CHAPTER VII.

LORD PALMERSTON’S LAST CONTEST WITH THE QUEEN.

The Sleswig-Holstein Question--The Danish Succession--Palmerston’s

Partisanship--The “Danification” of the Duchies--The Letters-Patent

of Christian VIII.--The Revolution of ’48--The Sleswig-Holstein

Treaty of Berlin--Salic Law in the Duchies--Palmerston’s Intrigue

with the Russian Ambassador--The Protocol of 1850--The Queen’s

Objections to it--Prince Albert’s Advice to the Prince of Noër--The

Treaty of London--Lord Malmesbury’s Fatal Blunder--His Mistake as

to the Mandate of the Diet--Letters-Patent of Frederick VII.--His

Death--Accession of Christian IX.--Revolt of the

Duchies--Proclamation of the Duke of Augustenburg as Sovereign--Mr.

Gladstone’s Popular Budget--Death of Sir George Cornewall

Lewis--The Queen’s Letter to Lady Theresa Lewis--The Dispute with

Brazil--The Prison Ministers Bill--A South Kensington

Job--Hoodwinking the Commons--A “Scene” in the House of Commons--A

Ministerial Defeat--Sir George Grey and the City Police--The Civil

War in America--Escape of the _Alabama_--Illegal Seizure of the

_Alexandra_--Blockade Running--Proclamation Abolishing

Slavery--Progress of the War--Net Results of the Campaigns.

Lord Palmerston is said to have declared that only one man in Europe

knew all the history and details of the Sleswig-Holstein Question, and

that his opinion about it seemed to be contrary to common sense. Since

1846 the problem had engaged the subtlest of European diplomatists and

Jurisconsults in chronic controversy. The Kings of Denmark were also

Sovereign Dukes of Sleswig-Holstein, and when they were absolute

monarchs, the Germans in the Duchies were on the same footing as the

Danes. They were equally in bondage. On the death of Frederick VI., in

1839, his great-nephew, Christian VIII., succeeded him as King of

Denmark, and all the subsequent trouble rose from the fact that his only

son, the Prince Frederick, was not likely to have an heir. The question

of the succession was further complicated because the Salic Law which

existed in the German Empire obtained in the Duchies of Sleswig and in

Holstein--the latter, indeed, being actually one of the States of the

Germanic Confederation. The Landgravine Louise of Hesse would, on the

death of Prince Frederick, be the nearest heir to the Danish throne. But

as the Salic Law excluded a woman from the Sovereignty of the Duchies,

her succession must destroy the integrity of Denmark. It was of the

utmost importance to Russia to preserve this integrity, because, in the

first place, the Romanoffs had themselves claims to part of the Duchies,

which, on the extinction of the Royal House of Denmark, might be

extended over the whole country; and, in the second place, if the

Duchies broke away from Denmark they would naturally be absorbed by

Germany, which would thus gain not only a valuable seaboard, but the

formidable naval station of Kiel, from which she might dispute Russian

supremacy in the Baltic. Two leading ideas, therefore, are from this

point seen to dominate diplomacy in treating the question of the

Duchies. The first is the Teutonic idea, which was, by every legitimate

means, to prevent the Duchies from being absorbed by Denmark, and to

draw closer and closer their connection with Germany. The

[Illustration: FREDERICK CHARLES, DUKE OF AUGUSTENBURG.]

second is the Slavonic idea, which was to maintain, at all costs, the

integrity of Denmark, and as far as possible encourage the policy that

promoted a closer union between her and the Duchies. In this conflict of

diplomatic forces the policy of England was vacillating and

inconsistent, and for an excellent reason. Palmerston committed the

fatal blunder of identifying British interests with the veiled designs

of Russia, and he became a violent partisan of Denmark, whose policy was

solely directed to what was called the “Danification” of the Duchies. On

the other hand, the Queen had what Palmerston lacked--patience to master

the complicated facts of the Danish question, and she became convinced

that law and justice were on the side of the German Party in

Sleswig-Holstein. The Prince Consort, again, was perhaps the only

eminent man of his time who detected the hand of Russia in the game of

intrigue at Copenhagen, from which sprang the policy of absorbing the

Duchies against their will. He had the sense to see that British

interests could hardly depend on maintaining the integrity of a small

State like Denmark against the will of its people, and against the

public law of Europe, and with no other practical result than that of

preventing Germany from establishing herself as a rival power to Russia

in the Baltic. Prince Albert’s death merely strengthened the Queen in

her loyalty to his ideas--which in this instance were in harmony with

her own conclusions. Hence, in 1863 and 1864, when the Danish Question

became acute, the Queen and Lord Palmerston were in irreconcilable

conflict, which explains why English policy seemed to the world at the

time, a tissue of unintelligible inconsistencies. Happily for the

English people, this conflict ended in the humiliating defeat of

Palmerston--who, however, fought for his hand to the bitter end, with a

courage and an obstinacy worthy of a better cause. No Tudor Sovereign

ever strove more unweariedly and with more complete success than did the

Queen at this time, to thwart the policy of her Minister, in the

interests of peace, progress, and civilisation.

The first sign of trouble in the Duchies was given in 1846, when

Christian VIII., as the Queen and Prince Consort knew, acting at the

instigation of Russia, issued letters-patent extending the Danish law of

female succession to all his dominions. These letters were a flagrant

outrage on the public law of Europe, which excluded female sovereignty

from his German provinces. Still Germany could only interfere on behalf

of Holstein, which, as one of the States of the Germanic Confederation,

was--as we have seen--under Salic Law. On the other hand, the German

Party in the Duchies agitated against the letters-patent as an

infringement of their autonomy; they demanded the union of the two

Duchies, and their full and final absorption by the German Bund or Diet.

