THE WAR CLOUD.
Bright Hopes of Peace Dispelled--An Era of War all over the World--The
Russian War--The Queen's Visits to the Wounded Soldiers--Presentation
of the War Medals--Crimean Heroes--The Volunteer Movement.
Fair and peaceful to all seeming were the prospects of humanity and the
world when the doors of the Hyde Park Exhibition were closed for the last
time, and while its materials were being removed to be erected in more
than their pristine beauty on the summit of one of the finest heights
which environ the sloping basin on which the British metropolis is built.
But a cloud, it might be no bigger than a man's hand, but pregnant with
ill, was on the horizon. The Exhibition closed a long era of peace in
Europe and the world, an era which had been marred, so far as we were
concerned, only by wars in our most distant Oriental dependencies; and, so
far as the Continent was concerned, only by the aggressions of the
potentates who constituted the Holy Alliance, by the revolutionary
movements of 1848, and their sanguinary repression in the year following.
Against the hopes of all, and the belief of most, good men and women, the
Exhibition inaugurated one of the most martial terms of time which have
formed a part of purely modern history. A year had hardly gone by ere
Napoleon effected his _coup d'etat_, that fertile source of future
evils--evils which are by no means yet exhausted. Then came the Russian
War, which cost us in England a hundred thousand lives and at least a
hundred millions of pounds. We had hardly celebrated, and rejoiced over,
and illuminated our dwellings and public buildings in celebration of, the
Peace of Paris, ere in India we had to put forth the utmost might of our
imperial power to vindicate our "Raj" over Moslem and Hindoo, and to
avenge the foul deeds done at Cawnpore. When Prince Albert was, in the
mystery of providential rule, stricken down in his prime, Italy and
Austria were just beginning to recover from the effects of the contests
waged between trained troops at the Voltorno and by the Garibaldian
guerillas in the Valteline. The first message which was conveyed by the
new-laid Atlantic cable was a message of good-will from the grand-daughter
of George III. to him who sat in the seat of the rebel Washington. The
first experimental cable had hardly been destroyed by the potency of old
ocean, churlish and jealous of the invasion of his domain, ere that great
contest broke out across the Atlantic, which brought about the abolition
of slavery throughout the United States. Hardly had our young Prince
brought home his bonny bride ere the subjects who owed her father
allegiance were called upon to hold their own against the mighty force
wielded by a power, of which the queenly diadem must ere long be worn by
England's dear and best-beloved daughter. The Danish War was hardly
concluded ere the aggressor, returning victorious from his northern
confines, turned his face to the south, and inflicted a catastrophe quite
as telling and decisive upon that ancient dynasty, which has been more
frequently allied with England in the great martial embroglios of the
past than any other power of Europe.
[Sidenote: AN ERA OF WAR.]
We have said that Napoleon's _coup d'etat_ of December, 1852, sounded the
tocsin of that period of war which has lasted without sensible
intermission from then until now. With that _coup d'etat_ Victoria found
herself by an accident somewhat closely allied. Some time after the close
of the parliamentary session of 1851, all England was startled by the
sudden announcement of the resignation by Lord Palmerston of the seals of
the Foreign Office, which he held in the first Administration of Lord John
Russell. On the meeting of Parliament in 1852, questions were at once
addressed to the Treasury Benches in both Houses soliciting explanations
of the circumstances. In the Lower House the querist was Sir Benjamin
Hawes. Lord John Russell declared his perfect readiness to answer the
question which had been put to him by Sir Benjamin Hawes, though he said
he could not do so without entering into some details. These "details"
were in the main as follows:--He commenced with a full and frank
acknowledgment of the energy, the ability, and the extensive knowledge of
the interests of England in all parts of the world which preeminently
distinguished Lord Palmerston, and said that he the more regretted, on
that account, that circumstances had occurred which prevented his acting
any longer with him as a colleague. He laid down at starting what he
conceived to be the correct doctrine as to the position which a Secretary
of State holds as regards the Crown in the administration of foreign
affairs. He held that when the Crown, in consequence of a vote of the
House of Commons, places its constitutional confidence in a minister,
that minister is, on the other hand, bound to afford the Crown its full
liberty--a liberty which the Crown must possess--of saying that the
minister no longer possesses its confidence. This was the general
doctrine; but it so happened that with regard to Lord Palmerston
individually, the precise terms were laid down, in 1850, in a
communication on the part of Her Majesty with respect to the transaction
of business between the Crown and the Foreign Secretary. Lord John said he
had been the organ of that communication, and therefore assumed its
responsibility. Its chief passage thus ran:--
The Queen requires, first, that Lord Palmerston will distinctly state
what he proposes in a given case, in order that the Queen may know as
distinctly to what she is giving her Royal sanction. Secondly, having
once given her sanction to a measure, that it be not arbitrarily
altered or modified by the Minister. Such an act she must consider as
failing in sincerity towards the Crown, and justly to be visited by
the exercise of her constitutional right of dismissing that Minister.
