ROYALTY AND THE WAR.
Financing the War--The Queen’s Opinion of War Loans--A Dreadful
Winter--Distress in the Country--The “Devil” in Devonshire--Bread
Riots--War Loans and a War Budget--The Queen and the Wounded
Soldiers--Her Condemnation of “the Hulks”--Presentation of War
Medals in Hyde Park--Visit of the Emperor and Empress of the
French--A Plot to Capture the Queen--Councils of War at
Windsor--The Grand Chapter of the Order of the Garter--Imperial
Compliments--Napoleon III. in the City--At the Opera--The Queen’s
Birthday Gift to the Emperor--Scarlet Fever at Osborne--Prorogation
of Parliament--A Court Intrigue with Dom Pedro of Portugal--The
Queen Visits Paris--Her Reception at St. Cloud--The Ball at the
Hôtel de Ville--Staring at the “Koh-i-noor”--At the Tomb of the
Great Emperor--Prince Bismarck’s Introduction to the Queen--Home
again--Lord Clarendon on the Queen’s Visit to Paris--How the Prince
of Wales Enjoyed himself--At Balmoral--The Bonfire on Craig
Gowan--Sebastopol Rejoicings--“A Witches’ Dance supported by
Whisky”--Courtship of the Princess Royal--Prince Frederick William
of Prussia--His Proposal of Marriage--Attacks of the _Times_--Visit
of Victor Emmanuel--His Reputation in Paris--Memorial of the
Grenadier Guards--Fresh Charges against Prince Albert--His
Vindication of the Crimean Officers.
Early in 1855 her Majesty became anxious, not to say nervous, as to the
plans that were to be adopted for financing the war. Her personal
prepossessions were all in favour of Mr. Gladstone’s policy--which was
that of meeting expenditure out of current revenue. But then the cost of
the campaign was now so enormous that it was impossible to increase
taxation so as to cover it. The winter had been severe. Though the end
of December and the first thirteen days of January had been like summer,
during the night of the 13th, says Sir F. Hastings Doyle, “the wind
shifted suddenly to the N.N.E., and a savage frost came on which lasted
at least two months without intermission or abatement.”[220] Outdoor
workers found themselves without employment. Gangs of hungry-eyed
labouring men began to parade the streets of London, levying black-mail
on well-to-do householders. Ultimately mobs of roughs attacked and
plundered the bakers’ and chandlers’ shops in the East End on the 21st
and 22nd of February, and in Liverpool, where some 15,000 riverside
labourers were out of work, terrible scenes of riot and outrage were
enacted. It was a time when the abstraction of capital from the country
by raising a war loan would be a slight evil, compared with that which
might follow from the imposition of heavy war taxes on a discontented
and suffering industrial population. It was therefore decided that the
cost of the war should be met by a loan.
Sir George Cornewall Lewis brought forward his Budget on the 30th of
April. He could estimate for a prospective revenue of £63,000,000. This,
however, still left him with a deficit of £23,000,000, which he raised
(1), by a Three per Cent. Loan of £16,000,000; (2), by an addition to
taxation which brought in £4,000,000; (3), by raising £3,000,000 on
Exchequer Bills. “The additional taxes,” Sir George Lewis wrote to his
friend Sir E. Head, “were, however, assented to without resistance by
the House, who feared a larger addition to the Income Tax, and thought
that if they objected to my proposition, taxes which they disliked still
more would be substituted.” As for the loan, the Money Market, he says,
“was in a state favourable for such an operation; for at present there
is an abundance of money, but a want of profitable investment for the
purpose of trade.”[221] The loan of £2,000,000 to Sardinia was
sanctioned without much demur, but the loan of £5,000,000 to Turkey was
violently objected to--especially by the Tories and Cobdenites. It was
raised under the joint guarantee of France and England--an arrangement
which many people thought might create disputes between the guarantors.
Lord Palmerston, in fact, only carried the loan through by a vote of 135
to 132. Lord Aberdeen’s followers opposed the transaction, and their
opposition was resented by the Queen, who had already concluded and
ratified the arrangement with the French Emperor for guaranteeing the
loan.
[Illustration: THE WOUNDED SOLDIER’S TOAST--“THE QUEEN!”]
In other respects, however, the relations of the Court to the war were
less open to criticism. It has already been stated how her Majesty
toiled with her own hands to aid those who were striving to mitigate the
sufferings of the army during the Crimean winter. She wrote a letter to
the Commander-in-Chief on the subject that touched the heart of every
soldier in camp or hospital. Mr. Augustus Stafford, in the debate on Mr.
Roebuck’s motion in the House of Commons (26th of January), thrilled his
audience by telling them how he saw a wounded man, after hearing the
letter read, propose the Queen’s health in a draught of bark and
quinine. Mr. Stafford said to him it was a bitter cup for a loyal toast;
to which the man replied, with a smile, “Yes, and but for these words of
the Queen I could not have got it down.” Nor was her Majesty less
assiduous in her attention to the wounded, when their haggard and
mournful contingents began to return. On the 3rd of March she went down
to Chatham with her husband and her two eldest sons to inspect the
Military Hospital at Fort Pitt and Brompton. The wounded men who could
crawl from their beds were drawn up on the lawn, each bearing a card
with a description of his name, services, and wounds. Along this gaunt
array the Queen passed, sad-eyed and thoughtful, speaking a few kind and
cheering words to the sufferers whose wounds or services especially
attracted her notice. Contemporary reports of course stated that the
Sovereign was well pleased with the manner in which those poor men were
treated. But two days afterwards she sent a sharp letter to Lord
Panmure, which showed that she had been using her eyes to good purpose
during her inspection. He must, she says, have some really serviceable
military hospitals built for the sick without delay. The poor men at
Fort Pitt were well treated; but, she complains, “the buildings are
bad--the wards more like prisons than hospitals, with the windows so
high that no one can look out of them--and the most of the wards are
small, with hardly space to walk between the beds.” Her criticisms on
the dining arrangements are trenchant; and then she goes on to argue
that though Lord Panmure’s plan of building hulks may do very well at
first, it will not do for any length of time. “A hulk,” she contends,
“is a very gloomy place, and these poor men require their spirits to be
cheered, as much as to have their physical sufferings attended to. The
Queen is particularly anxious on this subject, which is, she may truly
say, constantly in her thoughts, as, indeed, is everything connected
with her beloved troops, who have fought so bravely and borne so
heroically all their sufferings and privations.”[222]
“I myself,” said Queen Elizabeth to her troops at Tilbury, “will be your
general and your judge, and the rewarder of every one of your virtues in
the field.” If Queen Victoria has never either in statecraft or power
attained the position held by that leonine woman, she did not fail to
emulate her in her devotion to the gallant men who bled and died for
England in the desolate Chersonese. The Queen’s visit to the hospital at
Chatham, and her reception there by the soldiers, prompted her to take
the unusual course of suggesting to Lord Clarendon, on the 22nd of
March, that she should with her own hands present war medals to the
officers and men who were at home disabled or on leave. On the 18th of
May a Royal daïs was accordingly put up in the centre of the Horse
Guards parade ground, with barriers enclosing from the crowd of
spectators, a space for the heroes of the ceremony. At eleven o’clock
the Queen, Prince Albert, and their family appeared, and at a signal the
soldiers who were to be decorated stood before her. They passed along in
single file, each handing a card recording his name and services to an
officer, who delivered it to the Queen. She then presented each hero
with his medal, saying a kindly word to every man as he went by. It was
a strange and impressive spectacle. Gaunt, pallid forms, maimed and
[Illustration: THE QUEEN DISTRIBUTING THE CRIMEAN MEDAL AT THE
HORSEGUARDS PARADE GROUND.]