The Diet, however, merely promised to defend their rights in Holstein,

and vindicate the claims of all legal agnates in the succession to the

Sovereignty of the Duchies. The death of Christian VIII. on the 20th of

January, 1848, gave the German Party an opportunity for revolt. A

Provisional Government was formed for the Duchies, and Prussia helped

the Germans in Sleswig-Holstein to expel their Danish masters. The

dispute dragged on till the 2nd of July, 1850, when a Treaty between

Denmark and Prussia was signed at Berlin, vesting the Danish succession

in Prince Christian of Sleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg, and on

his issue in the male line by his marriage with Louise, Princess of

Hesse, heiress of the Crown of Denmark, who ceded to him all her rights.

But the rights of the German Federation as regards Holstein and

Lauenburg were not prejudiced by this Treaty. As for the heir to the

Sovereignty of the Duchies under Salic Law--the Duke of Augustenburg--he

sold his claims for 3,500,000 dollars. But obviously such a Treaty had

no validity till it was sanctioned by the German Diet, inasmuch as it

changed the legal succession in Holstein. An acknowledgment of the

principle of maintaining at all hazards the integrity of Denmark, to be

of use, must therefore have European sanction. To pave the way for a

Treaty embodying this sanction Russian diplomacy at once set to work,

and, unfortunately, Palmerston’s indiscretion at this juncture put him

at the mercy of Baron Brunnow, the Russian Minister in London. It will

be remembered that Palmerston’s policy of coercing Greece to recover Don

Pacifico’s bad debts, had caused France to withdraw her Minister from

London. But Russia took up the quarrel quite as fiercely as France, and

Baron Brunnow not only absented himself from the official dinner at the

Foreign Office on the Queen’s birthday, but finding that, through Lady

Palmerston’s agency, means were taken to persuade the Queen that he

meant to insult her personally, Brunnow called on Prince Albert

privately and told him why he could not be present. It need hardly be

said that this explanation did not soften her Majesty’s feeling towards

Palmerston. Then came the censure which the House of Lords passed on him

on the 17th of June. It was morally certain that if Russia followed

France in withdrawing her Minister, the House of Commons would have

confirmed the censure of the Lords, whereupon--condemned alike by the

Crown and by both Houses of Parliament, by the Tories, the Radicals, and

the Peace Party--Palmerston’s career must have ended. And every moment

Brunnow’s demand for his passports was expected. At this crisis

Palmerston, says Count Vitzthum, “turned to the Russian Minister with

the inquiry whether there were no means of reconciling the Cabinet of

St. Petersburg. After some consideration, Brunnow proposed a bargain:

‘Give us Denmark,’ he said, ‘and then we will give you Greece and forget

the past.’ Of course it was not a question of ceding the Danish Kingdom,

but of converting it into a Russian dependency, and giving the Emperor

Nicholas a prospect of obtaining the harbour of Kiel.”[163] But how was

this to be done? The first step was to get the integrity of Denmark

affirmed as a European interest. Playing on Palmerston’s ignorance,

Brunnow invented Russian claims to the Duchies based on those rights to

the Gottorp portion, which the Emperor Paul had surrendered. These

claims, Brunnow said, would be revived by the Czar Nicholas when the

Danish line of kings became extinct with the death of Frederick VII. At

such a suggestion Palmerston entered quite eagerly into the project of

settling the succession to the Danish Crown on the basis (1), of

recognising the integrity of Denmark as a European interest; (2), of

passing over all male heirs to the sovereignty of the whole Danish

Kingdom, in favour of Prince Christian of Glücksburg, the husband of the

female heir. The points in the game which Russian diplomacy scored were

three. The bargain kept Kiel out of German hands, which were alone

strong enough to hold it against Russia. By getting the integrity of

Denmark recognised, Russia rendered it easy for her to demand the whole

kingdom whenever the time came to revive the Czar’s so-called claims to

the Duchies as heir to the House of Gottorp. By getting the sovereignty

of Denmark vested in Christian of Glücksburg, Russia contrived to seat

on the Danish throne a Prince whose line of succession was not unlikely

to fail.

[Illustration: THE EXCHANGE, COPENHAGEN.]

When the bargain was struck France and Sweden recognised it. The Czar,

as usual, “answered” for Prussia and Austria, and it was embodied in the

Protocol of the 4th of July, 1850. The Queen, however, objected most

strenuously to the whole arrangement. She warned her Ministers that it

arbitrarily set aside the legal rights of nineteen agnates nearer in

succession to the childless Frederick VII. than Christian of

Sleswig-Holstein-Glücksburg. The Prince Consort declared in one of his

letters to Stockmar that it violated law, equity, and honour, and

predicted that trouble would spring from it. “But,” writes Count

Vitzthum, “though he alone saw through the Russian game, he shrank from

bringing the direct pressure of his influence to bear on the English

Ministry in a matter which might expose him to the charge of

sympathising too strongly with his Fatherland.” Yet he seems to have

taken very strong means privately to neutralise the policy of Palmerston

and Brunnow. He advised the Prince of Noër, one of the nineteen agnates

who were set aside, to protest formally against the settlement of the

Danish succession, so that the idea of challenging it was at all events

kept alive in

[Illustration: THE HARBOUR, COPENHAGEN.]

