THE QUEEN IN IRELAND.
First Visit to Ireland--Rapturous Reception at Cork--Queenstown so
Denominated--Enthusiasm at Dublin--Its Graceful Recognition by the
Queen--Visit to the Dublin Exhibition--Encouragement of Native
Industry--Visit to the Lakes of Killarney--The Whirligig of Time.
For twelve years after her accession to the throne, the Queen was a
personal stranger to the shores of Erin. Amongst the numerous fruits of
the tranquillity restored to Ireland, after the disturbances and sedition
which had culminated in the "Young Ireland" rising of 1848, was a visit
paid by the Queen to her subjects on the west of St. George's Channel in
the autumn of 1849. Immediately after the prorogation of Parliament, the
Queen and Prince Albert proceeded to Cowes, where a Royal squadron was
ready to receive them. Under its escort, and being accompanied by their
two eldest children, they steered for Cork. The Queen selected as the
first spot of Irish ground on which to land, the port which, up to the
date of her disembarkation, had been known as the Cove of Cork. She gave a
command that, in commemoration of the circumstance, the Cove should
thenceforth be designated Queenstown. Having re-embarked, the Royal party
steamed up the beautiful bay to the city of Cork itself, where a
magnificent reception awaited them. The squadron proceeded at a slow
rate. In spite of its arrival at a much earlier date than had been
anticipated, the news spread like wildfire, and the country people
assembled in prodigious numbers on the shores of the Cove, which were
crowded with multitudes of excited Celts, whose wild shouts, mingled with
the firing of cannon and small arms, and the ringing of bells, made the
whole scene animated beyond description. From Cork, the Queen proceeded to
Dublin. There her reception was described by an eye-witness as "a sight
never to be forgotten."
[Sidenote: FIRST VISIT TO IRELAND.]
The Queen, turning from side to side, bowed low repeatedly. Prince Albert
shared in and acknowledged the plaudits of the people; while the Royal
children were objects of universal attention and admiration. Her Majesty
seemed to feel deeply the warmth of her reception. She paused at the end
of the platform for a moment, and again making her acknowledgments, was
hailed with a tremendous cheer as she entered the terminus of the short
railway line which connects Kingston with Dublin. On her departure, a few
days later, an incident still more gratifying to the Irish people
occurred. As the Royal yacht approached the extremity of the pier near the
lighthouse, where the people were most thickly congregated, and who were
cheering enthusiastically, the Queen suddenly left the two
Ladies-in-waiting with whom she was conversing, ran with agility along the
deck, and climbed the paddle-box to join Prince Albert, who did not notice
her till she was nearly at his side. Reaching out to him, and taking his
arm, she waved her hand to the people on the piers. She appeared to give
some order to the captain: the paddles immediately ceased to move, and
the vessel merely floated on. The Royal Standard was lowered in courtesy
to the thousands cheering on shore, and this stately obeisance was
repeated five times.
This gracious and well-timed visit to Ireland was a very significant proof
of the Royal confidence in the unshaken allegiance of the bulk of the
Irish people; and it likewise showed a just appreciation of the prudent
energy and humane moderation with which her Ministers had so fortunately
composed the recent unhappy tumults. Nearly thirty years had elapsed since
a British sovereign had appeared in Ireland; and between the visit of
George IV. and that of Queen Victoria, there was in common only the
circumstance that both were royal visits. George, as King of Ireland, in
1821, was not the king of a free nation; the victory of civil and
religious liberty had yet to be achieved for and by the Irish; a minority
engrossed the national Government and monopolised its emoluments of every
degree; the very existence of the people as a people had not been
recognised, and the King himself was peculiarly and bitterly identified
with the faction which held the race and their creed in thraldom. Thus, in
1821, the Crown of England possessed for Ireland little lustre or utility,
nor did it evoke any well-grounded loyalty and devotion from its people.
Queen Victoria and her visit, on the contrary, represented those popular
principles and sympathies which are the brightest jewels of the British
Crown, and are now set firmly in it for ever. Her visit, at once august
and affectionate, was a visit to a nation which was not only loyal but
free. "And joy came well in such, a needful time." The joy was exuberant
and universal. As the loyalty was rendered to a young Queen, it partook of
the romantic and strictly national nature of gallantry. To witness that
joy must have been the fittest punishment for the disaffected.
