THE TIDE OF DEMOCRACY.
Stemming the Tide of Democracy--Lord Derby and Reform--The Reform
League--The Riots in Hyde Park--Cowing the Ministry--The
Adullamites--Mr. Disraeli’s Resolutions--Crises in the Cabinet--The
Ten Minutes Bill--The Government Measure--Mr. Gladstone’s
Alterations--A Leap in the Dark--The Movement in Favour of German
Unity--The Austro-Prussian War--The Luxembourg Question--Execution
of the Emperor Maximilian--Mr. Disraeli’s Budget--Academic
Discussions of Irish Grievances--Fenian Outrages at Manchester and
Clerkenwell--Rattening at Sheffield--Prince Arthur Passes his
Military Examination--Illness of the Princess of Wales--Founding of
the Royal Albert Hall--The Sultan in England--Abdul Aziz,
K.G.--Visit of the Queen to the Duchess of Roxburghe--Dr. Macleod
at Balmoral--Prince Arthur ill of Smallpox--The Queen Keeping
Hallowe’en--Her Majesty Visits Lady Palmerston.
When Lord Derby came to power in 1866 he was reported to have said that
it would be his mission “to stem the tide of democracy.” It has,
therefore, been supposed that he was an irreconcilable opponent of
Reform. As he passed an extremely democratic measure of Parliamentary
Reform--thereby, to use his own phrase, “dishing the Whigs”--he has been
accused of the grossest possible tergiversation. What, then, was the
attitude of the Tories to Reform in 1866? The party, as a whole, was
certainly hostile to it. To give votes to people who paid £6 a year for
their houses meant, as Sir E. Bulwer Lytton declared, the
enfranchisement of “poverty and passion.” No speeches stirred the hearts
and sympathies of the Tory party throughout this country so strongly as
those in which Mr. Lowe, and other Adullamites, heaped the coarsest
abuse on the working-classes of England. In those days an English
artisan was spoken of in Tory society with an antipathy stronger even
than that with which the “mean whites” regarded the negroes in the
Southern States. The leaders of the Tory party, however--Lord Derby,
Lord Stanley, Mr. Disraeli, and Mr. Henley--never shared these
prejudices. But what would they do after being called to power by the
declared enemies of Reform? The first public utterances of Ministers did
not throw much light on their intentions. Mr. Disraeli told his
constituents that when the Government attempted to deal with Reform they
would not adopt any foreign pattern--either American or French--as a
model for the Parliamentary institutions of the country. He protested
that he could not discover whether the defeated Bill was based on the
rights of man or the rights of numbers. He seemed to have some notion
that “the estate of the Commons” should, like all other estates, have a
fair share in the Government of the country. But his idea evidently was
to enfranchise not masses but classes, and to give electoral power to
the _élite_ of all the different “orders” of society. Sir Stafford
Northcote was opposed to bringing in any new Reform Bill.[250] Lord
Stanley said bluntly that he had objected to the defeated Bill, because
it made the franchise lower than the House of Commons would endure; and
as for Lord Derby, his opinion was very ambiguous. He had no objection
to see the electorate largely increased. But his difficulty was, that
the agitators who were alone earnest in demanding Reform would never be
satisfied with any Bill which the great parties in the State could unite
in accepting. It was quite clear that he intended to let the matter rest
and ripen. Lord Derby and his colleagues, however, made a fatal mistake
in imagining that they would be allowed to let the matter rest. He
completely miscalculated the strength of the social and political forces
which had been let loose by the death of Lord Palmerston. The nation was
in a condition of suspense and excitement that recalled revolutionary
memories of 1848, and the working-classes had been roused from their
apathy by the speeches in which the Tories and Adullamites had held them
up to contempt. The Reform League promptly set on foot a great popular
agitation, and, to the astonishment of the Adullamites and the Tories,
the reply of the people to the refusal of a £6 franchise was a demand
for “registered residential manhood suffrage and the ballot.” Huge mass
meetings were held all over the country, at which this demand was put
forward, and the temper of the populace rapidly became revolutionary. An
accident brought this unpleasant fact home to the minds of Ministers.
The Reform League, under the leadership of Mr. Edmond Beales--an
energetic barrister, who afterwards became a County Court
Judge--organised a meeting in Hyde Park. On the 22nd of July, 1866,
notices were posted up by order of the Government prohibiting the
Reformers from holding the meeting. On the 23rd the Leaguers,
accompanied by an angry mob, proceeded to the Park and demanded
admission. When this was refused, Mr. Beales and his colleagues tried to
lead the crowd to Trafalgar Square for the purpose of protesting against
the action of the Home Secretary. But the crowd refused to be led. It
took a more summary and effective method of protesting, for it tore down
the railings of Hyde Park and held the ground till it was driven out,
after a desperate fight with the police and Life Guards. It was at first
supposed that this timely exhibition of force would end the conflict;
and Mr. Walpole, the Home Secretary, posted strong patrols of police and
soldiery all over the Park. That step was, of course, quickly resented
by the people. They attacked the police and the troops on the 24th, and
it was not till cavalry were employed that the turmoil was suppressed.
But during the whole day the fashionable people in carriages were pelted
with mud and stones by the “roughs” whenever they made their appearance.
This inglorious warfare went on in the same manner till the 27th, when
the Duke of Cambridge decided to bring up three additional regiments of
cavalry, whereupon it began to dawn on Society that somehow or other
life was not altogether pleasant in the West End of London under the new
“Government of moral order.” The Queen, whose legal right to exclude
people from the Royal Parks was the pretext for the action of the
Government, became extremely nervous as to the effect which the policy
of her Ministers might have on the stability of the Monarchy, and it
finally turned out that the Home Secretary had gone beyond the law, in
vindicating her Majesty’s rights over Hyde Park by military force. Those
rights were secured to the Crown solely by a civil action for trespass.
At the height of the dispute the leaders of the Reform League obtained
an interview with Mr. Walpole, in the course of which that amiable but
misguided Minister shed tears when the grave consequences of his action
became manifest to him. He withdrew his opposition to the use of the
Park. The Reformers held their meetings, and on the 28th of July London
was so quiet and orderly, that no chance visitor would have dreamt that
it had during the week been on the verge of revolution. Parliament was
prorogued on the 11th of August, and the agitation went on throughout
the country.
The Derby-Disraeli Government were by this time completely cowed by the
mob, and they frankly admitted that it was too dangerous to let Reform
alone. Parliament met on the 5th of February, 1867, and was opened by
the Queen, who, though driven in a close carriage from the Palace to
Westminster, was received with the heartiest cheers by crowds of people,
who, despite the wet and dismal weather, came out to greet her as she
passed. The Royal Speech was listened to with suppressed excitement,
especially when the paragraph relating to Reform was read by the Lord
Chancellor. It, however, merely hinted at the introduction of a measure
for extending the Franchise, so that naturally attention was next
concentrated on Mr. Disraeli’s utterances on the vexed question.[251] He
rather amused his opponents by solemnly announcing that the subject of
Reform should no longer be treated as one to determine the fate of
Cabinets.[252] No doubt it was a little difficult to treat such an
announcement seriously, coming from a Minister who had dexterously used
the question for the purpose of upsetting Lord Russell’s Cabinet. Still,
it was the wisest policy that could be adopted in the circumstances, and
its adoption had been strongly pressed on Lord Derby by the Queen
herself. Her Majesty’s view was that the history, especially the recent
history, of the Reform agitation, proved conclusively two things--first,
that no possible Government could by its own effort and authority carry
a Reform Bill; and second, as Mr. Gladstone had himself admitted to her,
that with a £10 franchise it was not likely that a House of Commons
could be obtained with a strong working majority pledged to support a
Reform Ministry. “If,” said Lord Derby, in his speech on the Address, in
words which aptly reflected the
[Illustration: GREAT DEMONSTRATION AT THE REFORMERS’ TREE IN HYDE
PARK.]
opinion of the Sovereign, “we desire to see the representation of the
country placed upon a sound basis; if we desire to see a settlement of
the question, which I will not say shall be final, but which shall
render unnecessary and improbable any further agitation upon the subject
for a very considerable time, then I say this object cannot be attained
by making the question one of party and political strife for the purpose
of obtaining office or Parliamentary majorities. The question must be
examined in a fair, deliberate, and dispassionate spirit; we must be
prepared to give and take, to meet each other’s views, and, above all
things, to cast away all party objects.”