Germany. The Prince of Noër warned the Powers that he would only

acquiesce in the new order of succession on condition of its being

stipulated by an International Treaty, similar in principle to that of

Utrecht, that the Czar of Russia should in no case be permitted to wear

the Danish Crown. After the intrigue between Palmerston and the Russian

Minister, it was of course impossible to put this condition, which would

alone have protected British interests, into the Protocol, which was

subsequently expanded into the Treaty of 1852 and signed by Lord

Malmesbury. This Treaty was known as the Treaty of London (8th of May,

1852), and so completely did Palmerston in 1863-64 feel that his policy

and prestige were bound up with it, that he dragged the country to the

verge of war to uphold its provisions. When the Treaty of London was

signed, an inexplicable blunder was made by the Tory Government. The

document was legally worthless unless ratified by the German Diet. But

Lord Malmesbury permitted himself to believe that Austria and Prussia

signed it as mandatories of the Diet, whereas, as a matter of fact, they

took care merely to sign it in their individual capacities, as

independent States. Other German States afterwards gave their sanction

to it, but most of them with the reservation that the ratification of

the Diet--that is, of Germany in her corporate capacity--should be

obtained. Thus Palmerston’s settlement of the Danish succession was a

Treaty which settled nothing, because he and Lord Malmesbury had been

reckless enough to take it for granted that Austria and Prussia, in

signing it, acted on a mandate from Germany, which they had neither

sought nor obtained.

The arrangement of 1852 not only changed the Danish succession, but

before it was made Denmark pledged herself to fulfil all her obligations

to the Diet in regard to Holstein, to respect the old autonomy and

privileges of both Duchies, to maintain their union, and never to

incorporate them into Denmark proper. Frederick VII., under the

influence of the Democratic party and a meddlesome mistress, repeatedly

violated these engagements. He was perpetually attempting to undermine

the independence of the Duchies, and the Diet was perpetually protesting

against his policy.[164] At last, in March, 1863, he issued decrees

dissolving the union of Sleswig and Holstein, and practically

incorporating them in Denmark. Frederick VII. died on the 15th of

November, 1863, and the father of the Princess of Wales succeeded him as

Christian IX. His first act, done under Democratic menaces at

Copenhagen, was to decree that legislative power in respect to the

common affairs of Sleswig and Denmark, was to be vested in the King and

the Danish Rigsraad, and that no law passed by the Rigsraad was to be

dependent upon the passing of a similar law by the legislatures of

either Sleswig or Holstein. This completed the subjection of the Germans

in the Duchies to the Danes, and the very day after Christian IX.

ascended the throne they accordingly retaliated by disputing his right

to rule over them. The young Duke of Augustenburg thereupon claimed the

sovereignty of the Duchies. True, his father had surrendered his rights.

But, it was argued, a hereditary sovereign cannot surrender hereditary

rights without the consent of his heir-apparent--just as the owner of an

entailed estate cannot sell it, without the consent of his heirs in

tail. On the 21st of November the Holstein Legislature refused to swear

allegiance to Christian IX., after which Saxony, Bavaria, Hesse, and

other German States resolved to support the claim of the Duke of

Augustenburg to Holstein, and the Prussian Chambers passed a resolution

in favour of vindicating the rights of the Duchies and of the

Augustenburg family. On the 27th of December the Duke of Augustenburg

was proclaimed Sovereign of Sleswig-Holstein, and on the 30th he made

his entry into Kiel. On the 31st the Danish Cabinet resigned, and a new

Ministry was formed by Bishop Monrad. The question of the Succession, so

far as the German Diet was concerned, was simple enough. For the Diet

the Treaty of London had no existence. Therefore the Landgravine Louise

of Hesse was Queen of Denmark. As the Salic Law excluded her from the

sovereignty of the Duchies, it was for the Diet purely an open question

who had the best right to them.[165]

The domestic policy of the Government was not of much interest in 1863.

Very early in the Session Mr. Gladstone introduced his Budget. The

American War had sent the price of cotton up from 7d. to 2s. 1d. a

pound, and trade was prostrate and stagnant in Lancashire. The

agricultural wealth of Ireland from 1856 to 1860 had been, on the

average, about £39,437,000[166] a year. But in 1863 it had fallen to

£27,327,000--a decrease of £12,000,000, a sum not far short of the

established annual valuation of the country, which was but £13,000,000.

Ireland and Lancashire ought therefore to have made havoc with Mr.

Gladstone’s estimates for the past year. So far from that being the

case, the revenue, under the expansive influence of Free Trade, had

risen to £67,790,000, or £805,000 over the estimates.[167] The

expenditure had been £69,302,000, or £806,000 less than the estimates.

For the coming year Mr. Gladstone accordingly estimated a revenue of

£71,490,000 on the existing basis. Hence he had in view a surplus of

£3,741,000, so that he saw his way to lessen the pressure of taxation on

the people. He therefore reduced the Income Tax from 9d. to 7d. in the

pound, readjusting its incidence so as to give more relief to small

incomes. He reduced the tea duty to 1s. in the pound, and equalised the

duties on chicory and coffee, but his attempts to levy Income Tax on

public charities and trust corporations were defeated[168] after a

somewhat acrid controversy. Mr. Gladstone’s argument was that their

corrupt management really deprived most of the rich incorporated

charities of a right to an appeal _ad misericordium_. He, however,

pressed his point too far. His lurid picture of their administrative

abuses tempted people to doubt whether the penal imposition of a

sevenpenny Income Tax was the best means of dealing with such gigantic

evils.