mutilated, hobbled along on crutches--or staggered forward, aided by
walking-sticks--and for officers and men alike the Queen had words of
sympathy that drew tears from many an eye. From the highest Prince of
the blood--the Duke of Cambridge was the first to step forward for his
medal--to the humblest private, writes the Queen to King Leopold, “all
received the same distinction for the bravest conduct in the severest
actions, and the rough hands of the brave and honest private soldier
came for the first time in contact with that of their Sovereign and
their Queen. Noble fellows! I feel as if they were my own children; my
heart beats for them as for my nearest and dearest.”[223] Captain
Currie, of the 14th, was so feeble that he almost failed to reach the
daïs on his crutches, and his condition profoundly touched the heart of
the Queen. Captain Sayer, of the 23rd Fusiliers, could not be lifted out
of his chair, so the Queen bent over him gracefully and pinned his medal
to his breast, with a few words of comfort and hope. Colonel Sir T.
Troubridge, of the 7th Fusiliers, who, when he had both his feet shot
away at Inkermann, refused to leave his command till the battle was won,
was also unable to leave his chair. When the Queen gave him his medal
she whispered in his ear that she would reward his courage by making him
one of her own aides-de-camp, whereupon he answered, “I am now amply
repaid for everything.” It was a scene which moved the hearts of all who
took part in it, with the exception, perhaps, of the brusque and
churlish Secretary of State for War. Lord Malmesbury says, “After the
ceremony, Lady Seymour, whom I met, told me that Mrs. Norton, talking
about it to Lord Panmure, asked, ‘Was the Queen touched?’ ‘Bless my
soul, no!’ was the reply. ‘She had a brass railing in front of her, and
no one could touch her.’ Mrs. Norton then said, ‘I mean was she moved?’
‘Moved!’ answered Lord Panmure, ‘she had no occasion to move.’ Mrs.
Norton then gave it up in despair.”[224]
When the Emperor of the French first hinted at his intention of going to
the Crimea, the idea frightened everybody. His own _entourage_, knowing
his ignorance of the art of war, and convinced that defeat meant ruin
for him and for them, were in despair. The Queen, too, was alarmed,
because she foresaw infinite danger from the scheme. The Emperor would
naturally desire to take supreme command of both armies, whereas the
English people would not permit British troops to serve under a foreign
sovereign, whose antecedents were doubtful, and whose friendship was
uncertain. The French and English Governments therefore privately
suggested to the Queen that she should now invite the Emperor and
Empress to pay their promised visit to England, hoping that the Queen’s
influence might be used for the purpose of preventing him from
proceeding to the seat of war.[225] The invitation was accepted, and
the rooms in Windsor which had been occupied by the Czar Nicholas and
King Louis Philippe were set apart for the Imperial guests.
[Illustration: WINDSOR CASTLE FROM THE BROCAS.]
At noon on the 16th of April, after some mishaps in the dense fog which
shrouded the Channel, the Imperial yacht reached the Admiralty Pier at
Dover, where Prince Albert was waiting to receive his guests. The Prince
went on board, shook hands with the Emperor, and then going down to the
cabin reappeared with the Empress on his arm. They landed amidst
complimentary salvoes of artillery from the castle, the salutes of the
military, and the ringing cheers of the crowd. The Royal party then
proceeded to London, and when they arrived at the Bricklayers’ Arms
Station, they found dense masses of people assembled to welcome them.
Their route lay along the line of streets leading to the Great Western
station, where they took train for Windsor. Lord Malmesbury writes in
his Diary, “Lady Ossulton, Lady Manners, my wife and I went to Lord
Carrington’s house in Whitehall to see the Emperor of the French pass.
The weather was beautiful and bright, the streets were choked with
people. The _cortège_ made its appearance at 6.15 p.m.; there were but
six open carriages, four of them escorted by a squadron of Life Guards,
and a good many outriders in scarlet liveries. They passed very slowly
at a walk
[Illustration: THE QUEEN INVESTING THE EMPEROR OF THE FRENCH WITH THE
ORDER OF THE GARTER.]
and were enthusiastically cheered the whole way from the South Eastern
to the Great Western terminus.... On going up St. James’s Street, the
Emperor was seen to point out to the Empress the house where he formerly
lived in King Street. This was at once understood by the crowd, who
cheered louder than ever. On passing the Horse Guards the Emperor stood
up in his carriage and saluted the colours, and was of course immensely
cheered.”[226] At Windsor the excitement was intense, and the Queen was
on tiptoe of expectation. Referring to the arrival of the visitors, she
writes, “I cannot say what indescribable emotions filled me--how much
all seemed like a wonderful dream. These great meetings of sovereigns,
surrounded by very exciting accompaniments, are always very
agitating.”[227] Her Majesty advanced and the Emperor kissed her hand.