[Illustration: LORD CARNARVON.
(_From a Photograph by the London Stereoscopic Company._)]
The real obstacle had been the Adullamites. But, says Mr. Hayward, in a
letter to Mr. Gladstone, dated the 31st of January, “the Cave has split
already. Elcho, Lord Grosvenor, heading one section with Lowe and
Horsman; Beaumont, Dunkellin, &c., with the other; the numbers about
equal.... Beaumont and Co. would vote for an immediate settlement of the
Reform Question. This he told me. Elcho would consent to no reduction of
the Franchise.”[253] The fate of this small but brilliant party, Bishop
Wilberforce says, inspired Mr. Gladstone with a new commandment--“Thou
shalt not commit Adullamy.”[254]
On the 11th of February Mr. Disraeli explained to the House of Commons
how the Government intended to deal with Reform. He suggested that they
should pass a series of Resolutions admitting the necessity of
increasing the electorate, and of giving more direct representation to
the working-classes, but affirming that it was contrary to the
Constitution to give any single interest in the country dominant power
over the others. His Resolutions were also in favour of basing the
franchise on rating, of plural voting, of the use of voting papers, and
of the extension of borough boundaries. The House of Commons, however,
clearly showed that it desired the Government to bring in a Bill, and
that was plainly the opinion of the public also. Lord Malmesbury writes
on the 16th of February:--“New plan on Reform proposed by Disraeli. Four
franchises, namely, £5 rated house, £50 in savings bank, an educational
franchise, and direct taxation, supposed in its result to give 680,000
voters to property, and 360,000 to democracy. General Peel positively
objects. The press, in a body, abuse our Resolutions.”[255] On the 19th
a Cabinet meeting was held, at which General Peel, finding he was the
only dissentient, withdrew his objections.[256] But public opinion was
against the scheme, and the spirit of dissension was brooding over the
Cabinet. “Meanwhile,” writes Lord Malmesbury, who has given the world
the only authentic account of the secret history of the startling events
which followed, “after a Cabinet held on Saturday, Feb. 22nd, at which
no difficulty occurred, and after Lord Derby’s having gone down to
Windsor to announce unanimity of the Cabinet, on Sunday night Lord
Cranborne informed Lord Carnarvon that he could not agree to the Reform
Bill as it stood, and must resign. Lord Carnarvon did the same, and at
8.30 on Feb. 25th they wrote to Lord Derby to call a Cabinet at twelve
for Lord Cranborne to explain his objections. The confusion may be
conceived, as at 2 p.m. Lord Derby had summoned his party to hear the
new Bill, and Disraeli was to explain it at five in the House of
Commons. It was a paralysis. The dissentients were now joined by
General Peel, who refused to remain [he had dissented from the first],
and in half an hour, at Stanley’s suggestion, they agreed to meet the
M.P.’s with a Bill founded on the £6 and £20 rating, to which the trio
agreed. This crude action exposed us to great condemnation and
ridicule.” The Bill was afterwards nicknamed the “Six Hours Bill,” and
some indiscreet revelations which were made by Sir John Pakington led to
it being scoffed at as “the Ten Minutes Bill.” A more ludicrous blunder
has probably never been committed by any Government, as some of the
Ministers confessed to each other. “No doubt,” writes Lord Malmesbury,
“the best thing in such a position would have been to accept the
resignation of these three able and honourable men (however serious the
loss), and to tell the truth to Parliament, deferring the Bill for a
week. I wrote a strong letter to Lord Derby from Heron Court, begging
him to do this. The following Saturday it was done, and the Dukes of
Richmond and Marlborough and Mr. Corry took the vacant seats in the
Cabinet--the first as Board of Trade, the second as Colonial Secretary,
the third as First Lord of the Admiralty; Northcote, India; and
Pakington, War Office. The statement made by Lords Cranborne and
Carnarvon was that Disraeli and Baxter[257] had completely mistaken
their figures, and that the result would not be what we intended, but
would be perfectly fatal.”
On the 26th of February a meeting of Liberal members, held at Mr.
Gladstone’s house, expressed a very strong opinion against the
Resolutions and against the Bill with the four franchises--“fancy
franchises,” they were called by Mr. Bright and the Radicals--which Mr.
Disraeli had sketched under pressure from Mr. Gladstone on the previous
day. It was resolved to move an amendment to the Resolutions. But on the
same evening Mr. Disraeli foiled this attack by withdrawing them, and by
promising to bring in a Bill next week. This was the “Ten Minutes Bill”
which had just been adopted in haste by the Ministers at their
distracted Councils in Lord Derby’s house. On the 28th of February Lord
John Manners, in a letter to Lord Malmesbury, writes:--“A meeting of
Conservative M.P.’s was held at the Carlton to-day, Sir M. W. Ridley in
the chair; between 120 and 150 present. Much difference of opinion, no
resolutions passed, but a general disposition evinced in favour of rated
residential household suffrage _v._ £6 rating and an equal division of
new seats between the counties and the boroughs. An anxious desire
expressed that we should fix upon the franchise thought best and then
stick to it, declining to carry our opponents’ measure. They (our
opponents) are, I believe, in equal difficulties, and are quite unable
to take office at present.”[258] On the 4th of March it was made known
to the country that Lord Carnarvon, Lord Cranborne, and General Peel had
resigned their seats in the Cabinet; and on the 18th of March Mr.
Disraeli asked and obtained leave to bring in the Bill which the
Government had finally adopted. In the debate on the Second Reading Mr.
Gladstone somewhat haughtily formulated the changes in it which he must
demand. These practically eviscerated the Bill, and at the time it was
not supposed that the Government could with any degree of self-respect
assent to them. But when the Bill went into Committee it was soon
apparent that Mr. Gladstone and his followers meant to force all their
proposals on the Government. Ministers day after day held melancholy and
mournful Cabinet meetings, and it was with rage that the Adullamites saw
the men whom they had brought into office surrendering position after
position.
[Illustration: MR. DISRAELI INTRODUCING HIS REFORM BILL IN THE HOUSE OF
COMMONS.]
“The _laissez aller_ system followed by the Government,” writes Lord
Malmesbury in May, “trying to make the best they could of it, but
constantly yielding something. The Conservative members seem disposed to
adopt anything, and to think that it is ‘in for a penny in for a
pound.’” At each Cabinet meeting it was found that the Bill had become
more Radical; indeed, it seemed as if Tory opposition stimulated Radical
aggressiveness. Nor was the demoralisation confined to the Tory Party.