The lamented death of Sir George Cornewall Lewis in April not only

brought confusion into the Cabinet, but it deprived the Queen of a

valued

[Illustration: GENERAL GRANT.]

friend, whose services she could ill afford to lose. “To me, dear Lady

Theresa,” the Queen says in a letter to Sir George’s widow (15th April),

“this is a heavy loss, a severe blow! My own darling had the very

highest esteem, regard, and respect for dear Sir Cornewall Lewis; we

delighted in his society; we admired his great honesty and fearless

straightforwardness. We had the greatest confidence in him, and since my

terrible misfortune, I clung particularly to characters like his, which

are so rare. I felt he was a friend, and I looked to him as a support,

and a wise and safe counsellor. He is snatched away, and his loss to me

and to the country is irreparable. How little did I think, when I talked

to him the last time here, and he spoke so kindly of my popularity, as

he so kindly expressed it, that I should never see his kind face

again.”[169] He was leader of “the Court Party” in the Cabinet, and was

succeeded at the War Office by Earl de Grey.

[Illustration: CHRISTIANSBORG CASTLE, COPENHAGEN.]

Only one question provoked anything resembling a party division during

the Session, and that was the Prison Ministers Bill. The object of the

measure was to allow prisoners to be attended by clergy of their own

denominations and persuasions. As the Roman Catholics would derive most

benefit from the Bill, it was opposed warmly by a powerful body of the

Tory Party. The Liberals naturally supported the measure, and on this

occasion they were joined by a few of the more enlightened

Conservatives, such as Lord Derby, Mr. Disraeli, Mr. Henley, and Sir

John Pakington. As Mr. Disraeli was at the time favouring an intrigue

for detaching the Roman Catholic Party from the Liberals, it was with

ill-concealed chagrin that he listened to the bigoted attacks of his

followers on the Bill, which was, however, passed. The suspension of

amicable relations with Brazil,[170] the vote for the purchase of the

Exhibition Buildings, the reorganisation of the London police, and the

attitude of the Government to the belligerents in the American Civil

War, were the only other topics that created serious or practical

Parliamentary discussion.

The vote for the purchase of the Exhibition Building of 1862 was

extremely unpopular, and but for the Queen’s influence it would probably

have been rejected by the House of Commons. The country even then viewed

with strong suspicion the tendency to centralise all National

collections in the distant Court suburb of Kensington. It was also

insinuated that the Royal Family had pecuniary interests in building

land, the value of which would be enhanced by creating a Science and Art

Department in this quarter. That insinuation is contradicted by Sir

Theodore Martin, who asserts that Prince Albert never was able to save

any money out of his private income to purchase such lands for his

heirs.[171] This perhaps accounts for what has long been a popular

mystery--the fact that his will was never submitted to Probate. As a

matter of course, if he had no money to leave to his heirs, the Prince

must have left no will that was worth proving. But in 1863 these

insinuations had sunk deep in the public mind, and the manner in which

Lord Palmerston managed the question gave colour to them. He knew that

the proposal to buy the Exhibition Building of 1862 was hateful to the

taxpayers. The edifice was architecturally unfit for the reception of a

permanent national collection of paintings, and its distance from London

rendered all schemes for transferring to it the pictures from the

National Gallery in Trafalgar Square objectionable in the extreme.

Palmerston, however, at the outset disarmed his critics by proposing

merely to buy from the Exhibition Commissioners, for £67,000, the site

of the Exhibition, and it was tolerably cheap for a metropolitan site,

in days when land in the City fetched £119,000 an acre. This site, he

said, was wanted for a building to house the new Patent Office, some

natural history collections from the British Museum, and for a National

Portrait Gallery. Then he asked the House of Commons to vote £120,000

for the purchase of another “lot” of seventeen acres belonging to the

Commissioners adjacent to the Exhibition site, and, finally, he desired

it to vote £80,000 for the building itself. Very artfully he had the

votes put separately, and Mr. Gladstone aided him by positively assuring

the House that the project of buying the building--which was universally

unpopular--was one quite apart from the other projects. By a vote of 267

to 135 the House agreed, but grudgingly, to the purchase of the ground,

intending to fight the taxpayers’ battle on the question of buying the

building. When, however, they came to the vote for the building, Mr.