"We do not remember," says an authority not given to rhapsody or
exaggeration, "in the chronicles of royal progresses, to have met with any
description of a scene more splendid, more imposing, more joyous, or more
memorable, than the entry of the Queen into the Irish capital." The houses
were absolutely roofed and walled with spectators. They were piled throng
above throng, till their occupants clustered like bees about the vanes and
chimney tops. The noble streets of Dublin seemed to have been removed, and
built anew of Her Majesty's lieges. The squares resembled the interiors of
crowded amphitheatres. Facades of public buildings were formed for the day
of radiant human faces. Invention exhausted itself in preparing the
language of greeting, and the symbols of welcome. For miles the chariot of
the gay and gratified Sovereign passed under parti-coloured (not
_party_-coloured) streamers, waving banners, festal garlands, and
triumphal arches. The latter seemed constructed of nothing else than solid
flowers, as if the hands of Flora herself had reared them. At every
appropriate point jocund music sent forth strains of congratulation; but
banners, flowers, arches, and music were all excelled by the jubilant
shouts which tore the empyrean, loud, clear, and resonant, not only above
drum and trumpet, but above even the saluting thunders of the fleet.
[Sidenote: VISIT TO AN IRISH NATIONAL SCHOOL.]
Perhaps, apart from the mere loyal enthusiasm of the occasion, the most
important and significant incident of the visit was the following. It did
not fail to be remarked that the first institution which Her Majesty
visited in the capital was the central establishment of the Irish National
Schools--the first-fruits of Irish liberty, and the noblest possession of
the Irish people. The Queen knew that in these excellent schools the youth
of all persuasions were trained together, not in the love and pursuit of
knowledge alone, but in the habit of tolerance and the spirit of charity.
The Queen, by this visit, passed her personal approval and sanction upon a
system which is equally the antithesis of sectarian discord and the
promoter of religious independence. Here, also, she discovered (or already
knew, as was much more likely) that there was imparted the most useful,
solid, and practical instruction, one of a character most precisely
adapted to the wants, pursuits, interests, and occupations of the classes
in whose behalf it was devised. In her survey and inspection of the Normal
Schools, the Queen was attended by the Protestant and the Romanist
Archbishops, and the representatives of other Christian denominations,
friendly to the great scheme, stood beside and around her. That quite as
much importance and significance as we have accorded to it was assigned to
this visit of the Queen to the Normal National Schools, sufficiently
appears from these closing sentences of the Report of the Irish Education
Commissioners for 1849:--
We cannot conclude our Report for 1849 without alluding with pride and
gratitude to the visit with which our Model Schools were honoured on
the 7th of August, by Her Majesty Queen Victoria, and by her Royal
Consort, Prince Albert, accompanied by your Excellency. We are
convinced that this visit, so promptly and cordially made, has left an
indelible impression upon the hearts of the poor of Ireland, for whose
benefit our system has been established; and that they will ever
regard the compliment as the most appropriate and decisive that could
have been paid by Her Majesty to themselves. All reflecting men,
whether friends or opponents of our institution, have not failed to
see the importance of the step. By the country at large it has been
hailed as an eminent proof of Her Majesty's wisdom and goodness, and
as peculiarly worthy of the daughter of that illustrious Prince who
was the ardent advocate of the education of the poor, when denounced
by many as a dangerous novelty; and of their united education on just
and comprehensive principles, when most men regarded it as
impracticable.
[Sidenote: VISIT TO THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY.]
Four years later, when the first International Exhibition was held at
Dublin, the Queen renewed her acquaintance with her Irish subjects. Making
a somewhat lengthened stay at the vice-regal residence, she charmed the
people by the freedom with which she mingled amongst them, and by the
special attention and the bounteous patronage which she bestowed upon the
little-developed but beautiful specimens of their indigenous textile
industries in the Exhibition building. A third and a much more prolonged
visit was made in the autumn of 1861, the Queen having honoured Lord
Castlerosse and Mr. Herbert of Muckross, two gentlemen whose seats and
demesnes are situate on the shores of the beauteous Lakes of Killarney, by
accepting their hospitable invitations. Over the lakes, their islets, and
their surrounding mountains and mountain passes, the Queen roved as freely
and unrestrainedly as was her wont in the retreats in which she had year
after year sojourned, after the turmoil of the London season, in the
Scottish Highlands. It was observed with pleasure that, amongst other
indications of change which the whirligig of time had brought round, Mr.
James O'Connell, the brother of the "Liberator," dined more than once with
Her Majesty at the tables of her noble and gentle hosts; and the hounds
that forced a stag to take to the Lake--one of the immemorial sports
associated with Killarney--formed a portion of the pack which belonged to
his two sons.