There was some dread lest the persistent humiliation to which Mr.
Gladstone and his
[Illustration: COUNCIL CHAMBER, OSBORNE.
(_After a Photograph by F. G. C. Stuart, Southampton._)]
subordinates subjected Mr. Disraeli day after day might tempt him to
resign and abandon the Bill. A body of Radicals, called the “Tea Room
Clique,” began to give the Government friendly aid, and so greatly
encumbered Mr. Gladstone’s opposition, that for a time he refused to be
responsible for the leadership of the Liberal Party. The great
difficulty was to apply the Bill to tenants who compounded with their
landlords for their rates. As these householders were not _personally_
rated, they would not be enfranchised. Mr. Gladstone’s idea was to
definitely fix the franchise at a £5 rating limit, and on the 5th of
April Mr. Coleridge was put up to move an instruction to the Committee
to clear the path for Mr. Gladstone’s proposal. The Radicals who met in
the “Tea Room” of the House of Commons forced Mr. Coleridge to give way.
When Mr. Gladstone in Committee proposed his plan, it was defeated by
the defection of the Tea Room Party. Finally, the matter was settled by
Mr. Disraeli putting an end to the practice of compounding for rates, so
that every householder, unless he were a pauper, got a vote. Perhaps the
most graphic view of the struggles, and the confused strife of this
Session when Mr. Disraeli demoralised his own party by perpetual
surrender, and broke up the Opposition under the solvent of intrigue,
is given by Mr. Paul’s comparison of the original provisions of the Bill
and its provisions when it received the Queen’s assent.
ORIGINAL BILL. BILL AS PASSED.
Household franchise in boroughs, conditional Household franchise,
on _two_ years’ residence, and personal payment conditional on
of rates. _one_ year’s residence;
compound householder ,
abolished the occupier
alone being rated.
£15 franchise in counties. £12 franchise in counties.
Educational franchise for graduates or associates _No_ educational franchise.
in Arts of any University of the United
Kingdom, for those who passed senior middle-class
examinations, for clergymen, professional
men, and schoolmasters.
A pecuniary franchise for savings bank depositors _No_ pecuniary franchise.
with balance of £50, fundholders of like
amount, and direct taxpayers to the amount of
£1 per annum.
Dual voting--a provision entitling the holder _No_ dual voting.
of the pecuniary franchise to vote for the same
borough in respect to any franchise involving
occupation of premises, and payment of rates.
Voting papers. _No_ voting papers.
_No_ lodger franchise. A £10 lodger franchise.
_No_ cumulative vote or three-cornered
constituencies, _Four_ three-cornered
these being declared by Mr. Disraeli constituencies.
erroneous in principle and pernicious in practice.
Twenty-three towns under 7,000 in population Thirty-five towns below
to be deprived of one member, and Totnes, 10,000 in population
Reigate, Great Yarmouth, and Lancaster, convicted deprived of one member.
of corrupt practices, to be disfranchised. Eleven boroughs
ultimately disfranchised.
Fourteen of the new seats to be given to Eighteen of the new seats
boroughs, fifteen to counties, and one to London to boroughs, twenty-five
University. to the counties,
and one to London
University, one seat being
afterwards given to Wales,
and seven to Scotland.
_No_ third members to Manchester, Liverpool, Three members given to
Birmingham, and Leeds. Manchester, Liverpool,
Birmingham, and Leeds.[259]
As the Duke of Buccleuch said bitterly, the only part of the Bill which
the Radicals had allowed to stand was “the word ‘Whereas.’” Mr.
Disraeli, in fact, induced his party to tolerate the measure because he
surrounded Household Suffrage with an elaborate series of checks. The
process of removing these one by one, but so gradually that he
familiarised his followers with capitulation, was the process which he
subsequently described in a speech at Edinburgh as that of “educating
his party.” But when the checks disappeared the Conservative Reform Bill
was to all intents and purposes the Bill of Mr. Bright and the advocates
of Household Suffrage pure and simple. In June Lord Malmesbury says,
“After many vicissitudes, the Reform Bill came up to the House of Lords,
and Lord Derby moved the Second Reading without a division, saying it
was ‘a leap in the dark.’ Peers on our side were averse to it, but at a
meeting of them Lord Derby said he would resign if it was rejected.”
That settled the matter. The Bill was ultimately passed on the 15th of
August with only one important amendment--the clause creating the
three-cornered constituencies. The Bills for Scotland and Ireland were
carried in the following year, the Irish franchise being, however, fixed
at £4 in boroughs. At Manchester and Edinburgh Lord Derby and Mr.
Disraeli, during the recess, celebrated the passing of the Bill at great
Conservative festivals, Mr. Disraeli vaunting the success with which he
had “educated” his party up to the point of surrender.
During the struggle for Parliamentary Reform in England another great
democratic movement on the Continent was in full and rapid progress. It
was the movement of the German people in favour of German Unity, which
had been arrested in 1848. The pacific policy of the Queen had saved
England from sharing in Palmerston’s wild scheme to thwart the
aspirations of the German race in 1865. Hence Englishmen could view
critically the strife between the people of Germany, led by Prussia, and
the forces of Teutonic feudalism, organised and made militant by
Austria. But it was impossible for the Queen to be indifferent to the
result of this conflict. The husbands of her daughters were fighting on
different sides. The struggle had been long foreseen by the Prince
Consort, who was a strong partisan of German Unity, and had for years
used all his influence with the Court of Berlin to induce Prussia to
lead the national movement in Germany. In the summer of 1866 Europe felt
that the truce of Gastein was fast coming to an end. Manteuffel was the
Prussian Governor of Holstein. Goblenz was the Austrian Governor of
Sleswig, and the claims of the Augustenburg Pretender--reserved for
future settlement by the Convention of Gastein--soon furnished the
administrators of the two provinces with a fruitful cause of quarrel.
When a popular ovation was accepted by the Prince-Pretender in Sleswig,
Manteuffel harshly reprimanded him. At Kiel in Holstein Austria openly
encouraged the Pretender’s Party in defiance of Prussia. Agitators from
South Germany went about the country, under Austrian patronage, urging
the Holsteiners to shake off the yoke of Prussia. The “conjoint
dominion’ was no longer endurable. Austria proposed to submit the
dispute to the German Diet, a proposal which Prussia rejected, and when
the Powers began to prepare for war, their example was followed by
Italy, who now saw her chance of delivering Venice. In fact, early in
spring, 1866, Italy and Prussia had entered into a secret Treaty
embodying offensive and defensive action against Austria. The French
Emperor knew of the existence of this Treaty, and it was a mystery why
he did not intervene between the disputants. The probability is that he
calculated on being able to interfere with profit to France after
Prussia and Austria had each exhausted themselves in a long and
sanguinary struggle, a reckoning which the sudden collapse of Austria
completely upset. Napoleon III., though ostensibly suggesting a
reference of the dispute to a European Conference, was secretly
intriguing with both Powers. To Prussia he proposed an alliance on the
basis of ceding to France the left bank of the Rhine, including Belgium,
which England was bound to defend by arms. To Austria he offered an
alliance based on the cession of Venice to Italy, in return for
Silesia--a province which every Prussian regards with pride, as one of
the Great Frederick’s spoils of war. And all this time England was under
the delusion that France was still a loyal ally, while the English
Foreign Office was in utter darkness as to the subterranean negotiations
in which Napoleon was engaged. Nothing now made for peace, except the
scruples of the King of Prussia, who was personally attached to the
Austrian Emperor, and who regarded with horror anything approaching
fratricidal strife. The project of a Conference was abandoned because
Austria disliked it. Prussia refused to submit to the arbitration or
jurisdiction of the German Diet, the majority of which took the side of
Austria, and the Austrians accordingly plunged into war, with Bavaria,
Würtemberg, Hanover, Saxony, and many of the smaller States as their
allies. In England fashionable opinion was all in favour of Austria. Her
army, we were assured by the leading organs of the upper classes, was
invincible. As for the troops and the generals of Prussia, they were
spoken of as if they were beneath contempt.