Gladstone informed them they had no option but to purchase it, for the

contractors were under no obligation to remove it--a fact which Lord

Palmerston had carefully concealed from the House. Members were thus in

possession of a site burdened with a useless building which it was

nobody’s business to remove. If the Government pulled it down, and then

put up another structure in its place, the operation would cost much

more than the £105,000 which were needed to buy and adapt it to public

uses. The House was furious at finding itself trapped by Lord Palmerston

and Mr. Gladstone. Bitter complaints of Courtly jobbery were heard on

all sides, and a Ministerial defeat was the result. Lord Malmesbury,

writing on the 5th of July in his “Diary,” says:--“Several people

called, who told me that the scene in the House of Commons when the

division took place on the vote for the purchase of the Exhibition

Building was extraordinary. Sir Stafford Northcote’s speech[172] was the

signal for a storm, and he was forced to sit down. Disraeli had

canvassed his supporters, telling them that he had a letter in his

pocket from the Queen. This had a disastrous effect, and when he got up

the hooting was so terrific that he could not be heard. Gladstone’s

speech had already excited great indignation, for it showed how

completely the Government had deceived the House when Lord Palmerston

had induced them to vote for the purchase of the land, leaving them

under the delusion that the contractors for the Exhibition were bound to

remove the building if it was not sold within a certain time. Gladstone

had told them that there was no engagement of the sort, and that he

believed they were not obliged to remove it at all. This, whether true

or not, was taken as a menace to force them to buy the building, and

infuriated the House of Commons the more, as Lord Elcho proved that the

purchase would be a most disadvantageous one, entailing an enormous

expense. So the House rose _en masse_, and, after a scene of the utmost

confusion and excitement, defeated the Government by more than two to

one, Gladstone and Disraeli looking equally angry.”[173] It need hardly

be said that Mr. Disraeli’s indiscreet use of the Queen’s name in this

questionable transaction was unwarranted and unwarrantable.

The inefficiency displayed by the City Police at the entry of the

Princess Alexandra into London tempted Sir George Grey to propose that

the Metropolitan and City Forces should be amalgamated under the control

of the Home Office. This was hotly opposed. The Lord Mayor and Mr.

Alderman Sidney protested against a scheme for giving the Home Secretary

control of what might become a large standing army in the City of

London.[174] Other members raised the cry of “centralisation,” and

denounced the measure as an attack on the principle of local

self-government. It was now the turn of London to be assailed, but

Manchester and Birmingham and all other powerful cities would soon share

the fate of the Metropolis. All over England municipal bodies naturally

made common cause with the City of London, and it was soon apparent that

the Government must either bend or break. Luckily it was discovered

that the Bill was not a public but a private Bill, and, as such, subject

in respect of notices to certain Standing Orders which had not been

obeyed. This omission gave Sir George Grey a technical excuse for

withdrawing it.

Vigorous efforts were made during 1863 to induce the Government to

recognise the Southern Confederacy, but they were made in vain. Mr.

Roebuck, in the House of Commons, proposed a motion in favour of

recognition, alleging that in an interview with Napoleon III. he had

discovered that France would co-operate with England for that

purpose--nay, he warned Lord Palmerston that France might recognise the

South without waiting for our co-operation. The Tory Party, though

strongly sympathising with Mr. Roebuck’s views, were restrained by their

leaders from harassing the Cabinet, and it was the general feeling that

Ministers should be left quite free to act. As for the Government,

through Lord Palmerston and Lord Russell, it repeatedly declared that it

was bent on adhering to a policy of scrupulous neutrality. But this was

a matter of some difficulty. Many Englishmen had engaged in the

lucrative trade of blockade-running. When their vessels failed to pass

the Federal cordon round the Southern ports, and were seized, their

owners, as Lord Russell said, “put on an air of injured innocence, and

came to the Foreign Office demanding redress.” In Parliament, too, their

friends attacked Ministers for meekly submitting to violations of

International Law by officers of the Federal Navy, and the investigation

of these cases, especially when the seizures were of doubtful legality,

raised many irritating controversies between the two Governments.

Swift-armed cruisers were built in English ports for the Confederate

States, and then taken out to sea, and fitted with their guns and

armaments. The difficulty of preventing their escape--at all times

serious--was aggravated by the uncertain state of English law on the

subject. One of these cruisers, the _Alabama_, had been allowed to sail

from the Mersey, and had committed fearful depredations on Federal

commerce. The American Government alleged that her escape was due to

Lord Russell’s culpable negligence. The truth was that the Government

meant to arrest the _Alabama_, but owing to the temporary mental

derangement of the Judge Advocate-General there was delay in going

through certain legal formalities, and before this was overcome the ship

had put out to sea. On the other hand, when another vessel of the same

class--the _Alexandra_--was seized, her seizure was pronounced illegal

by the English Law Courts. Lord Russell’s action was either too slow or

too quick, and in each case it served to irritate both North and South.

But the country gave the Government a generous support, recognising

their sincerity in endeavouring to maintain a neutral policy, in spite

of the pressure which was put upon them by Southern partisans.

In America the war dragged slowly on. On the 1st of January Mr.

Lincoln’s Proclamation abolishing slavery in the rebel States took

effect, but without producing a servile insurrection, as was

anticipated. After

[Illustration: MEMORIAL OF THE GREAT EXHIBITION IN THE ROYAL

HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY’S GARDENS, SOUTH KENSINGTON.]

