. The prince saluted each man with profound respect as
he withdrew. It was a splendid spectacle, and the enthusiasm of the
multitude was very great.
Towards the end of June, news of the most alarming nature came from
India. It was that the native regiments had mutinied, and massacred in
cold blood the English officers, their wives, and children. An order
was immediately issued for twelve regiments of a thousand each, and
four thousand five hundred recruits, to be added to the army already in
India.
Although these reinforcements were to be sent, some doubt existed as to
whether the trouble was really so serious as was at first represented.
Before many days the government learned by telegraph that the mutiny was
almost universal in Bengal, and that thirty thousand men had deserted
from the army. Delhi was in possession of the mutineers, who had been
driven into the city with considerable loss. They still continued
to make a desperate resistance, and the city was to be assaulted
immediately.
There was no longer room for doubt; the English government and the whole
nation shuddered at the thought of {432}what horrible deeds might be
committed, should the mutiny become general throughout the country.
The death by cholera of the commander-in-chief for India had been
announced by telegraph, and Lord Palmerston wrote to the queen proposing
that Sir Colin Campbell should be sent out to take his place. This was
agreed upon, and Sir Colin started the next day. Bad news continued
to arrive from India, and Lord Canning wrote from Calcutta, urging the
increase of English troops, as the only means of crushing anarchy and
rebellion. But he knew the necessity for immediate action, and he could
not wait for troops to come all the way from England; he therefore
stopped those that were on their way to China, and pressed them into the
service.
We need not detail the horrors of the Sepoy war nor the treachery of the
never-to-be-forgotten fiend in human shape, Nana Sahib. It is enough
for us to know that one post after another succumbed to English arms and
English generalship, and the rebellion was finally stamped out.
This was a disastrous year in the commercial world; failure followed
failure, not only of private firms, but of banks, and the difficulty
was even greater in the United States than in Europe. Long years of
prosperity had led to reckless speculation, which was supposed to be the
chief cause of the trouble; but there were others besides.
[[A.D. 1858.]] The new year opened with preparations for the marriage of
the princess royal. The court removed from Windsor to Buckingham Palace
on the fifteenth of January, and by that time the guests who had been
invited to attend the wedding had begun to arrive. By the nineteenth
the palace was entirely filled. It contained besides the English royal
family, the King of the Belgians with his sons, the Prince and Princess
of Prussia, with their suites, and several princes and princesses.
{433}
[Illustration: 0439]
"Such a houseful!" says her majesty's diary, "such bustle and
excitement! Between eighty and ninety sit down to dinner at the royal
table daily." On the eighteenth many guests were invited for the
evening, and the diary says: "After dinner a party, and very gay, and
pretty dance. It was very animated, all the princes dancing.
Albert did not waltz. Ernest (the prince consort's brother) said it
seemed like a dream to him to see Vicky dance as a bride just as I did
eighteen years ago, and I still--so he said--looking very young. In 1840
poor dear papa (the late Duke of Coburg) danced with me as Ernest danced
with Vicky." {434}The first of the festivities in which the public took
part was at her Majesty's Theatre, on the nineteenth, when Macbeth was
performed with Miss Helen Faucit and Mr. Phelps in the leading parts.
The theatre was beautifully decorated with flowers, and the house was
filled to overflowing with a brilliant audience. After the play, "God
save the Queen," was sung, everybody rising, while those who could not
find room in the body of the house crowded upon the stage, and joined in
the patriotic song.
The next evening a grand ball, attended by a thousand guests, was given
at the palace, and on the following day a dinner. We now return to her
majesty's diary.
"Saturday, January 23.--Fine frost. Much excitement, but I feel
calm,--such bustle, such questions, and Albert torn to pieces. Latish
walks in the garden with Albert and our dear child. Albert went before
one to fetch Fritz, who had landed at half-past ten, and at half-past
one he arrived with an escort (as have all the visitors), and all the
court waiting for him below. I received him at the bottom of the stairs
very warmly; he was pale and nervous. At the top of the staircase Vicky
received him with Alice, and we went into the audience-room.