On the 14th of June the Diet, 1866, on the motion of Austria, resolved
to put in Federal execution against Prussia, in Holstein. On the 16th
Prussian troops were marching through Hanover, Hesse-Cassel, and
Hesse-Darmstadt in three columns on Saxony. This swift blow paralysed
the minor States; in fact, Bavaria, with her army of 100,000, was not
ready to come to the help of Austria till the war was over. Western
Germany north of the Maine thus fell an easy prey to Prussian skill and
valour. But that skill and valour were more conspicuously displayed in
the chief theatre of the war. The Austrian commander, Marshal Benedek,
having allowed the Prussians to seize Dresden at the outset, joined the
Austrians in Bohemia. In two columns, one under the “Red Prince”
(Frederick Charles), and the other under the Crown Prince (the “our
Fritz” of the Queen’s family), the Prussians poured like a rapid and
resistless torrent through Saxony and the Silesia passes, in a parallel
line, into the plains of Bohemia. What need to tell the tale? The flower
of the Austrian army--its German troops--was wasted in Venetia. The
Italian and Hungarian regiments in Bohemia were disaffected. The
Prussians had the needle-gun, whereas the Austrians had the old,
slow-firing muzzle-loader. Von Moltke, the ablest strategist in Europe,
directed the Prussian attack, and thus fight after fight was lost by
Austria. On the 3rd of July, 1866, the crowning victory of the war was
won by Prussia at Sadowa, where the Crown Prince, aided by Blumenthal,
played the part of Blucher at Waterloo, and the invincible Austrian
Empire lay prostrate in the dust. In Italy the Austrians were more
successful. They won the battle of Custozza and the sea-fight of
Lissa--victories which were barren of results. Peace was signed at
Prague on the 23rd of August, 1866. Venice had been surrendered to
France, who was to hand it over to Italy. Austria was expelled from
Germany, and the Danish duchies were transferred to Prussia, but with
the proviso that the people of North Sleswig might, if they desired it,
join Denmark. Saxony, however, retained a certain amount of
independence, whereas the smaller States were to be organised into a new
German Confederation under Prussian leadership. Germany north of the
Maine was annexed to Prussia. The triumph of Prussia was immediately
followed by the reorganisation of the French army, and the initiation of
reforms in Austria.
[Illustration: PRAGUE.]
The aim of Lord Derby’s Government had been to withdraw England entirely
from foreign politics, but that did not prevent Englishmen from
rejoicing at the creation of a strong progressive German Power in
Central Europe capable of curbing the restless ambition of France, and
at the defeat of Austria--one of the strongholds of decaying feudalism.
During 1867 the work of consolidating North Germany went on rapidly, and
Baron Beust, the Saxon Minister, was called to carry out the new policy
of reconstruction in Austria. At last the independence of Hungary was
recognised, and the Austrian Emperor having sworn to maintain the
Hungarian Constitution, he was crowned in Pesth as King of this ancient
Monarchy. When Hungary had been conciliated, Baron Beust next proceeded
to frame a constitution for the other provinces of the Empire. One
little cloud, however, arose on the untroubled horizon of the English
Foreign Office. A pending dispute as to the occupation of Luxembourg
tempted Lord Stanley to interfere in Continental affairs during the
spring. The King of Holland was Grand Duke of Luxembourg, and he had
entered into a secret agreement to sell it to France. But the capital of
the province was held by a Prussian garrison, and the new North German
Parliament objected strongly to permit a German province to pass under
French dominion. France, on the other hand, demanded the evacuation of
Luxembourg, and on the 23rd of April, 1867, Lord Stanley wrote to inform
Lord Malmesbury that war was imminent. The Luxembourg Question arose
simply because the French Emperor had been outwitted by Bismarck’s
diplomacy. The claim of France for a cession of German frontier had been
postponed till after the peace with Austria was signed. By giving the
South German States easy and generous terms, Bismarck had induced them
to sign secret Treaties with Prussia, putting their armies at her
disposal should France make war on her. Hence, when M. Benedetti
presented the French claim for compensation in 1866, Bismarck defied his
threats, and as France had neither allies in Germany nor breechloaders
in her arsenals, she had to submit. But in 1867 Napoleon imagined he had
discovered in Luxembourg a door into Germany that could be forced by
diplomacy, and hence the negotiations with the King of Holland, which
had been rendered abortive by the resistance of Prussia. The French
ambassador in London then appealed to Lord Stanley to use his good
offices as mediator, his proposal being that France would cease to press
for the purchase of Luxembourg if Prussia would evacuate the garrison,
which barred one of the military routes from France into Germany.
England advised Prussia to give way. Russia proposed a Conference of the
Powers to settle the question, a proposal which Prussia accepted, and
the more especially as she doubted whether the dissolution of the Bund
which authorised her occupation of Luxembourg had not destroyed her
claim to maintain her garrison there. She had also failed to induce
Austria to enter into an alliance with her, and so she was open to
consider a compromise. Prussia withdrew from the fortress on condition
of its being dismantled and the territory “neutralised,” and the
European guarantee for the neutralisation of Luxembourg was supposed to
be a sufficient compensation for the loss of the fortress. This
arrangement was formulated in the Treaty signed at London on the 11th of
May, 1867, and at the time it enhanced the _prestige_ of the Tory
Government, to whose diplomacy it was greatly due. But, as a matter of
fact, it simply served to embitter the relation of the disputing Powers.
It left Prussia angry because France had ousted her from the fortress.
It left France angry because Prussia had thwarted her attempt to take
the territory. Altogether, the Foreign Policy of France in 1867 was
strangely bungled. Napoleon, by forbidding the King of Italy to
“protect” the Pope against Garibaldian bands, had humiliated a grateful
ally. French troops crushed the Garibaldians at Mentana, and thereby
deeply wounded the susceptibilities of the Italian people. Worst of all,
the Mexican tragedy utterly discredited the French Government in the
eyes of Europe. For when France withdrew her troops from Mexico, under
pressure from the United States, the Emperor Maximilian elected to
remain in the country. His cause soon became hopeless. The Empress
Charlotte undertook a fruitless journey to Europe to beg for succour,
which was denied her. Her husband was finally taken prisoner by the
Mexican Republicans, and shot by order of a court-martial. “There is a
very touching account,” writes Lord Malmesbury on the 10th of July, “in
to-day’s papers of the Emperor Maximilian’s execution. He died like a
Christian and a soldier. His poor wife has become quite insane. The
French expedition to Mexico, and its tragical end are a sad blot on
Louis Napoleon’s career.”[260]
Though the colony of Victoria was still vexed by the conflict between
the two orders of its Legislature, and India was suffering from a famine
in one of its Provinces, the dependencies of England in 1867 enjoyed
profound tranquillity. One of them, indeed, took a new departure in
colonial history. On the 26th of February Lord Carnarvon, carrying out
the policy of his predecessor, passed a Bill through the House of Lords,
incorporating the scattered provinces of Canada into a Federal Dominion.