She saluted him once on each cheek, and then, as she says, “embraced the
very gentle, very graceful, and evidently very nervous Empress.” The
Duke of Cambridge and the Prince of Leiningen and the Royal children
were presented--“Vicky (now Princess Imperial of Germany) with very
alarmed eyes making very low curtesies.” In the Throne Room other
presentations followed. At dinner, however, the Emperor put the Queen
quite at her ease. He assumed the soft, low voice and the melancholy
manner of the hero of some romance of mystery. They talked about the
war--the Queen gently dissuading him from going to the Crimea, he
mournfully expressing his apprehension of disasters unless he went out,
and complaining of the blunders of the generals. Next morning (the 17th)
the subject was renewed during a long walk after breakfast. This time
the Empress was eager in pressing the Emperor to proceed to Sebastopol,
where, she said with truth, he was perhaps safer than in Paris. In the
afternoon the Royal Family and their Imperial guests reviewed the
Household troops, surrounded by gay crowds, full of effusive enthusiasm
for our Allies. At dinner they discussed the manifold iniquities of
Austria, and mourned over her decadence, because she would not fight to
vindicate a plan for reducing the Russian navy in the Black Sea to six
ships instead of eight. At night there was a ball in the Waterloo
Room--an odd place in which to find the granddaughter of George III.
dancing with the nephew of Napoleon I. The sombre memories of the hall,
however, did not prevent the Queen’s guest from dancing, as she herself
records, “with great dignity and spirit.” Next morning (the 18th) at
breakfast the Emperor received a telegram announcing the death of M.
Ducos, the Minister of Marine,[228] and at eleven o’clock a grand
Council of War was held in the Emperor’s rooms, at which those present
were Prince Albert, Lords Palmerston, Panmure, Hardinge, and Cowley,
Sir Charles Wood, Sir John Burgoyne, Count Walewski, and Marshal
Vaillant. “Something should be done somewhere, and by somebody in the
Crimea,” seems to have been the resolution to which the council came.
Though unanimous in urging the Emperor not to go there, it failed to
convince him that he ought to stay at home. In the afternoon Prince
Albert, when out walking with the Emperor, submitted a plan of his own
for reorganising the Allied Forces, which the Emperor approved. It was
sent on to Palmerston, Panmure, Hardinge, and Burgoyne, and they
resolved to draw up a memorandum on the subject for the next Conference.
The Council of War of the 18th sat on from 11 till 2 p.m., and at 4 p.m.
a Grand Chapter of the Order of the Garter was held in the Throne
Room--the Emperor being invested with the insignia of the Order--in all
the pomp and circumstance of Royal State. The Queen sat at the head of
the table with a vacant chair on her right hand; Garter King-at-Arms
summoned each Knight in the order of his creation, beginning with the
Marquis of Exeter and ending with Lord Aberdeen. The Prelate of the
Order read the new statute dispensing with existing statutes in favour
of the Emperor of the French, who was then introduced by Prince Albert
and the Duke of Cambridge. The Queen and the assembled Knights stood up
to receive the Emperor, who passed on and sat in the chair on the
Queen’s right hand. Her Majesty having proclaimed the Emperor’s
election, the King-at-Arms presented the Garter to the Queen, who,
assisted by her husband, buckled it on the Emperor’s left leg, after
which she placed the riband over his Majesty’s left shoulder, the
Chancellor of the Order pronouncing the admonition. The accolade was
then presented to the new Knight, and the ceremony was over. “It is one
bond the more,” said the Emperor as he walked with the Queen to his
apartments--“I have given my oath of fidelity to your Majesty and to
your country.” But all the world knows, neither bond nor oath was strong
enough to prevent him from subsequently intriguing with Russia against
England, when the Congress of Paris met to settle the questions raised
by the sudden termination of the Crimean War. Yet, the Imperial
flatteries served the purpose of the moment, for the Queen wrote, “These
words are very valuable from a man like him, who is not profuse in
phrases, and who is very steady of purpose.”[229] After dinner her
Majesty seems to have been chiefly amused by Marshal Vaillant’s
confidential conversation with her, in which he manifested great terror
lest the Emperor would take command of the Army in the Crimea. In the
evening there was an orchestral concert. “The Queen, Emperor, and
Empress,” writes Lord Malmesbury, “with the Royal Family, their suites,
and those invited to the banquet, entered soon after ten, and seated
themselves without speaking to any one. As soon as music was over the
company passed before the Queen and Emperor.... The Queen had arranged
everything herself, made out the lists of invitations for both parties
at Windsor, and the concert for to-morrow at Buckingham Palace. Very
few, except Cabinet Ministers, are asked twice. Even Lady Breadalbane,
who is one of the Court, was invited only for the evening party last
night, and had to sleep at a pastrycook’s, there being no room at the
Castle.”[230]
[Illustration: THE WATERLOO ROOM, WINDSOR CASTLE.]
Next day (the 19th) the Emperor and Empress had to visit the City, and
hosts and guests seemed alike sad and nervous when the Royal party set
forth. There was just a chance that some sufferer from the crime of
December, 1851, might wreak his vengeance on the perpetrator of it. The
Lord Mayor and Corporation, however, gave their guests a splendid
reception. London decked itself forth with loyal bunting. Crowds cheered
the Emperor and Empress on their way, and the town rang with “_Partant
pour la Syrie_,” which dismal air Cockneydom in those days preferred to
the “Marseillaise,” as the symbol of the French alliance, and, perhaps,
also as being less trying to the nerves of its guest.[231] The
Corporation gave their Imperial visitor a sumptuous banquet. With
characteristic delicacy of taste they served him with sherry, which
[Illustration: THE ROYAL AND IMPERIAL VISIT TO THE CRYSTAL PALACE: THE
PROCESSION DOWN THE NAVE.]