"January 24.--Poor, dear Vicky's last unmarried day,--an eventful one,
reminding me so much of mine.... After breakfast, we arranged in the
large drawing-room the gifts (splendid ones) for Vicky on two tables:
mamma's and ours on one, Fritz's, his parents', king's and queen's (of
Prussia), uncle's, Ernest's, and Alexandrine's (Duchess of Coburg) on
the other.... Fritz's pearls are the largest I ever saw,--one row. On
a third table were three fine candelabra, our gift to Fritz. The Prince
and Princess of Prussia, the children, mamma, William, all the princes,
and ourselves brought in Vicky and Fritz. She was in ecstasies,--quite
startled, and {435}Fritz delighted. Service at half-past eleven. The
Bishop of Oxford preached a fine sermon.
"Coming from a walk in the gardens of the palace after luncheon, we went
again to the present-room, where we found more gifts had been placed,
many from ladies, including a quantity of fancy work. From the Duchess
of Buccleuch, a splendid case with table ornaments set with coral. From
a gentleman of the household, a beautiful diamond and emerald bracelet.
Very busy,--interrupted and disturbed every instant. Dear Vicky gave me
a very pretty brooch before church with her hair, and clasping me in her
arms, said, 'I hope to be worthy to be your child!' When the duties of
hospitality for the day were over, we accompanied Vicky to her room,
kissed her, and gave her our blessing, and she was much overcome. I
pressed her in my arms, and she clung to her truly adored papa with much
tenderness.
"Monday, January 25.--The second most eventful day in my life as regards
feelings. I felt as if I were being married over again myself, only much
more nervous; for I had not that blessed feeling which I had then, which
raises and supports one, of giving myself up for life to him whom I
loved and worshipped, then and ever.... Got up, and while dressing,
Vicky came to see me, looking well and composed, and in a fine, quiet
frame of mind.... Gave her a pretty book, called 'The Bridal Offering.'"
Just before proceeding to the chapel royal at St. James's Palace, the
queen, the princess royal, and the prince were daguerreotyped together.
The queen says in her diary: "I trembled so that my likeness has come
out indistinct. Then came the time to go. The sun was shining brightly;
thousands had been out since very early, shouting, bells ringing, etc.
Albert and uncle in field-marshal's uniform, with batons. The two eldest
boys went first, then the {436}three girls in pink satin trimmed with
Newport lace, Alice with a wreath, and the two others with only bouquets
in their hair of corn-flowers and marguerites; next the four boys
in Highland dress. The hall was full. The flourish of trumpets, and
cheering of thousands, made my heart sink within me. Vicky was in a
carriage with me, sitting opposite.... At St. James's I took her into a
dressing-room prettily arranged, where were uncle, Albert, and the
eight bridesmaids, who looked charming in white tulle, with wreaths and
bouquets of pink roses, and white heather. We went into 'the closet'
(this is a room which on court days only the royal family are allowed to
enter), where mamma, in violet velvet trimmed with ermine and white
and violet silk, and the Cambridges were. All the foreign princes and
princesses except uncle, the Prince of Prussia, and Prince Albert of
Prussia, were already in the chapel.
"Then the procession was formed, mamma last before me. Then Lord
Palmerston with the sword-of-state; then Bertie and Alfred. I, with the
two little boys on either side, and the three girls behind. The effect
was very solemn and impressive as we passed through the rooms, down the
staircase, and across a covered court.
"The chapel, though too small, looked extremely imposing and well, full
as it was of so many elegantly-dressed ladies, uniforms, etc. The
drums and trumpets played marches, and the organ played others as the
procession approached and entered. There was a pause between each, but
not a very long one, and the effect was thrilling and striking, as you
heard the music gradually coming nearer and nearer. Fritz looked pale
and much agitated, but behaved with great self-possession, bowing to
us and then kneeling down in a most devotional manner. Then came the
bride's procession, and our darling flower looked {437}very touching and
lovely, with such an innocent, confident, and serious expression, her
veil hanging back over her shoulders, walking between her beloved father
and dearest Uncle Leopold, who had been at her christening and her
confirmation.