the drawn battle of Murfreesborough, with which the year 1862 closed,

and the Federal defeat at Fredericksburg, the efforts of the North were

chiefly directed against Charleston. In April Admiral Dupont was

repulsed in an attack on the harbour, and in summer Admiral Dahlgren

resumed siege operations, but without success. In May General Hooker led

the Army of the Potomac across the Rappahannock, and took up positions

above and below that held by the Confederates at Fredericksburg. Lee, by

a rapid movement westward, crushed Hooker’s force at Chancellorsville,

and then suddenly doubling back easily defeated Sedgwick’s division

which had occupied Fredericksburg. The Army of the Potomac retraced its

steps across the Rappahannock, and Richmond was no longer menaced. On

the 4th of July Grant captured Vicksburg after a series of brilliant

operations, and then Port Hudson surrendered to Banks. This was a great

gain for the Federals, for not only did they clear the Mississippi of

rebels, but the powerful garrisons, with their material of war, which

President Davis had, by an inconceivable blunder, shut up in the river

forts, fell into their hands. At the beginning of summer Lee outflanked

Hooker, defeated Milroy on the Shenandoah, and then, by a daring

movement, crossed the Potomac, and, to the terror of the Government at

Washington, carried the war into Maryland and Pennsylvania. Hooker was

dismissed, and Meade, summoning all available troops to his standard,

marched in haste to arrest Lee’s progress. They met at Gettysburg,

where, after terrible slaughter, Lee confessed his failure, and

retreated unmolested to Virginia.[175] Beauregard’s successful defence

of Charleston consoled the Confederates for the failure of Lee’s

invasion of Maryland and Pennsylvania, and in September they were

further cheered by Longstreet’s victory over Rosecrans at Chickamauga in

Tennessee. Though the obstinate valour of General Thomas’s division

enabled Rosecrans to rally his troops on Chattanooga heights, the

position of the Federals in Tennessee was perilous. Rosecrans at

Chattanooga, and Burnside at Knoxville, were separated in the midst of a

hostile population, and Lee was hurrying on reinforcements to strengthen

General Bragg, who was threatening the Federal Commanders. On the other

hand, Grant, who had the chief command in this region, was reinforced by

Sherman, and he determined to attack Bragg as the easiest way of

relieving Burnside. This he did on the 23rd of November at Missionary

Ridge, his plan being to overwhelm Bragg’s right by hurling masses of

Sherman’s troops against it till he broke it up. When Sherman was

repulsed, the Federals then attacked the left centre of the Confederate

position, compelling Bragg to retreat to the frontier of Georgia. Grant

then fell back on Chattanooga, Burnside holding his entrenchments at

Knoxville, from which Longstreet drew off his forces. Thus, though the

Northern campaign in Virginia was unsuccessful, the Federals were

masters of the Mississippi and of Tennessee when the year closed. The

Confederate Government, failing to induce Lord Russell to recognise the

Southern States, withdrew their envoy, Mr. Mason, from London.

In early summer (8th May) the Queen and the Princess Alice paid a visit

rather unexpectedly to Netley Hospital, the foundation-stone of which

had been laid seven years before by the late Prince Consort. She visited

ward after ward, conversed with the invalided soldiers in a soft, low

voice, questioning

[Illustration: VISIT OF THE QUEEN TO NETLEY HOSPITAL.]

the officials about their cases, and even penetrated to the married

men’s quarters, where she carefully inquired into the comfort of the

soldiers’ wives and their families. One of the men, in whose case she

had interested herself, was dying, and in broken accents exclaimed, as

she went away, “I thank God that He has allowed me to live long enough

to see your Majesty with my own eyes.” On the 9th of June the Queen and

the younger members of her family came to town from Windsor to inspect

privately the memorial of the Great Exhibition--which also took the

character of a memorial to the late Prince Consort--in the Royal

Horticultural Society’s Gardens at Kensington. It was inaugurated next

day by the Prince and Princess of Wales, attended by a company of ladies

and gentlemen from the Court.

On the 12th of June the Queen received an extraordinary address on the

birthday of the late Prince Consort from the ballast-heavers of the Port

of London, which touched her very deeply. In it they said, “Before he

(Prince Albert) came to our aid we could only get work through a body of

riverside publicans and middlemen, who made us drink before they would

give us a job, made us drink while we were at it, and kept us waiting

for our wages, and drinking after we had done our work, so that we could

only take half our wages home to our families, and that half too often

through a drunkard’s hands.” The Prince, it seems, on getting an appeal

from them, privately persuaded the Government to insert a clause in the

Merchant Shipping Act putting these men under the control of the

Corporation of Trinity House. Then he used his influence in the

Corporation to pass rules for the employment of ballast-heavers, which

met most of their grievances, and he even gave them a house where they

might wait for work, supplied it with papers and books, and helped them

to start a benefit society. The men said in their address that they were

in the habit of celebrating their deliverance from bondage by an annual

treat on the Queen’s birthday, and they added, “Your Majesty will not

wonder that we then think with equal gratitude of our deliverer. He year

by year asked after us, and rejoiced to hear of our improvement while he

lived on earth.” They were, however, desirous of having a portrait of

the Prince to hang in their room, and begged the Queen to give them one.

“We hope,” they said, “your Majesty will excuse our boldness in asking

this favour, but we feel we may speak to our Prince’s wife; and,

therefore, praying you to grant our humble request, we are your

Majesty’s most obedient and faithful servants.” The Queen’s answer came

from her heart. It was as follows:--

“WINDSOR CASTLE, _June 12_.

“MY DEAR SIR,--I have had the honour to lay before her Majesty the

Queen the address from the ballast-heavers of the Port of London,

which you have forwarded to me for presentation. Her Majesty has

been deeply touched by this spontaneous testimony to the active

benevolence of her beloved husband, and amongst all the tokens of

sympathy in her grief, which she has gratefully received from all

classes of her people, no one has been more gratifying to the

Queen, and no one more in harmony with her feelings, than the

simple and unpretending tribute from these honest, hard-working

men. I am commanded to request that you will assure the

ballast-heavers that the interest in their welfare, so especially

displayed by him whose life was employed in endeavouring to benefit

the people of this country, is fully shared by her Majesty, and

that her Majesty rejoices to hear of the happy change in their

moral and social condition. The Queen has the greatest pleasure in

complying with the request contained in the address, and has

ordered two prints of the Prince Consort, one in uniform and one in

ordinary dress, to be framed and presented, to be hung in the room

in which the ballast-heavers wait; to these her Majesty has added

one of herself, as the Queen would wish, in the remembrance of

these grateful men, to be associated with her great and good

husband, whose virtues they have so highly and justly appreciated.