The financial history of the year, too, was uneventful. Mr. Disraeli
introduced his Budget on the 4th of April, just before the Easter
recess. In the previous year Mr. Gladstone had determined to use the
balance of his surplus for the creation of terminable annuities in order
to extinguish debt. The distracted state of affairs abroad, and the
difficulties of the Government at home had, however, frustrated the
scheme. But it was adopted by Mr. Disraeli in 1867. “He converted
£6,000,000 of stock,” says Mr. A. J. Wilson, “costing £180,000 per annum
in interest, into an annuity of £440,000, expiring in April, 1885. Of
the gross estimated surplus of £1,200,000 he proposed to keep £250,000
against contingencies; and the resolution was wise, for, owing to the
Abyssinian War, and to the increase in the general costliness of the
public services, the year ended with a considerable deficit. Mr.
Disraeli estimated his revenue at £69,340,000, and the actual income was
£69,600,000. But the expenditure, instead of being only £68,134,000, as
estimated, reached £71,759,000. Deducting £2,000,000 charged that year
to the war, the ordinary expenditure still exceeded the estimate by
fully a million and a half, about £700,000 of which was due to the
increased cost of civil administration.”[261] Hence the
[Illustration: LAST MOMENTS OF THE EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN.
(_After the Picture by Jean-Paul Laurens._)]
people said that the old ill-luck of the Tories in finance followed them
still. The days of plump surpluses had vanished, and those of growing
expenditure and dismal deficits had begun. The only remission of
taxation which Mr. Disraeli proposed was the reduction of the Marine
Insurance Duties. The Budget, in fact was a tribute to those who, like
Mr. Mill and Mr. Stanley Jevons, had impressed the public mind that the
time had come when sacrifices must be made not to reduce taxes, but to
pay off National Debt.
[Illustration: LORD NAAS (AFTERWARDS EARL OF MAYO).]
The Session of 1867 was not prolific in Irish legislation. Ministers and
private members once more made futile attempts to unravel the tangled
web of the Land Tenure question. One measure, indeed, of a vigorous and
decided character, was rapidly passed, namely, the Act for continuing
for three months the suspension of the Habeas Corpus in Ireland. But as
to land tenure, Lord Naas, on behalf of the Government, introduced a
Bill very early in the Session to promote the improvement of land by
tenants. The Bill was founded on the principle of the Lands Improvement
Act. There were several kinds of improvements, for the making of which
money was advanced under the Lands Improvement Act. These were, thorough
draining, the reclamation of waste lands, the removal of old and useless
fences, the making of farm roads, and the erection of farmhouses,
dwellings, and other buildings. On the Second Reading of Lord Naas’ Bill
being moved, a considerable diversity of opinion was exhibited with
respect to the tendency and operation of the measure. Several amendments
were proposed and discussed at length, and the debate was adjourned.
Owing, partly to the pressure occasioned by the Reform debates, and
other questions, and partly to a general impression of the futility of
attempting to carry a measure of this description, the Bill was dropped.
Another effort was made, with similar results, by the Marquis of
Clanricarde, who laid on the table of the House of Lords a Bill for
giving facilities for voluntary contracts between landlords and tenants
in Ireland. The Bill did not obtain a second reading. A third attempt to
deal with the difficulty was made by Sir Colman O’Loghlan, who obtained
leave to bring in a Bill, its main object being to encourage the
granting of leases, and to discourage tenancies at will. After much
controversy this measure was also dropped, and the Irish people read the
old moral from these debates, that they must look elsewhere than to
Parliament for the redress of their grievances. An effort was now made
to raise the Irish Church Question. Sir John Gray, on the 7th of May,
moved that the House of Commons on a future day resolve itself into
committee to consider the temporalities and privileges of the
Established Church in Ireland. This was a motion that was not
unattractive to the Whigs, and so Colonel Greville seconded it as a
Protestant who, living in Ireland, felt it his duty to protest in the
strongest manner against the continuance of an unjust establishment. Sir
Frederick Heygate moved the previous question, and then Mr. Gladstone
intervened, giving a hint of his coming Irish policy. He found a
difficulty in supporting the Resolution, not because he questioned the
soundness of it, but because it was an abstract Resolution, and the
House ought not to pass it without having a plan for giving effect to
it. We might, he contended, support a religious establishment to
maintain truth, but we did not support the Irish Protestant
establishment for that purpose only, seeing that we also supported the
Catholic College of Maynooth. We might maintain an established church
because its doctrines were those of the bulk of the people. But that was
notoriously not the case in Ireland. We might keep up an established
church to supply the poorest class of the community with free and cheap
religious teaching. But the Protestant Church in Ireland was the church
of the rich. He trusted the time was not far distant when Parliament
would take the question of the Irish Church up; and when it did he hoped
that “a result would be arrived at which would be a blessing to all.”
This speech, coming from the author of the celebrated work in defence of
established churches, was listened to with consternation by the Tories.
They began to regret that they had “unmuzzled” Mr. Gladstone, to use
Palmerston’s phrase, by turning him out of Oxford. The matter was,
however, shelved for a time, the “previous question” being carried by a
majority of 195 to 183.
That the attack was preconcerted by the Liberal leaders was indicated by
the fact that in the House of Lords Earl Russell, on the 24th of June,
moved an address to the Queen, praying her to order, by Royal
Commission, or otherwise, full information to be procured as to the
revenues of the Established Church in Ireland, with a view to their more
equitable application for the benefit of the Irish people. Lord Russell
hinted that he favoured the application to Ireland of the voluntary
principle, and if that were done he would appropriate the property of
the Church to educational purposes. Lord Cairns, however, declared that
the destruction of the Established Church, whose function it was to
teach Christian truth, would be fatal to the landed interest, and to the
commerce of Ireland with England. But a motion for an address praying
simply for a Royal Commission was agreed to, and the Commission was
issued by the Crown in the ensuing autumn. Meantime, as the _Times_
wrote in 1865, Ireland was “being cleared quietly for the interests and
luxury of humanity.” And yet not too quietly. The progress of Fenianism,
especially in the British Army, was wonderfully rapid. Hundreds of
agitators were carrying on their secret propaganda. Scores of
Irish-American officers were pouring into Ireland, telling the people
that General Sheridan and other hot-headed soldiers of their race in the
United States were eager to interfere on their behalf. Early in 1867
sporadic risings of small, half-armed mobs were put down with ease, and
in the trials which followed the capital sentence passed on those found
guilty was commuted to one of penal servitude, the abstinence of the
rebels from wanton outrage giving the Queen a reasonable ground for
exercising her prerogative of mercy. But the Fenian organisation had
grown to unexpected strength in England, and within a few days after
Ministers announced the Bill suspending Habeas Corpus in Ireland (11th
of February) a band of men, headed by Irish-American officers, would
have surprised and seized the arsenal of Chester Castle, with its 20,000
stand of arms, had not their design been divulged by treachery. In
autumn an event occurred which has to this day been the matter of hot
controversy between Irishmen and Englishmen. The leadership of the
Fenian conspiracy had now passed into the hands of a Colonel Kelly, who
succeeded Mr. Stephens. He was returning from a meeting at Manchester
with his friend Captain Deasy, and they were both arrested by the police
on suspicion of loitering for purposes of burglary. They gave false
names, but it was soon discovered who they were. The Fenians of
Manchester resolved to rescue them, and on the 18th of September the
prison van in which Kelly and Deasy were being conveyed to Salford was
attacked by a body of thirty armed men. The horses were shot. The escort
ran away, and the Fenians then ordered Police Sergeant Brett, who was on
duty inside the van to unlock the door. He refused, and a pistol was
fired at the lock, in order to break it. Unfortunately, the bullet
struck Brett, who died from the wound. Kelly and Deasy made their
escape, and were heard of no more. But in the meantime a crowd had
gathered, and had nearly stoned to death William Philip Allen, one of
the rescuing party, several of whom, including men called Larkin,
Maguire, O’Brien (_alias_ Gould), and Condon (_alias_ Shore), were
captured and tried for the murder of Sergeant Brett. They were all
sentenced to be hanged, though the evidence against them was somewhat
faulty. One of the prisoners (Maguire) was undoubtedly arrested by
mistake, and the newspaper reporters who were present at his trial
petitioned for his release. On further investigation it was found that
the reporters were right, and the man was set free. But three of the
prisoners were executed on the 23rd of November, although they protested
they had not the remotest idea of hurting Sergeant Brett. “Condon,”
writes Mr. T. P. O’Connor, M.P., “in speaking, used a phrase that has
become historic: ‘I have nothing,’ he said, in concluding his speech,
‘to regret or to take back. I can only say, ‘God save Ireland.’ His
companions advanced to the front of the dock, and, raising their hands,
repeated the cry, ‘God save Ireland’”[262]--a phrase that became the
shibboleth or watchword of the Irish Nationalist Party. Condon was
reprieved because he was an American citizen. Numbers of eminent
Englishmen--headed by Mr. John Bright, Mr. Mill, and Mr.