She expects to be kept informed of what passes between him and the
Foreign Ministers, before important decisions are taken based upon
that intercourse; to receive the foreign despatches in good time, and
to have the drafts for her approval sent to her in sufficient time to
make herself acquainted with their contents before they must be sent
off. The Queen thinks it best that Lord John Russell should show this
letter to Lord Palmerston.
[Sidenote: DISMISSAL OF LORD PALMERSTON.]
Lord John went on to say that, in his view, Lord Palmerston had violated
this explicit understanding, at least in two instances--one of a
comparatively trifling, but the other of a most important character--since
the conclusion of the session of the year previous (1851). The former had
reference to some incautious remarks which were said to have fallen from
the lips of the Foreign Secretary on the occasion of receiving a
deputation of sympathisers with Hungary. The other related to Napoleon's
_coup d'etat_ of the 2nd of December previous. The instructions given to
our Ambassador at Paris by the Queen's Government were to abstain from all
interference with the internal affairs of France. Lord John had been
informed of an alleged conversation between Lord Palmerston and the French
Minister in London, the tenor of which was repugnant to those
instructions. He had therefore at once written to him, but his
communication had been treated with disdainful silence. Meanwhile Lord
Palmerston, without the knowledge of his colleagues, wrote a despatch to
Lord Normanby, our Minister at Paris, in which, however, he evaded the
question whether he approved the act of the President. He considered
altogether that Lord Palmerston had put himself in the place and assumed
the prerogative of the Crown; that he had "passed by" the Crown, while he
gave the moral approbation of England to the acts of Louis Napoleon, in
direct opposition to the policy which the Government had hitherto pursued.
Under these circumstances, he had no alternative but to declare that,
while he was Prime Minister, Lord Palmerston could not hold the seals of
office; for he had "forgotten and neglected what was due to the Crown and
his colleagues."
[Sidenote: THE WAR IN THE CRIMEA.]
On the 27th of March, 1854, the following message from the Crown was read
to the Peers by the Lord Chancellor. It explains itself. Nor is it
necessary for us to re-write here a single line of one of the brightest
and freshest pages of the recent history of England. We had long been
"drifting into war," to use Lord Clarendon's memorable phrase, and at
last the die was irrevocably, though reluctantly, cast.
VICTORIA R.
Her Majesty thinks it proper to acquaint the House that the
negotiations in which Her Majesty, in concert with her allies, has for
some time past been engaged with His Majesty the Emperor of All the
Russias, have terminated, and that Her Majesty feels bound to afford
active assistance to her ally the Sultan against unprovoked
aggression.
Her Majesty has given directions for laying before the House copies of
such papers, in addition to those already communicated to Parliament,
as will afford the fullest information with regard to the subject of
these negotiations. It is a consolation to reflect that no endeavours
have been wanting on her part to preserve to her subjects the
blessings of peace.
Her Majesty's just expectations have been disappointed, and Her
Majesty relies with confidence on the zeal and devotion of the House
of Lords, and the exertions of her brave and loyal subjects to support
her in her determination to employ the power and resources of the
nation for protecting the dominions of the Sultan against the
encroachments of Russia.