they produced proudly, because it was from the famous butt that had been
bought for £600 by Napoleon I. in his palmy days. In the evening the
Imperial visitors went with the Queen to the opera, where _Fidelio_ was
played. “We literally drove through a sea of human beings,” writes the
Queen, “cheering and pressing near the carriage.”[232] When the Royal
party appeared after the first act was over, the audience in Her
Majesty’s Theatre rose and hailed them with deafening cheers, the Queen
leading the Emperor and Prince Albert the Empress forward, so as to
emphasise the fact that they were especially the objects of this
demonstrative greeting.[233] Next day, the 20th of April, was the
Emperor’s birthday. When the Queen congratulated him in the morning it
seems he looked confused, because for the moment he had forgotten all
about the event. He, however, kissed her hand gratefully when she
presented him with her gift--a little pencil-case--and was much touched
with the other present he received--“two violets, the flower of the
Bonapartes--from Prince Arthur.”[234] Amidst great crowds cheering most
enthusiastically the Royal party drove to the Crystal Palace. They went
through the building in perfect privacy, and then walked on to the
balcony to see the fountains play. But when they returned to luncheon
they found that quite a crowd of sightseers had been admitted, and were
lining the avenue of the nave. It was a trying moment. The rows of
spectators through which the Royal party had to walk were almost
touching them, and Emperor and Empress both dreaded assassination. The
Queen, nervous as she was, courageously took the Emperor’s arm, feeling
sure her presence would protect him; and so the day passed without any
unpleasantness. In the evening there was another meeting of the Grand
Council of War, the Queen being present. Again the Council failed to
decide on a plan of operations. But it was admitted that they could come
to an agreement as to the stake to be played for in the game of war, and
this agreement, under seven heads, was drawn up by Prince Albert, and
signed by Marshal Vaillant and Lord Panmure.[235] Next day (the 21st)
the guests left amidst tender farewells on both sides. At Lady
Malmesbury’s dinner-party that day, Lord Adolphus Fitzclarence told the
company that the leave-taking was very affecting. “Everybody cried--even
the _suite_. The Queen’s children began, as the Empress had been very
kind to them, and they were sorry to lose them, and this set off the
Maids of Honour.”[236] The Emperor’s last words to the Queen were, “I
believe that having spent my birthday with your Majesty will bring me
good luck, that and the little pencil-case you gave me.”[237] The Queen
wrote in her Diary, “I am glad to have known this extraordinary man,
whom it is certainly impossible not to like when you live with him, and
not even to a considerable extent to admire.... I believe him to be
capable of kindness, affection, friendship, and gratitude.” Prince
Albert’s admiration, on the other hand, was not quite so unqualified,
and the Queen notes that he preferred the Empress to the Emperor. When
the Emperor returned to Paris he found that his reception in England had
done much to increase his _prestige_. But he also discovered that he
must abandon his intention of going to the Crimea. On the 25th of April
he communicated this welcome news to the Queen in a letter abounding
with engaging expressions of gratitude, for her kindness and hospitality
to him and his Imperial consort.
On the 28th of June Prince Albert writes to Stockmar saying, “Uncle
Leopold comes on Tuesday with Philippe and Carlo, and by the end of the
week we purpose to get away from the thoroughly used-up air of London.
The political folly and the levity of parties and the press, amidst the
terrible mass of business, makes our head reel.”[238] When these
visitors reached Osborne they found the Queen depressed and sorrowful.
Scarlet fever had attacked the Princes Arthur and Leopold and the
Princess Louise, and her Majesty was naturally afraid lest her young
Belgian relatives might be smitten also. Fortunately this peril was
avoided, and the Queen, encouraged by the approaching prorogation of
Parliament, gradually regained her cheerfulness. She had suffered from
intense anxiety during the Session, and it was with a deep sense of
relief that she found herself able to prorogue both Houses by Commission
on the 14th of August. The Speech from the Throne dwelt on the
advantages derived from cementing the French alliance. The Legislature
was also congratulated on having passed several useful measures--amongst
which those establishing local self-government in the metropolis,
sanctioning the formation of Limited Liability Companies, and abolishing
the stamp duty on newspapers, may be mentioned.
The allusion to the French alliance was made with skill and tact. “You
will come to Paris this summer,” said the Emperor to the Queen when he
was bidding her farewell at Windsor. “Yes,” she replied, “if my public
duties do not prevent me.” These duties it was now obvious would in no
way prevent her, and it was therefore determined that the Queen and her
husband should spend eight days with the Emperor and Empress. The visit
was to begin on the 18th of August, and before that day came round the
British fleet in the Baltic and the allied armies in the Crimea had won
some slight successes, which rendered the war a little less unpopular
than it had been in France. Still, despite the victory at Tchernaya, it
was unpopular. France, according to Frenchmen, was spending blood and
treasure for English interests. The alliance between the two countries
was giving England the time and experience needed to improve her
defective military system--leaving her in relation to France stronger
than ever. As for the political parties--Legitimists, Orleanists, and
Democrats--they looked on the Queen’s visit with hostility, because it
was meant to strengthen the hands of a usurper, whom they all hated. The
visit therefore was not made under auspicious circumstances. Just before
the Queen started on this journey the King of Portugal arrived at
Osborne, and on the 4th of August the Prince tells Stockmar how they had
to lodge him on their yacht, to keep him out of danger from scarlet
fever--the two eldest children in the Royal Family having alone escaped
the malady. Many visits were interchanged, however, between the King and
the Queen and Prince Albert. The Queen, indeed, at the request of her
Ministers, had agreed to persuade King Pedro to join us in the war, a
proposal which he, however, very sensibly rejected.[239]
It was in the early dawn of Saturday, the 18th of August, that the Queen
and Prince Albert, accompanied by the Prince of Wales and the Princess
Royal, embarked at Osborne, and, escorted by a steam squadron, proceeded
to Boulogne, where they arrived at one o’clock in the afternoon. Salutes
of cannon from the heights, volleys of musketry from the troops, and
enthusiastic cheers from the people greeted the visitors. When the Royal
yacht came to the pier the Emperor hastened on board, saluted the Queen,
kissing her hand and both cheeks, and then shook hands with Prince
Albert, the Prince of Wales, and the Princess Royal. The Queen and her
family drove to the station, the Emperor and Marshal Magnan riding on
each side of her carriage. They took train to Paris, where they were
cordially received. From the terminus of the Strasbourg Railway to the
Palace of St. Cloud the houses were all in festal array, and 200,000
National Guards formed a double line for five miles along the route.