"My last fear of being overcome vanished on seeing Vicky's quiet, calm,
and composed manner. It was beautiful to see her kneeling with Fritz,
their hands joined, and the train borne by the eight young ladies, who
looked like a cloud of maidens hovering around her as they knelt near.
Dearest Albert took her by the hand and gave her away. The music was
very fine; the archbishop very nervous; Fritz spoke very plainly; Vicky,
too.
"When the ceremony was over we both embraced Vicky tenderly, but she
shed not one tear, and then she kissed her grandmamma, and I, Fritz.
She then went up to her new parents, the dear prince and princess of
Prussia, who were both much moved, Albert shaking hands with them, and
I kissing both, and pressing their hands with a most happy feeling. Then
the bride and bridegroom left, hand-in-hand, followed by the supporters
of the train, the "Wedding March," Mendelssohn being played, and we
all went up to the Throne Room to sign the register. Here general
congratulations, shaking hands with all the relations,--I with all the
Prussian princes. The young couple signed first, then the parents of
both, and all the princes and princesses present. I felt so moved and
overjoyed that I could have embraced everybody. I shook hands with Lord
Clarendon and Lord Palmerston. Vicky gave very pretty lockets to her
bridesmaids.
"The young couple returned to Buckingham Palace together, and we with
the prince and princess of Prussia. Tremendous crowd and cheering as
we passed. The young couple stepped out on the balcony and showed
{438}themselves, we and the prince and princess of Prussia standing with
them."
After the wedding-breakfast the bride and bridegroom drove away to
Windsor Castle; and in the evening a messenger brought a letter from the
princess to her mother telling her that the Eton boys had dragged the
carriage from the railway station to the castle, and that they had been
welcomed by immense crowds with the greatest enthusiasm.
Two days later (twenty-seventh), the court removed to Windsor, where the
bridegroom was invested with the Order of the Garter.
On the thirtieth addresses were presented to the young couple from all
the large towns and cities, many of them accompanied by rare and costly
presents. Then there was a drawing-room, which was unusually brilliant,
and lasted four hours."
On Monday, February 1, the queen wrote in her diary:--
"The last day of our dear child's being with us, which is incredible,
and makes me at times quite sick at heart.
"I clasped her in my arms and blessed her, and knew not what to say. I
kissed good Fritz, and pressed his hand again and again. He was unable
to speak, and the tears were in his eyes. I embraced them both again
at the carriage door, and Albert got into the carriage with them, and
Bertie. Alfred and George (Duke of Cambridge) in the next; the band
struck up. I pressed the hand of General Schreckenstein and the good
Dean of Windsor, and then went quickly up stairs.
"A dreadful moment and a dreadful day. Such sickness came over me, real
heartache, when I thought of our dearest child being gone, and for
so long--all, all being over! It began to snow before Vicky went, and
continued {439}to do so without intermission all day. At times I could
be quite cheerful, but my tears began to flow afresh frequently, and
I could not go near Vicky's corridor. Everything recalled the time now
passed.
"At four my beloved Albert returned with the two boys, _very_ sad, and
my grief again burst forth. The separation had been dreadful. Albert
seemed much impressed by it. Nothing could exceed the loyalty,
enthusiasm, and feeling shown by the countless thousands in the city,
and again at Gravesend, where the decorations were beautiful. Young
girls with wreaths, in spite of the snow, walked on the pier strewing
flowers.
"Albert had waited to see the ships leave,--what a moment it must have
been!--but Vicky did not come on deck. The sight of the darling baby
(Princess Beatrice) even made me sad, as dear Vicky loved her so much,
and only yesterday played with her!"
The young princess made a most favorable impression among the Berliners;
for her manners were charming, and she had the rare gift of being able
to say the right thing at the right time and in the right place. From
the moment when her engagement to the Prince of Prussia was thought of,
her father had given her daily instruction in the studies that would
be of the greatest service in the position she was to fill. A prominent
statesman of Germany wrote of her a few weeks after her arrival in her
new home: "She sees more clearly and more correctly than many a man of
commanding intellect, because, while possessing an acute mind and the
purest heart, she does not know the word 'prejudice.'"
{440}