Swinburne--endeavoured to get the others reprieved also, but in vain.
Allen, Larkin, and O’Brien were hanged on the 23rd of November, and
their execution produced a profound impression on the Irish race all
over the world. In the towns in Ireland great and solemn funeral
processions marched through the streets. Mr. T. D. Sullivan wrote the
poem “God save Ireland,” which displaced the National Anthem at Irish
political gatherings. “To an Irishman,” writes Mr. O’Connor, “then a
youth, living in the country house of his fathers, and deeply immersed
in the small concerns of a squire’s daily life, the execution of the
Manchester martyrs was a new birth of political convictions. To him,
brooding from his early days over the history of his country, this
catastrophe came to crystallise impressions into conviction, and to pave
the way from dreams to action. It was the execution of Allen, Larkin,
and O’Brien that gave Mr. Parnell to the service of Ireland.”[263] But
another event happened which made it clear that the Fenian conspiracy
was still formidable. One of its leaders, an Irish-American officer
named Burke, had been captured and cast into Clerkenwell gaol, and his
friends resolved to rescue him. Their agents, on the 13th of December,
placed a barrel of gunpowder opposite the exercising ground of the gaol,
where General Burke was supposed to be walking at the time. They then
blew down the wall. Fortunately for himself, the Government had learned
that a rescue was to be attempted, and the General had accordingly been
removed to another part of the prison, otherwise he would have been
killed. The victims were poor people who lived in the houses opposite
the gaol, of whom twelve were killed and one hundred and twenty
shockingly injured. An ignorant Fenian named Barrett was convicted of
having been implicated in this clumsy plot, and was tried and executed
in front of Newgate. This outrage ruined the Fenian organisation, not
only in England but in Ireland. Many honest Irishmen, who in a fit of
patriotic enthusiasm had joined its ranks, withdrew from a body whose
deep and dark designs they saw were apt to be carried out with the
stupid brutality that marked the Clerkenwell outrage.
[Illustration: THE QUEEN LAYING THE FOUNDATION STONE OF THE ROYAL ALBERT
HALL. (_See p. 292._)]
But the Fenians were not the only outragemongers who frightened the
comfortable classes out of their senses in 1867. The skilled artisans in
many cases had employed their trade organisations to coerce by violence
masters who refused to yield to the demands of their workmen, and
workmen who refused to obey the orders of their Unions. Early in the
year a Commission had been appointed to consider the legal position of
the Unions, which was most unsatisfactory, and a separate Commission,
appointed to investigate outrages which had been perpetrated at
Sheffield, made some astounding revelations. They reported that the
officials of the Sawgrinders’ Union had hired assassins to maim, murder,
or torture people who thwarted the policy of the Union.[264] They
reported that similar barbarities were practised by the officials of the
Brickmakers’ and Bricklayers’ Unions in Manchester. The country rang
with denunciations of the working classes, and “strikes,” such as that
of the London tailors, were carried on with unparalleled acrimony. War
between “the two nations,” to use Mr. Disraeli’s phrase in “Sybil,” was
imminent. It is curious to observe how seldom public writers and
speakers on the conflict between Labour and Capital which then raged,
took the trouble to ascertain the precise position of the artisans in
the struggle. The truth, however, had been told with uncompromising
honesty by the Committee of the House of Commons, who in 1821 had
reported that outlawry made Trades Unionists lawless. In that year it
was true an Act had been passed to legalise workmen’s combinations for
improving wages and reducing the hours of labour. But then this Act gave
the preference to the word of the master in any dispute between him and
his servant, and pedantic judges had made it a dead letter, by ruling
that “all combinations in restraint of trade” were criminal. Nor had
they stopped here. They roused the wrath of the working classes to white
heat in 1867, by ruling in the case of Hornby _v._ Close that Trades
Unions could not even hold property or funds for benevolent purposes. In
fact, at that period, the position of the English working man was one of
almost servile degradation, and under an extended franchise such a state
of things could not last long. On the 5th of March a Conference of
Trades Unionists was held in St. Martin’s Hall, London, to protest
against the decision in Hornby _v._ Close, a meeting which was the germ
of the great Trades Union Congress, that ultimately became a mighty
power in the industrial world.[265]
Early in the year the Queen received with pleasure the intimation that
Prince Arthur had passed his military examination in a manner that did
him great credit. “I am delighted,” writes the Princess Louis to the
Queen on the 13th of January,[266] “to hear of dear Arthur having passed
so good an examination. How proud you must be of him! And the good
Major,[267] who has spared no pains, I know--how pleased he must be!
Arthur has a uniform now, I suppose.” From another passage in a letter
of the Princess’s, one gathers that the cloud of melancholy which
overhung the Queen’s widowed life was beginning to disappear. “I think,”
says the Princess, replying to one of the Queen’s letters on the
subject, “I can understand what you must feel. I know well what those
first three years were--what fearful sufferings, tearing and uprooting
those feelings which had been centred on beloved papa’s existence! It is
indeed as you say ‘a mercy’ that after the long storm a lull and calm
ensues, though the violent pain which is but the reverse of the violent
love seems only to die out with it, and that is likewise better. Yet,
beloved mamma, could it be otherwise? There would be no justice or
mercy, were the first stage of sorrow to be the perpetual one.” Still,
the advancing year brought its own cares to the Royal Family. A Princess
was born to the Prince and Princess of Wales on the 20th of February,
and though the official announcements stated that both mother and child
were doing well, this was by no means the case. The recovery of the
Princess was not satisfactory, and the physicians at last had to admit
that she was suffering from a peculiarly obstinate rheumatic attack,
that sadly undermined her health and strength. The Queen had, as usual,
confided her anxieties to her daughter at Darmstadt, who in reply wrote
as follows:--“The knowledge of dear sweet Alix’s[268] state makes me too
sad. It is hard for them both, and the nursing must be very fatiguing
for Mrs. Clarke. I am so distressed about darling Alix that I really
have no peace. It may and probably will last long, which is so
dreadful.” On the 14th of April the _accouchement_ of the Princess
Christian took place, when she was safely delivered of a little Prince,
the Queen being in close attendance by her bedside all day.