This brilliant display was somewhat lost on the Queen, for her arrival
was delayed till seven in the evening. She, however, had the pleasure of
seeing Paris under the flare of illumination, and when she approached
the Arc de Triomphe her escort carried blazing torches, which gave a
strange picturesque effect to the scene. She was welcomed to the Palace
of St. Cloud, which had been set apart for her, by the Empress and the
ladies and high officers of the household; and Prince Albert describes
their reception by the people as “splendid” and “enthusiastic.” The
Queen says in her Diary, “I felt bewildered but enchanted--everything is
so beautiful.” Sunday, the 19th, was devoted to a quiet morning drive
with the Emperor, who was in high spirits over the Crimean news, and to
church-going--service being held in one of the rooms of the palace by
the chaplain to the British Embassy. Then there was a charming drive in
the afternoon to Neuilly, and later on a dinner-party, at which
Canrobert appeared, almost fresh from the Crimean trenches. He sat next
the Queen, and was surprised to find that she was nearly as well
acquainted with the details of the war as he was himself. On Monday, the
20th, the Emperor escorted his guests to breakfast--“the coffee quite
excellent, and all the cookery very plain and very good,” writes the
Queen, and served “on a small round table as we have at home.” A visit
to the Exhibition of Fine Arts, luncheon at the Elysée, a long drive
through the chief streets of Paris, and a theatrical performance in the
evening (at the Palace) of the _Demoiselles de St. Cyr_, formed the
programme. Tuesday, the 21st, was dedicated to a visit to the Palace of
Versailles and the Trianon, associated with mournful memories of Marie
Antoinette and the ladies of her court, who used to retire at times to
this retreat to play at Arcadian simplicity. In the evening, after
dinner, the Queen and her hosts went to the Opera, where her Majesty’s
reception was most cordial and gratifying. The notabilities of Parisian
society were there, and they were all charmed with the easy, cheerful,
high-spirited bearing of the Queen. On Wednesday, the 22nd, she visited
the Exhibition of Industry, remarking that the English exhibits of china
were the most striking. Then she drove to
[Illustration: THE QUEEN AT THE FÊTE IN THE FOREST OF ST. GERMAIN.]
the Tuileries, and accepted an invitation from the Préfet and the
Municipality of Paris to a ball at the Hôtel de Ville. The Queen, Prince
Albert, the Prince of Wales, and Princess Royal next drove through Paris
_incognito_, and in the evening were entertained at a great dinner, at
which eighty guests were present. At this dinner the Queen and the
Emperor talked long and earnestly over the Anglo-French alliance--he
telling her that Drouyn de Lhuys had suggestively reminded him how Louis
Philippe became unpopular because of his alliance with England; the
Queen retorting that it was not Louis Philippe’s friendship with
England, but his insincerity and treachery, which caused his fall. On
Thursday, the 24th, the Louvre was visited, and in the evening the Queen
attended the ball at the Hôtel de Ville--the opening quadrille being
danced by her Majesty, the Emperor, Prince Albert, the Princess
Mathilde, Prince Napoleon, Lady Cowley, Prince Aldebert of Bavaria, and
Mdle. Haussmann, daughter of the Prefect of the Seine. The scene was
brilliant beyond conception. It was a triumph of decorative art having,
as the Queen said, “all the effect of the Arabian Nights.” Picturesque
Arabs from Algeria at one part of the proceedings came forward and did
homage to the Emperor and his guests, staring admiringly at the
Koh-i-noor which the Queen wore in her diadem. The Royal party made the
tour of the rooms, tarrying for a little in the _Salle du Trône_, where
Robespierre was wounded and Louis Philippe proclaimed; and where the
Emperor gallantly said to the Queen, “This occasion will banish from us
all sad remembrances.” On Friday, the 24th, the Queen visited a second
time the Palais d’Industrie, lunched at the École Militaire, and
witnessed a review of the troops. Their smart uniforms, her Majesty
writes, “are infinitely better made and cut than those of our soldiers,
which provokes me much.” After this the Queen drove to the Hôtel des
Invalides, to visit the tomb of the first Emperor. As she stood before
the coffin leaning on the Emperor’s arm, by a strange coincidence, while
the organ of the church was pealing forth the solemn strains of the
English National Anthem, a dreadful thunder storm broke overhead. At
dinner the Emperor and Queen that day entertained each other with
complaints about the incapacity of their generals in the Crimea, and in
the evening another visit, but not in State, was paid to the Opera. On
Saturday, the 24th, the Queen attended a hunt in the forest of St.
Germain, where she was received by the local _curé_ and a bevy of
village maidens, one of whom broke down in the middle of her
complimentary address to the visitors, though when the _curé_ prompted
her, greatly to the Queen’s amusement, she went on glibly to the end. In
the evening there was a grand State Ball at Versailles, the Empress, as
she appeared at the head of the grand staircase, says the Queen,
“looking like a fairy queen or nymph,” and surprising even the Emperor
into exclaiming, “_Comme tu es belle!_” (“How lovely you are!”) After a
splendid display of fireworks there was dancing, and many distinguished
guests were presented to the Queen, amongst others Count Bismarck, then
Prussian Minister to Frankfort. But he did not make himself agreeable to
her Majesty, for when she expressed her admiration for Paris as a
beautiful city, he replied, “Yes, even more beautiful than St.
Petersburg”--a very significant indication of his strong pro-Russian
sympathies. On Sunday, the 26th, Prince Albert’s birthday was quietly
celebrated, and the Queen and Emperor had some serious talk over the
persecution of her friends--the Orleans Princes and Princesses--in the
course of which she very frankly and honestly explained to the Emperor
the precise nature of her relations to them. Monday, the 27th, was
devoted to leave-takings and the journey home. At Boulogne there was an
inspection of troops and the camps of Hensault and Ambleteuse were
visited, and late at night the Queen steamed away in her yacht from
Boulogne Harbour. “_Adieu, Madame, au revoir_,” to which I replied, “_Je
l’espère bien_”--these, according to the Queen, were the parting words
which passed between her and her Imperial host. By half-past eight next
morning her Majesty reached Osborne, finding her younger sons waiting on
the beach to welcome her home.