“Believe me, sincerely yours,

“C. B. PHIPPS.”

“Fredk. J. Furnivall, Esq.”

Nor was this the only occasion during the year on which the Queen

manifested her vigilant interest in the lot of her poorer subjects. In

July a wretched woman named Geneive had been forced by her husband to

walk on a rotten tight rope, suspended thirty yards above the ground, at

a Foresters’ Fête in Aston Park, Birmingham. The rope broke, and the

poor creature, who was far advanced in pregnancy, was dashed to pieces

in the most shocking manner. Yet the fête was continued, the Committee

callously determining “to go on with the programme, omitting the

dangerous parts.” On the 25th of July the Mayor of Birmingham was

somewhat startled to receive from Sir C. B. Phipps a letter in the

following terms:--“The Queen has commanded me to express to you the pain

with which her Majesty has read the account of a fatal accident which

has occurred during a fête at Aston Park, Birmingham. Her Majesty cannot

refrain from making known through you her personal feelings of horror

that one of her subjects--a female--should have been sacrificed to the

gratification of the demoralising taste, unfortunately prevalent, for

exhibitions attended with the greatest danger to the performers. Were

any proof wanting that such exhibitions are demoralising, I am commanded

to remark that it would be at once found in the decision arrived at to

continue the festivities, the hilarity, and the sports of the occasion

after an event so melancholy. The Queen trusts that you, in common with

the rest of the townspeople of Birmingham, will use your influence to

prevent in future the degradation to such exhibitions of the Park which

was gladly opened by her Majesty and the beloved Prince Consort, in the

hope that it would be made serviceable for the healthy exercise and

rational recreation of the people.” The Mayor explained that when he

became a patron of the fête he did not know that a dangerous exhibition

was contemplated, and though Aston Park was outside his jurisdiction, he

promised to use his influence to prevent such exhibitions from being

held there in future.

On the 11th of August the Queen left London for Antwerp, from which she

proceeded to Laeken with the King of the Belgians. From Belgium she went

on to Gotha, where she stayed at the Castle of Rosenau till the 7th of

September. On the 8th of the month her Majesty journeyed to

Kranichstein, near Darmstadt, and spent the day with the Princess Louis

of

[Illustration: THE QUEEN UNVEILING THE STATUE OF PRINCE ALBERT AT

ABERDEEN.]

Hesse. Leaving at night, the Queen was in Antwerp early next morning

(9th), and on the 10th at Greenhithe, whence the _Fairy_, steam tender

to the royal yacht, conveyed her to Woolwich. Driving to Nine Elms, she

took train to Windsor, greatly pleased by the hearty greetings she

received from crowds of people at the chief stations on the way. The

autumnal holiday was, as usual, spent at Balmoral, where a kindly and

sympathetic family party gathered round the Queen. Prince Louis of Hesse

and the Princess (Alice) stayed with her at the Castle. The Crown Prince

and Princess of Prussia, with their family, were lodged hard by at

Abergeldie. The Princess Louis of Hesse devoted herself to her mother,

and with characteristic energy endeavoured to dispel the heaviness of

heart which was again settling on her. For this purpose she urged the

Queen to resume the old open-air life among the mountains, from which

she had derived incalculable benefit in times past. The Princess

therefore organised an expedition to Clova, which her mother was induced

to join. The party consisted of the Queen, the Princess Louis of Hesse,

the Princess Helena, the Queen’s coachman, Smith, and her gillie, John

Brown, and “Willem,” a little black page-boy in the service of the

Princess Louis. The excursion was marred by an alarming accident which

befell the party on the way home. The coachman lost his way in the dark,

and about two miles from Altnagiuthasach the carriage was upset--the

Queen being flung violently on her face to the ground. “Alice,” writes

the Queen in her “Journal,” was “soon helped up, by means of tearing all

her clothes to disentangle her; but Lenchen (Princess Helena), who had

also got caught in her dress, called out very piteously, which

frightened me a good deal, but she was also got out with Brown’s

assistance, and neither she nor Alice was at all hurt. I reassured them

that I was not hurt, and urged that we should make the best of it, as it

was an inevitable misfortune.... Meantime the horses were lying on the

ground as if dead, and it was absolutely necessary to get them up again.

Alice, whose coolness was admirable, held one of the lamps while Brown

cut the traces, to the horror of Smith, and the horses were speedily

released, and got up unhurt.” The Queen’s common-sense advice to “make

the best of it” was taken, and the Royal party encamped in this desolate

mountain solitude, while Smith was sent on to get another carriage. Then

the Princesses discovered that their mother had been bruised severely on

the face, and that her right thumb was sprained. “A little claret,” the

Queen says, “was all we could get either to drink or wash my face and

hands.” Luckily, the groom, who had gone on in front with the

“shelties,” or rough little mountain ponies, which the Queen and her

family use for hill climbing, got alarmed at their long absence, and he

very sensibly rode back to see if any accident had happened. When he

came up the Queen insisted on mounting at once and riding all the way

home, which she reached after ten o’clock at night, to find the Crown

Prince of Prussia and Prince Louis of Hesse at the door of the Castle

anxiously looking out for her. A week after this accident (13th of

October) the Queen was present at the inauguration of Marochetti’s

statue to the Prince Consort at Aberdeen. “I could not reconcile it to

myself,” she said, in replying to an address from the subscribers, “to

remain at Balmoral while such a tribute was being paid to his (Prince

Albert’s) memory, without making an exertion to assure you personally of

the deep and heartfelt sense I entertain of your kindness and affection,

and at the same time to proclaim in public the unbounded reverence and

admiration, the devoted love, that fills my heart for him whose loss

must throw a lasting gloom over my future life.” It was a mournful

ceremony for the Queen, whose emotion was so great that she had to

depute Sir George Grey, the Minister in attendance, to read her reply.