Alma, Balaklava, and Inkerman had been fought and won, and the horrid
winter in the trenches had not yet passed away. These days and nights of
constant fighting had left us many fell remembrances of their grievous
coming and going. The Eastern hospitals, at Scutari and within the lines
of our camp, were choke-full of the wounded. Some few who could bear the
pain of transit were brought home, and no one in England was more
solicitous of their welfare and wise and kindly tending than England's
Queen. Her visits to the hospitals were as welcome as they were frequent.
On the 8th of March, 1855, the Queen, accompanied by Prince Albert, and by
the Duke of Cambridge, the Prince of Wales, and Prince Alfred, visited the
military hospitals at Fort Pitt and Brompton, Chatham. Fort Pitt was then
the only general military hospital in England. As this hospital and that
of Brompton contained together only 361 patients, it could not be
considered that the royal visit was elicited by the peculiar calamities of
the place. But the immense extent of the hospitals in the East, and the
sufferings of the poor wounded soldiers lying within these vast
lazar-houses, had raised in the breast of all England a feeling of pity
and horror. In this feeling the Queen most deeply participated. While her
visit to the only hospital in this country in which the sufferers by the
war were received, was a gratification to her own kindly sympathies, and
most cheering and solacing to the inmates, it could not fail to convey to
the thousands of sufferers in the East, and to the kinsmen and kinswomen
whose hearts bled for them at home, that no heart was fuller of pity than
that of her under whose flag they had fought and fallen.
The whole of the wounded who were in a condition to leave their beds were
drawn up in chairs on the lawn, each having written upon it a card
containing the name and services of the occupant, the nature of his
wounds, and where they were received. The Queen passed along the line,
saying a few kind words to those sufferers who particularly attracted her
notice, or to those whose services were specially commended. She visited
every ward, except that containing fever cases. A few days after, the
Queen reviewed some cavalry and artillery at Woolwich. After the review,
she visited the hospital, and saw the wounded artillery-men who had
returned from the Crimea. Nor were these isolated exhibitions of sentiment
or emotion. Upon every occasion during the continuance of the war, the
Queen showed the most heartfelt sympathy with her brave soldiers; visited
their hospitals and transport ships; received the wounded at her palace,
and suggested and liberally assisted in the establishment of permanent
means of relief for them and their families. A beautiful letter of the
Queen, which was accidentally made public about this time, showed that in
the privacy of domestic life Her Majesty never forgot these sufferers.
Indeed, she complained that she was not kept sufficiently informed of the
needs of those who had returned wounded to their country.
[Sidenote: DISTRIBUTION OF WAR MEDALS.]
It was equally the Queen's duty and pleasure to reward conspicuous merit,
as it was to do all that lay within the limits of her human and regal
power to soothe the pangs of woe. One scene in which she discharged this
high queenly function will never be forgotten by those who were privileged
to witness it. The Queen determined to present with her own hand, to the
officers of the Crimean army, and to a portion of the non-commissioned
officers and privates, who had returned to their country disabled by their
wounds, the medals which they had so dearly won. This act of grace and
kindness deeply touched a sentiment that rested deep in the bosom of the
nation, that had, indeed, there rested ever since--nay, long
before--Elizabeth thrilled the heroic hearts of her people at Tilbury by
saying, "I myself will be your general and judge, and the rewarder of
every one of your victories in the field."
The presentation took place on the 18th of May, 1855. A royal dais was
erected in the centre of the parade of the Horse Guards, and the public
offices which surround it were filled up with galleries for the royal
family and nobility. Within an area enclosed by barriers, were the
intended recipients of the decorations. Without was a dense mass of
spectators. When the Queen had reached the ground, the Guards, who had
hitherto been in line, were formed four deep, and through the intervals
thus opened the Crimean heroes passed, and in a few moments the Queen
stood face to face with them. Each then passed singly, receiving his medal
at the hands of Her Majesty, who presented them with a grace and kindness
which brought tears to many an eye long unused to their effusion. The
first to receive his medal was the Duke of Cambridge, who was
enthusiastically received. Then followed other General officers, then the
staff, and then in order, without distinction of regimental rank, came
cavalry, artillery, engineers, and the line.