The Queen was deeply impressed, she says, with the Emperor’s quietness,
gentleness, and simplicity of manner. She felt encouraged to confide in
him without reserve, and was greatly charmed by his kindness and
attention to her children, and his admiration for Prince Albert. The
Prince, however, did not quite share the Queen’s enthusiasm for their
host, though he admitted that the Emperor had great powers of
fascination when he chose to exert them. Lord Clarendon, who was
Minister in attendance on her Majesty, told Mr. Greville that during
this visit “the Queen was delighted with everything, and especially with
the Emperor himself, who, with perfect knowledge of women, had taken the
surest way to ingratiate himself with her. This it seems he began when
he was in England, and followed it up at Paris. After her visit the
Queen talked it all over with Clarendon, and said ‘it is very odd; but
the Emperor knows everything I have done, and where I have been ever
since I was twelve years old; he even recollects how I was dressed, and
a thousand little details it is extraordinary he should be acquainted
with.’ She has never before been on such a social footing with anybody,
and he has approached her with the familiarity of their equal positions,
and with all the experience and knowledge of womankind he has acquired
during his long life, passed in the world and in mixing in every sort of
society. She seemed to have played her part throughout with great
propriety and success. Old Jérôme[240] did not choose to make his
appearance till just at the last moment, because he insisted on being
treated as a king, and having the title of ‘Majesté’ given him--a
pretension Clarendon would not hear of her yielding to.... Clarendon
said nothing could exceed the delight of the Queen at her visit to
Paris, at her reception, at all she saw, and that she was charmed with
the Emperor. They became so intimate, and she on such friendly terms
with him, that she talked to him with the utmost frankness, and even
discussed with him the most delicate of all subjects--the confiscation
of the Orleans property, telling him her opinion upon it. He did not
avoid the subject, and gave her the reasons why he thought himself
obliged to take that course; that he knew all this wealth was employed
in fomenting intrigues against his government, which was so new that it
was necessary to take all precautions to avert such dangers. She replied
that even if this were so, he might have contented himself with
sequestrating the property and restoring it when he was satisfied that
all danger on that score was at an end. I asked Clarendon what he
thought of the Emperor himself, and he said that he liked him and that
he was very pleasing, but he was struck with his being so indolent and
so excessively ignorant. The Prince of Wales was put by the Queen under
Clarendon’s charge, who was desired to tell him what to do in public,
when to bow to the people, and whom to speak to. He said that the
Princess Royal was charming, with excellent manners and full of
intelligence. Both the children were delighted with their _séjour_, and
very sorry to come away. When the visit was drawing to a close, the
Prince said to the Empress that he and his sister were both very
reluctant to leave Paris, and asked if she could not get leave for them
to stay there a little longer. The Empress said she was afraid this
would not be possible, as the Queen and Prince Albert would not be able
to do without them; to which the boy replied, ‘Not do without us! don’t
fancy that, for there are six more of us at home, and they don’t want
_us_.’”[241]
[Illustration: MAP OF CRATHIE AND BRAEMAR.]
Writing to the Dowager Duchess of Coburg from Osborne, on the 30th of
August, Prince Albert says--“We purpose making an escape on the 5th
(September) to our mountain home, Balmoral. We are sorely in want of the
moral rest, and the bodily exercise.” Balmoral was reached on the 7th,
and “the new house,” though not finished, was found to be quite
habitable, and “very comfortable.” The Queen was charmed with its
appearance, and the home-like welcome she received from her dependants,
an old shoe being thrown after her for luck when she entered the Hall.
And truly it brought luck--for in two days afterwards Deeside was ruddy
with the blaze of the bonfire which was lit on Craig Gowan heights to
celebrate the fall of Sebastopol. The bonfire had been prepared the year
before, when the false news of the fall of Sebastopol had arrived, and
the wind had blown it down on Inkermann Day (5th of November). It was
again built up, and on the evening of the 10th, writes Prince Albert to
Stockmar, “it illuminated all the peaks round about, and the whole
scattered population of the valleys understood the sign, and made for
the mountain, where we performed towards midnight a veritable Witches’
Dance, supported by whisky.”[242]
In the same letter the Prince writes, “Prince Fritz William comes here
to-morrow evening. I have received a very friendly letter from the
Princess of Prussia.” This, says Sir Theodore Martin, made Stockmar’s
heart beat fast. He was the recognised matrimonial agent of the House of
Coburg, and one of his cherished projects was to arrange a marriage
between the young and handsome heir of the Prince of Prussia and the
Princess Royal, who, of all the Queen’s children, was in an especial
degree his favourite. The young Prussian Prince was indeed the only
possible suitor in Europe whose prospects rendered him worthy to mate
with a daughter of England. The Queen felt that the day would come when
he would be Heir-Apparent not to the Crown of Prussia, but to the
Imperial Throne of the German Empire. His family was one of the
wealthiest in Europe. His father, afterwards the German Emperor, was a
very dear and valued friend of the Queen and her husband, and the young
Prince Fritz himself had all those qualities of mind and heart which
Prince Albert desired to see in the husband of his eldest child. But the
affair was one of some delicacy, because the Queen abhorred the idea of
what she called “a political marriage;” indeed, as she was on somewhat
unfriendly terms with the King of Prussia, and as Prussia was hated and
despised by the English people at the time, the alliance was, from a
political point of view, far from desirable. Her Majesty, moreover, had
no intention of sanctioning any engagement which might be objectionable
to her daughter, and the ultimate decision, therefore, lay with the
Princess herself, who at the time knew nothing of the hopes or fears
that centred round her. The gossip of Society had connected her name
with that of Prince Frederick William. But on the Queen’s return from
France at the end of August Prince Albert told Lord Clarendon there was
no truth in these rumours.[243] On the 20th of September the Prince laid
his proposal of marriage before the Queen and her husband, and they
accepted it so far as they were concerned, but asked him not to speak to
the Princess on the subject till after her confirmation. The Princess
was only sixteen years of age at the time, and the Queen was of opinion
that there should be no thought of marriage till the following spring,
when her daughter would have passed her seventeenth birthday. On the
23rd Prince Albert writes to Stockmar, telling him that “Victoria is
greatly excited. Still, all goes smoothly and prudently,” and that the
young Prince is “really in love” with the little lady, “who does her
best to please him.” The Crown Prince and Princess of Prussia, he says,
“are in raptures at the turn the affair has taken.” But when a handsome
young Prince is “really in love” with a charming young Princess who
“does her best to please him,” and they are both living in the free,
unrestrained intercourse of English family life in a romantic Highland
retreat, it is hardly practicable to prevent them from coming to an
understanding. The Prussian Prince seems to have appealed successfully
to the Queen’s good nature, and he soon obtained leave to make his
proposal to the Princess before his visit came to an end. “During our
ride up Craig-na-ban,” writes the Queen, in “The Leaves from a Journal,”
“he (Prince Fritz) picked up a piece of white heather (the emblem of
good luck), which he gave to her (the Princess Royal), and this enabled
him to make an allusion to his hopes and wishes as they rode down Glen
Girnoch.” The lady consented, and the happy pair were betrothed. “The
young people,” writes Prince Albert to Stockmar, on the 2nd of October,
“are passionately in love with each other, and the integrity,
guilelessness, and disinterestedness of the Prince are quite touching.”