On the 20th of May the Queen laid the first stone of the Hall of Arts
and Sciences at Kensington, now known as the Royal Albert Hall. It was
intended, and has since been used, for scientific and artistic
congresses, both national and international; performances of music,
distribution of prizes by public bodies, agricultural, horticultural,
and industrial exhibitions, and displays of pictures and sculpture. At
the inaugural function 7,000 visitors were arranged in an oval
amphitheatre richly draped, and gay with the bright summer costumes of
the ladies, and with gorgeous official uniforms. Among the guests were
the Foreign Ministers wearing their decorations, the Lord Mayor and
Aldermen in their robes, Lord Derby, Mr. Disraeli, and other Ministers
and Ex-Ministers. The foundation stone bore in gold letters the
inscription, “This stone was laid by her Most Gracious Majesty Queen
Victoria, May 20, 1867.” Accompanied by Princesses Louise and Beatrice
the Queen arrived at the entrance of the building at Kensington Gore at
half-past eleven, where the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Edinburgh
met the party. After receiving an address read by the Prince of Wales,
her Majesty made the following reply, but, contrary to her usual habit,
in a scarcely audible tone of voice:--
“I thank you for your affectionate and dutiful address. It has been
with a struggle that I have nerved myself to a compliance with the
wish that I should take part in this day’s ceremony; but I have
been sustained by the thought that I should assist by my presence
in promoting the accomplishment of his great designs, to whose
memory the gratitude and affection of the country are now rearing a
noble monument, which I trust may yet look down on such a centre of
institutions for the promotion of Art and Science as it was his
fond hope to establish here. It is my wish that this hall should
bear his name, to whom it will have owed its existence, and be
called ‘The Royal Albert Hall of Arts and Sciences.’”
[Illustration: ARRIVAL OF THE QUEEN AT KELSO. (_See p. 295._)]
Amid a flourish of trumpets and the distant booming of twenty-one guns
that had been stationed in Hyde Park, the polished block of granite was
lowered into its place, the Queen declaring it well and truly fixed. The
Archbishop of Canterbury offered up a short prayer, and the band and
chorus delivered the vocal and instrumental music of a composition by
the Prince Consort, entitled “L’lnvocazione all’ Armonia.” The solo
tenor parts were given by Signor Mario with great effect, and the Queen,
while passing through the building, stopped where he stood, and
personally thanked this sweetest of sweet singers.
On the 22nd the Queen and Court left town for Balmoral. Before her
departure she had decided not to invite formally any of the European
Sovereigns who were in Paris visiting the French International
Exhibition, but as the Sultan had intimated his intention of visiting
England, orders were given to make preparations for his reception. The
Court did not remain long in Aberdeenshire. From June to July the
Princess Louis and her husband were in England, and the Queen had to
return to Windsor to receive the Queen of Prussia, who paid her a visit
on the 25th of June.
[Illustration: VISIT OF THE QUEEN TO MELROSE ABBEY. (_See p. 295._)]
On the 13th of July the Sultan Abdul Aziz arrived in London. On the
following day he visited Windsor. The Queen with the younger members of
the Royal Family received his Majesty in the Grand Hall, and on his
alighting she advanced to meet him. He stepped forward with an Eastern
salutation, and kissed her hand, and in the interchange of courtesies
which ensued, the Queen affectionately kissed his Highness, the young
Izzedin Effendi, the Sultan’s son, as did also the Princess Mary of
Teck. The Grand Turk was indeed the lion of the London season of 1867,
for Society was _en fête_ in his honour. On the evening of the 19th,
after being entertained at a splendid banquet given by the Duke of
Cambridge, he attended a grand ball given by the Secretary of State for
India. The members of the Indian Council led the procession in a body by
themselves, and Sir Stafford Northcote then preceded the august party,
at the head of which walked the Sultan, with the Princess Louis of Hesse
on his arm. In the brilliant train that followed Moslem and Christian
Princes were strangely intermixed. The ball was opened by Sir Stafford
Northcote and the Princess Louis, who led off the first quadrille, the
Sultan looking on the scene with melancholy gravity, as if it were a
show got up for his diversion. He, however, did full justice to the
sumptuous supper, after which refreshment he returned to the ball-room,
and about two o’clock took his departure, followed by the more
distinguished guests. The scene at the India Office had been brilliant
as one in Fairyland. But it was marred by one sad incident. Madame
Musurus, the wife of the Turkish Ambassador, when taking some friends
into supper suddenly dropped down dead. On the 20th the Sultan visited
the Volunteer Camp at Wimbledon, and on the 22nd he was entertained by
the Duke of Sutherland, and day after day the town was kept in a state
of giddy excitement by the uninterrupted succession of spectacles and
entertainments provided in honour of the Queen’s Oriental guests. On the
23rd his Majesty left Buckingham Palace, where he had resided twelve
days, and amidst the cheering of the populace took his departure for
Dover. His visit rather obscured that of the Viceroy of Egypt, who was
the guest of the nation at the same time, and was entertained by the
Queen at Windsor on the 8th of July.
Besides the melancholy and tragic death of Madame Musurus there was only
one other disagreeable incident attached to the Sultan’s visit. A grand
naval review at Portsmouth was arranged for his delectation and
instruction on the 17th of July. It was known that the Queen intended to
confer a mark of distinction on her Imperial visitor, but it was
whispered that he was dissatisfied with what her Majesty proposed to do
for him. The whole story has since been told by Lord Malmesbury, who
says that at first the Queen, at Lord Derby’s suggestion, offered to
confer on Abdul Aziz the Star of India. But Fuad Pasha, who was in
attendance on Abdul Aziz, hearing of this went to the Lord Steward and
warned him that the Sultan would consider himself slighted if he were
offered anything but the Garter. Already he had the Bath, and he seemed
to consider the Star of India as an inferior distinction to the Bath.
Lord Derby was remonstrated with, and finally it was settled that when
the Queen received the Sultan on her yacht at the Naval Review she
should give him the Order of the Garter. This was done with great pomp
and ceremony, as Lord Malmesbury says, “in the midst of the howling of
the storm and the roaring of the cannon.” But here another hitch
occurred. No ribbon was ready, so the Queen took the ribbon of Prince
Louis of Hesse and presented it to the Sultan, intending that he should
return it, when a new one could be got for him. “But,” writes Lord
Malmesbury, “the Sultan refused to give it (the ribbon) up, saying
[Illustration: THE QUEEN INVESTING ABDUL AZIZ WITH THE ORDER OF THE
GARTER.]
that the one he had was given to him by the Queen, and that he would
wear no other.”[269]
In July the Empress of the French spent a few days quietly with the
Queen at Osborne, and on the 9th of August the Queen paid a long visit
to the Royal Victoria Hospital at Netley, where she went through the
wards, speaking after her homely fashion to the sick and wounded
soldiers. She took a special interest in one case--that of a man who had
been shot through the lungs at Lucknow, in 1858, but who had continued
to do duty almost down to 1867.