The sight was one of the most thrilling ever seen in our metropolis, or in
our times. The gaunt and pallid forms, scarred features, and maimed and
mutilated limbs, brought home to the heart of the least sympathetic the
ravages of war, and the cost and guerdon of bravery. Many of those who
hobbled upon crutches, or walked painfully with the assistance of a stick,
wore upon their arms the emblems of mourning for some brother or near
relative, now reposing by the waters of the Euxine or the Bosphorus. To
each one of the wounded, whether officer or private, the Queen said some
kind word or asked some kindly question of him. Many of the poor fellows
were quite overcome by the tenderness of her compassion. Those officers
whose wounds rendered them unable to walk, were wheeled past in Bath
chairs. Sir Thomas Troubridge, who lost both feet at Inkerman, and who
has since died, was the first of these. The Queen, leaning over his chair,
handed him his medal with the most gracious gesture, and conferred upon
him the post of aide-de-camp to herself. Captains Sayer and Currie, who
were also wheeled past, received similar sympathy.
After the soldiers, came 450 sailors and marines, under Admiral Dundas,
who was the first to be decorated. The ceremony over, the non-commissioned
officers and men of all services dined in the riding-school, where they
were visited by the Queen, her husband, and their children.
[Sidenote: THE VOLUNTEER MOVEMENT.]
Closely and intimately allied with the intense warlike feeling which
prevailed throughout the period which we have been traversing, was the
rise, or rather the revival from our grandfathers' times, of the Volunteer
movement, in the winter of 1858-9. This very notable phenomenon of modern
days was entirely of spontaneous origin and popular outgrowth. At first
the authorities looked but coldly upon it--wisely so, we think--until it
evinced inherent elements of vitality and reality of purpose, and until it
appeared that it was something more than a mere passing impulse. It was
not until the 15th of May, 1859, that a circular from the Secretary for
War gave to the movement official sanction, in the form of an
authoritative permission by the Queen for the formation of volunteer
corps. Ere a twelvemonth had elapsed, 70,000 men had enrolled themselves
in England and Scotland; and before the end of the summer of 1860, that
number had swollen into 170,000. In many other and more emphatic modes the
Queen graciously accorded her own personal sanction and her warm and
approving recognition to the movement. At a special levee, held in March,
1859, all volunteer officers had the opportunity of being presented. At
the first meeting at Wimbledon of the National Rifle Association, in July,
1860, Her Majesty founded an annual prize, in value L250. At the same
meeting she fired the first shot, discharging a rifle, which had been
carefully adjusted to a target 400 yards distant. The cheers of the
assembled thousands welcomed the impact of the bullet within a quarter of
an inch of the bull's eye, and one of many Swiss gentlemen, who were
present as competitors, felicitously remarked that Queen Victoria was now
_la premiere carabiniere de l'Angleterre_.
[Sidenote: THE HYDE PARK REVIEW.]
The 23rd of June in this year was a still greater day for the volunteer
army, and for the country, for it proved how earnestly the riflemen had
devoted themselves to training and to discipline. Her Majesty having
expressed her desire to review the young force on that day, arrangements
were made by the War Office, whereby every corps that had attained a
certain excellence might be represented by its efficient members. The
numbers and strength of the corps that presented themselves for inspection
caused great surprise. Not only London and Westminster, and the densely
populated metropolitan counties, sent ample contingents, but the energies
of the railway companies were taxed to the utmost to bring up bodies of
men from the west of England, the Midlands, Lancashire, Yorkshire, and
East Anglia--even from distant Northumbria. The authorities ultimately
found that they would have to make arrangements for placing 20,000 men in
review order. The review became a national spectacle, a general holiday
was arranged, and an immense assemblage, provincial as well as
metropolitan, was assembled in Hyde Park. The Queen's stand was placed in
the centre of a long line of galleries erected for the accommodation of
about 17,000 privileged spectators, its situation being indicated by the
Royal Standard planted before it. At different hours of the morning, the
provincial corps, some of which must have travelled all night, were landed
at the railway termini--the Durham Artillery, which had travelled
farthest, being the first to reach King's Cross. The river steam-boats
landed their freights at convenient piers: the suburban bodies mustered at
their appointed stations. The whole operation of marching the respective
battalions and brigades, amalgamated as agreed on, was performed with
unerring precision and perfect ease, thanks to the intelligent zeal of the
men and the clear heads of their officers. By two o'clock, 21,000, formed
in one long line, extended completely across the park. The space of time
which intervened between the successive arrivals of the corps and the
commencement of the review, offered one of the most picturesque spectacles
witnessed in our days.