“Our Fritz,” as the Prince was affectionately called, was no idle youth
of fashion. He was already Colonel of the 1st Foot Guards, and a
thorough soldier.[244] In every branch of the Army he had gone through a
hard apprenticeship, as may be seen from the peremptory instructions
which had been issued when he was ordered to serve with Colonel von
Griesheim’s Dragoons. He had to master every elementary detail of drill
and organisation, and his knowledge was tested by stern judges.[245]
Col. von Griesheim gives the following account of an interview he had
with Prince Fritz’s mother in the autumn of 1854:--“Prince Frederick
William,” he says, “was then twenty-three. He was a young man of notably
amiable manners. I received orders to wait upon his mother the Princess
at the Palace, when she told me that she wished to speak to me as the
new Commander of the Regiment, and I must do her the justice to say that
she did not allow her motherly love for a son, or her anxiety to secure
his personal comforts, to stand in the way of his duty. On the contrary,
she begged me that I would in no way unduly spare the Prince, but insist
on his learning his profession in every branch, so that he might be in a
position to judge what was the real amount of labour which a military
life entailed. She also desired that in non-military matters no special
external respect might be shown him, expressing, at the same time, her
confidence that neither I nor my brother-officers would abuse the
relationship in which we were placed. She was sure I should not forget
that it was the training of our future king that was entrusted to me,
and that I should recognise the obligation of setting things in their
true light, that a true judgment might be formed concerning them. The
Princess was proceeding to talk over a number of incidental matters
when, quite unaccompanied, the Prince of Prussia came into the room. He
looked surprised, and said, ‘Ah! I see the new Commander is receiving
the orders of the dear mamma.’ He laughed good-humouredly, and holding
out his hand with the cordiality peculiar to him, added that I did not
need any instruction from him, and that the length of time he had known
me was a guarantee that the Prince was in good hands. Turning to his
wife he smiled, and said in an undertone, “I trained Griesheim, and now
he shall train our son.’”[246]
Prince Frederick William had thoroughly fulfilled the hopes of his
parents and his tutor, and he was precisely the type of man likely to
win favour in Prince Albert’s eyes. It was, therefore, with supreme
disgust that the Queen and her husband discovered an attempt would be
made to prejudice public opinion against the marriage. The engagement
was not to be announced till after Easter. And yet the _Times_ began to
attack the Queen, Prince Albert, and the Prussian Court, for bringing
about such an alliance. The country was told that the Princess Royal was
being sacrificed to “a paltry German dynasty,” and Prince Fritz was
jeered at as a poor creature, who would have to pick up a livelihood in
the Russian service, and “pass these years which flattering anticipation
now destines to a Crown, in ignominious attendance as a General Officer
on the levee of his Imperial master, having lost even the privilege of
his birth, which is conceded to no German in Russia.” Malignity as well
as ignorance inspired this abuse, for it was at that time the cue of a
certain section of polite society to hold Prince Albert up to odium on
every possible occasion as a tool of the despotic European Courts. As a
matter of fact, the young Prince’s sympathies were with the Opposition
rather than with the Government in Prussia, and he was in the habit of
seeking Prince Albert’s advice as to how he should steer his course in
the stormy sea of Prussian politics. Very sound and wise guidance did
the Prince get from his future father-in-law, who viewed with delight
and hopefulness his assiduous efforts to fit himself for his high
destiny. “In another way,” he writes to the young Prince, “Vicky is also
busy; she has learned much in various directions.... She now comes to me
every evening from six to seven, when I put her through a kind of
general catechising, and, in order to give precision to her ideas, I
make her work out certain subjects by herself, and bring me the results
to be revised. Thus she is now engaged in writing a short compendium of
Roman history.”[247]
[Illustration: THE WOOING OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL.]
On the 30th of November the King of Sardinia, accompanied by Count
Cavour, arrived in London to visit the Queen and Prince Albert. A
rough, frank, good-humoured cavalry officer, passionately devoted to
field sports, and fired with an ardent love of Italy and a bitter hatred
of all foes of Italian Unity--such was our ally, Victor Emmanuel. He had
been preceded by his social reputation in Paris, which was, in truth,
such as to make the Queen somewhat nervous. Lord Malmesbury, writing in
his Diary on the 29th of November, says, “The King of Sardinia, who is
here (Paris), is as vulgar and coarse as possible.”[248]
[Illustration: COUNT CAVOUR.]