Dense crowds of people filled the streets, but forbore to cheer,

greeting the Royal widow merely with silent and respectful sympathy. In

a letter to the Lord Provost of the city, the Queen, on her return to

Balmoral, assured him how fully she appreciated the consideration which

was shown for her feelings, not only by those who took part in the

ceremony, but by the townspeople generally, “on an occasion which was

one of severe and painful trial” for her. During the months of September

and October the Princess Louis of Hesse was in attendance on the Queen,

who was much cheered and benefited by her affectionate companionship.

But her visit came to an end in October, when the Princess, in a letter

to her Majesty written from Buckingham Palace, on her way to Darmstadt,

says of her sojourn, “It was such a happiness to speak to you, and in

return to hear all you had to say, to try and soothe you, and try to

make your burthen lighter.... I can only say again, trust, hope, and be

courageous, and every day will bring something in the fulfilment of your

great duties which will bring you peace and make you feel that you are

not forsaken, that God has heard your prayer, felt for you as a loving

Father would, and that dear papa is not far from you.”[176] The 14th of

December--the anniversary of the Prince Consort’s death--was passed in

deep seclusion by the Queen at Windsor. As the year closed the country

was relieved of all anxiety as to the Cotton Famine in Lancashire. The

crisis had, indeed, passed early in summer, and the nation no longer

feared that the calamity would prove unmanageable. The history of the

Cotton Famine may be termed a history of agreeable disappointments. It

was predicted that the prostration of trade in Lancashire would deal a

mortal blow at English commerce--that the revenue would dwindle to a

vanishing point--that the problem of sustaining vast masses of

pauperised labour, whose pauperism must be but the harbinger of general

bankruptcy among their employers, would prove insoluble--that their

starvation would breed pestilence and lead to outbreaks of violence and

crime, ending with seditious attacks on the Government and all

institutions that upheld law and order. Already it has been shown that

commerce, so far from declining, flourished apace during 1862-63, and

that the revenue increased so rapidly that Mr. Gladstone actually

remitted taxes.

The problem of relieving the distress was solved with ease and

simplicity. There were no epidemics of pestilence, and, save in

Stalybridge, no riotous disturbances. The noble resignation, the heroic

patience of the sufferers, and their perfect confidence in the sympathy

and the helpfulness of their countrymen, in fact compelled the

admiration of the civilised world. In the month of December, 1862, there

were 500,000 cotton operatives receiving relief in Lancashire, and the

loss in wages from lack of employment was estimated at £168,000. Cotton

then came in, though in small quantities, and some mills were able to

run. Emigration and the transference of labour to other employments also

relieved the pressure, so that in June, 1863, only 256,000 persons were

receiving relief in the afflicted districts. At the end of the year this

number was reduced to 180,000. So far from the health of the people

suffering, it rather improved. There was less infant mortality than

usual in the cotton districts, possibly because female operatives, being

thrown out of work, were able to devote more attention to their

children.[177] Enforced

[Illustration: SIR CHARLES PHIPPS.]

sobriety gave the people more power to resist disease, and sanitary

precautions which, at the instance of the Executive Committee in

Manchester, were taken by local authorities also tended to keep the

villages wholesome. The funds by which distress was relieved came from

special local rates levied by consent of Parliament in the unions; from

loans raised by local authorities under Parliamentary sanction, and

spent on public works which gave employment to the operatives; and, last

of all, from voluntary subscriptions, which were sent from all quarters

of the world. At first it was thought that little could be expected from

the cotton districts themselves. “Lancashire,” said Mr. Cobden to Lady

Hatherton, “with its machinery stopped is like a man in a fainting fit.

It would be as natural to attempt to draw money from the one as blood

from the other.”[178] But in one form or another, in voluntary

contributions, rates, loss of wages, depreciation of fixed capital,

business losses, Lancashire spent an aggregate of £12,445,000 in coping

with the Cotton Famine. Lancashire, indeed, raised £1,400,000 of the

voluntary contributions received up to April, 1863, which came to

£2,735,000. The work of administration was chiefly centred in the

Executive Committee at Manchester, the President of which was the Earl

of Derby. The voluntary labour at their command must have been very

great, for the cost of administration came only to 15s. for every £100.

What was afterwards called “the Conservative reaction” in Lancashire set

in after this Fund was distributed, for in time, when the old generation

of Radicals died out, their successors in the districts which had been

saved from starvation by the almoners of the Fund, who were often

zealous Anglicans, nearly all went over to the Tory Party. The Queen did

her utmost to contribute to the success of the Fund, and her joy was

unalloyed when she saw that its administrators had, in the beginning of

1864, averted the disaster that menaced her Northern Duchy.

[Illustration: THE ALBERT BRIDGE, WINDSOR.]

The Life and Times of Queen Victoria; vol. 3 of 4 · 第 7 / 16 章