Exactly at four o'clock the Queen arrived on the ground in an open
carriage. Accompanying her were the King of the Belgians, the Princess
Alice, and Prince Arthur. The Prince Consort and the Prince of Wales were
on horseback. The Queen was attended by a magnificent following of general
officers, aides-de-camp, staff officers, foreign military men of
distinction, and the Lords-Lieutenant of the counties which furnished
contingents to the force on the ground. There were also in attendance on
the Sovereign the Duke of Cambridge and Mr. Sidney Herbert, the official
heads of the army. Remarkable amongst the group was Field-Marshal Lord
Combermere, who had counted no fewer than seventy years of military duty.
As the cortege swept on to the ground the volunteers stood to arms, their
bands playing the National Anthem. The scene now presented was in truth a
magnificent one. On one side, from north to south, stood the thick lines
of the volunteers, their somewhat sombre ranks varied by masses of dark
uniforms, with here and there a mass of scarlet, the whole thrown into
relief by the background of the trees of Kensington Gardens. From west to
east, dense lines of people extended, many being raised head over head by
the most precarious and illusory elevations. From north to south, at the
eastern end of the park, and facing the line of volunteers, a glittering
line of military uniforms of officers and the gay dresses of ladies who
accompanied them gave a varied and rich fringe to the human masses of the
_elite_ of the land who occupied the galleries above them. The green space
so enclosed was dotted and animated by the bright scarlet, glittering
cuirasses, snowy plumes, and jet-black steeds of the Life Guardsmen, who
kept the ground.
The Queen, followed by the whole of her brilliant Court, drove to the
extreme left of the volunteer line, and thence slowly passed along the
whole front to where the extreme right came close up to the lofty houses
at Albert Gate. Then turning, she drew up on the open ground, the Royal
Standard proudly waving above her. The bands of the Household Brigade
being placed opposite her, the volunteers now began to defile past,
between Her Majesty and the bands. The march was commenced by the mounted
corps, few in number, but admirably equipped and with remarkably fine
horses. The infantry were headed by the Artillery Company, to whom, as
the oldest volunteer body existing, not only in England but in Europe, the
priority has always been accorded. For an hour and a half corps after
corps marched past, until the long succession was closed by a regiment
from Cheshire. When the whole had passed, and all had returned to their
original positions, the whole line advanced in columns of battalions, and,
by signal, cheered Her Majesty with vociferous earnestness. After
expressing her high satisfaction with what she had seen, the Queen left
the ground about six o'clock. Before eight o'clock all the volunteers had
been marched out of the park, and there remained within its gates only
meagre remnants of the enormous crowd of spectators.
[Sidenote: THE REVIEW AT EDINBURGH.]
The opinions of competent authorities on the creditable manner in which
this experimental review passed off were of the highest character. The
Commander-in-Chief issued a general order, by command of the Queen, in
which His Royal Highness spoke in the highest terms of the efficiency
displayed by the various corps, and of Her Majesty's appreciation of the
loyalty and devotion exhibited by the volunteer movement. Later in the
season the Queen, when on her customary autumnal route to Balmoral,
reviewed in the Queen's Park, at Edinburgh, the volunteers of her northern
kingdom, to the number of 12,000.