However, his Majesty was received with much kindness by the English
people, and on the day after his arrival the Queen and Prince took him
to see Woolwich Arsenal and the Hospitals, only too well filled with
wounded Crimean soldiers. The Artillery Parade on the Common was viewed
by the King with great delight. On Monday, the 3rd of December, Prince
Albert accompanied his Royal guest to Spithead, where they inspected
the fleet and went over the old _Victory_, and a new ship of war, to be
named after his Majesty. On Tuesday, the 4th, Victor Emmanuel visited
the City of London in State, where he met with an effusive welcome, that
greatly impressed him. The reply to the Address presented to him by the
Corporation, which was delivered by the King--though “writ in choice
Italian” for him by his crafty mentor, Cavour--pledging him to support
us to the last in our struggle with Russia if the peace negotiations
then going on failed, vastly increased his popularity. Next day he was
invested by the Queen with the Order of the Garter, and on Thursday he
left at five o’clock in the morning for Boulogne. It was bitterly cold
and bleak, yet, to the surprise of Cavour, the Queen was up betimes to
bid her guest farewell, with all the cordiality of a true English
hostess. Many good stories, most of which will not bear repetition here,
were told of this visit. “I was presented,” writes Lord Malmesbury on
the 5th of December, “to the King of Sardinia by Prince Albert, who told
him that I was an ‘_Ancien Ministre d’Affaires Etrangères_.’ ‘_A quelle
époque?_’ answered the King. I said, ‘In 1852, under Lord Derby’s
Government.’ The King replied, ‘_Que faites-vous à présent?_’ To which
the Prince said, ‘_II fait de l’opposition, car il faut toujours faire
quelque chose dans ce pays_.’ ‘_Ah_,’ replied the King, ‘_donc vous êtes
opposé à mon voyage en Angleterre, et à mon alliance_.’”[249] Lord
Clarendon, says Mr. Greville, “gave me an account of his conversations
both with the King and Cavour. He thinks well of the King, and that he
is intelligent, and he has a very high opinion indeed of Cavour, and was
especially struck with his knowledge of England, and our institutions
and constitutional history. I was much amused after all the praises that
have been lavished on Sardinia for the noble part she has played, and
for taking up arms in so _unselfish_ a manner, that she has, after all,
a keen view to her own interests, and wants some solid pudding as well
as so much empty praise.” In fact, Sardinia wanted some territorial
advantage, which, of course, in view of our relations with Austria at
the time, England could not obtain for her. Hence Victor Emmanuel
complained that after spending 40,000,000 francs on the war, he had
nothing to show his people for it.[250] “The King and his people,”
writes Mr. Greville, “are far better satisfied with their reception here
than in France, where, under much external civility, there was very
little cordiality, the Emperor’s intimate relations with Austria
rendering him little inclined towards the Piedmontese. Here the Queen
was wonderfully cordial and attentive. She got up at five in the morning
to see him depart. His Majesty appears to be frightful in person, but a
great, strong, burly, athletic man, brusque in his manners, unrefined in
his conversation, very loose in his conduct, and eccentric in his
habits. When he was at Paris his talk in society amused or terrified
everybody, but here he seems to have been more guarded. It was amusing
to see all the religious societies hastening with their addresses to
him, totally forgetting that he is the most dissolute fellow in the
world; but the fact of his being excommunicated by the Pope and his
waging war with the ecclesiastical power in his own country covers every
sin against morality, and he is a great hero with the Low Church people
and Exeter Hall. My brother-in-law said he looked at Windsor more like a
chief of the Heruli or Longobardi than a modern Italian prince, and the
Duchess of Sutherland said that of all the Knights of the Garter she had
seen, he was the only one who seemed as if he would have the best of it
with the Dragon.”[251] If Clarendon expressed to Mr. Greville great
admiration for the Sardinian Monarch, he must have been of a singularly
forgiving disposition. For Lord Malmesbury says that when Prince Albert
presented Lord Clarendon to his Majesty as the Secretary of State for
Foreign Affairs, Victor Emmanuel remarked, “_J’ai entendu parler de
vous_,” adding, “_C’est fini_,” which, says Lord Malmesbury, in plain
English meant--“Be off. I’ve nothing more to say to you.”[252]
On the 6th of October, 1854, the Queen had issued a Royal Warrant for
regulating promotion and retirement in the army, which now caused her
much vexation. The warrant enabled lieutenant-colonels, after three
years’ service, to become by right full colonels. This privilege was
confined to line regiments, and the officers of the Guards accordingly
sent a memorial to the Crown begging that it should be extended to them
also. Prince Albert, as Colonel of the Grenadiers, had signed their
petition, and in the middle of December the _Times_ attacked him with
great acrimony for pampering the Guards, and charged him with using his
influence over the Queen for purposes of military jobbery. The old
story, accusing the Prince of interfering with the army and of having
intrigued to become Commander-in-Chief, was vamped up again. It has
already been seen that these accusations were absolutely false, and the
impossibility of contradicting them publicly gave her Majesty great
pain. She knew nothing about the Guards’ memorial, and all the Prince
knew about it was that he had signed it as a matter of formality,
because it was only through him as their colonel, that the officers of
his regiment could, according to the regulations, forward any petition
to the Government. The memorial was dealt with by the Secretary of
State, Lord Panmure, who, as a matter of fact, did _not_ grant its
prayer. That the Prince sometimes interfered with military
administration was quite true. When the War Department broke down he
toiled hard to help the Duke of Newcastle to set it on its legs again.
When the Queen began to fret over the meagreness of Raglan’s despatches,
he showed the Department how to draw up a series of forms that would
compel Raglan to keep the Secretary of State fully aware from day to
day of the state of the Crimean army. When the Prince of Prussia wrote
to him warning him that the conduct of the English officers in the
Crimea, who were supposed to be deserting their posts “on urgent private
affairs,” was bringing disgrace on the name of England, Prince Albert
did what ought to have been done by Lord Panmure, when the story was
promulgated in the press--that is to say, he sifted the facts, and gave
the lie direct to the slanderous fable.[253] To these attacks the Prince
had become indifferent; but they irritated the Queen, who resented their
injustice, and chafed against her powerlessness to give them public
denial.
[Illustration: BALACLAVA: AT PEACE.
(_From a Drawing made Twenty-Five Years after the Crimean War._)]
[Illustration: CATHCART’S HILL, CRIMEA.]