In the end of the month the Queen resolved to pay a visit to the
Scottish Border, an enchanted land of romance and minstrelsy, of fairy
lore, and feudal chivalry. On the 28th of August, accompanied by
Princess Louise, Princess Beatrice, Prince Leopold, Prince and Princess
Christian, and Prince Christian Victor of Sleswig-Holstein, the Queen
left Windsor Castle in the evening for Balmoral. She broke the direct
route by having her special train stopped at Kelso, in order to visit a
valued friend of the Royal Family--the Duchess of Roxburghe. On arriving
at the station, the Queen affectionately kissed the Duchess; and her
procession to Floors Castle was really a triumphal one. In fact, nothing
could have exceeded the heartiness of the greeting which she everywhere
got from the people. A vast crowd filled the Marketplace, where her
Majesty received an address from the magistrates of Kelso. In replying
to it, she said, “I thank you, Mr. Craig, and the town of Kelso; an
answer will be sent to your address.” A little girl, the daughter of the
Baron Bailie of Kelso, was then lifted up to the royal carriage, and
presented to the Queen a large bouquet, which her Majesty received with
an expression of delight. Her arrival at Floors, the seat of the Duke of
Roxburghe, was announced to the town by a royal salute, fired from
Roxburgh Castle. Great illuminations took place in Kelso at night, to
the delight of thousands of country people. On the 22nd the Queen paid a
visit to Melrose Abbey and Abbotsford. On reaching the Priory, she was
received by the Duke of Buccleuch, the proprietor of the ruins and
Lord-Lieutenant of the county. The Queen went to Jedburgh on the 23rd,
and afterwards visited Hartrigge, a place associated with Lord
Chancellor Campbell’s memory. When the royal progress through the land
of Scott and Thomas the Rhymer ended the Court proceeded to Balmoral.
This tour brightened the Queen’s spirits, which seemed to have been
slightly depressed before she left town. She had half hinted in one of
her letters to the Princess Louis that her home was losing its
attractions for some members of her family, and these suspicions the
Princess promptly dispelled in a letter written from St. Moritz. “You
say,” she observes to the Queen, “that our home is dull now for those
who like to amuse themselves. It is _never_ dull, darling mamma, when we
can be with you, for I have indeed never met a
[Illustration: THE BALL-ROOM, BALMORAL.
(_From a Photograph by G. W. Wilson and Co._)]
more agreeable, charming companion. Time always flies by when one is
with you. I hope it is not impertinent my saying so.” In September the
household at Balmoral was saddened by the death of Sir Frederick Bruce,
whose sister, Lady Francis Baillie, was then staying at the Castle. Dr.
Norman Macleod was also a welcome and valued guest at this time, and,
writing in his Diary on the 18th of September, he says, “I had a long
and pleasant interview with the Queen. With my last breath I will uphold
the excellence and nobleness of her character.”[270] Macleod was now
avowedly the Queen’s favourite pastor in Scotland, and there can be
little doubt that his influence over her Majesty’s mind was most
salutary. His visits always brightened the somewhat dull life of the
Castle, and in a letter to his wife (15th October, 1866) he has given a
vivid little autumnal sketch of a Balmoral “interior” in those days. He
says “the Queen is pleased to command me to remain here (Balmoral) till
Tuesday. I found Mr. Cardwell had been in the Barony, and, to the great
amusement of the Queen, he repeated my scold about the singing.[271]
After dinner the Queen invited me to her room, where I found the
Princess Helena and Marchioness of Ely. The Queen sat down to spin at a
wee Scotch wheel, while I read Robert Burns to her--‘Tam O’Shanter,’ and
‘A Man’s a Man for a’ That,’ her favourite. The Prince and Princess of
Hesse sent for me to see their children. The eldest (Victoria), whom I
saw at Darmstadt, is a most sweet child; the youngest (Elizabeth) is a
round, fat ball of loving good-nature. I gave her a real _hobble_,[272]
such as I give Polly. I suppose the little thing never got anything like
it, for she screamed and kicked with a perfect _furore_ of delight,
would go from me to neither father nor mother, or nurse, to their great
merriment, but buried her chubby face in my cheek, until I gave her
another right good _hobble_. They are such dear children. The Prince of
Wales sent me a message asking me to go and see him.... When I was there
the young Prince of Wales fell on the wax cloth after lunch, with such a
thump as left a swollen blue mark on his forehead. He cried for a
minute, and then laughed most bravely. There was no fuss whatever made
about him by mother, father, or any one.... He is a dear sweet child.
All seem to be very happy. We had a great deal of pleasant talk in the
garden.”[273]
[Illustration: THE QUEEN UNVEILING THE STATUE OF THE PRINCE CONSORT AT
BALMORAL. (See p. 298.)]
In October fresh domestic cares were added to the overladen life of the
Sovereign. To one of these, in a letter from Darmstadt, dated 10th
October, 1867, the Princess Louis alludes as follows:--“I can’t find
words to say how sorry I am that dear, sweet Arthur[274] should have the
small-pox! and that you should have this great anxiety and worry. God
grant that the dear boy may get well over it, and that his dear handsome
face be not marked. The Major (Elphinstone) kindly telegraphs daily, and
you can fancy far away how anxious one is. I shall be very anxious to
get a letter with accounts, for I think constantly of him and of you.”
And again, on the 14th, she writes: “How glad I am to see by your letter
that darling Arthur is going on so very well. One can’t be too thankful;
and it is a good thing over, and will spare one’s being anxious about
him on other occasions.” In the same letter there is a reference to
another matter which had caused the Queen some trouble. There had been,
ever since the Danish war, a coolness between the families of her eldest
son and eldest daughter, which her Majesty had strenuously endeavoured
to remove. Her conciliatory efforts were this year crowned with success.
The Prince and Princess of Wales visited the Continent, and met the King
of Prussia. “Bertie and Alix,” writes the Princess Louis, on the 14th
October, “have been here (Darmstadt) since Saturday afternoon, and leave
to-morrow. They go straight to Antwerp, and Bertie is going back to
Brussels to see the cousins. The visit of the King went off very well,
and Alix was pleased with the kindness and civility of the King (of
Prussia). I hear that the meeting was satisfactory to both parties,
which I am heartily glad of. Bearing ill-will is always a mistake,
besides its not being right.”[275] The embarrassments of the Darmstadt
household, however, still continued to grieve the Queen, to whom her
daughter the Princess Louis, confided all her troubles. The Princess had
broken down in health during the autumn of 1867, and, in one of her
letters she tells the Queen that as she does not consider it prudent,
“for financial reasons,”[276] to engage a governess for her daughter,
the Princess Victoria, she has asked Mr. Geyer, who taught her little
black servant Willem, “to give her a lesson every other day.”[277] On
the 18th of October the statue to the Prince Consort, at Balmoral, was
unveiled, with reference to which the Princess Louis, in one of her
letters (26th of October) expresses a hope which was fairly well
realised--to the effect that the ceremony “went off as well as the
weather would permit.”
[Illustration: THE QUEEN KEEPING HALLOWE’EN AT BALMORAL.]
The Scottish festival of Hallowe’en (31st of October) was kept this year
by the Queen with unusual formality. “We had been driving,” she writes,
“but we turned back to be in time for the celebration. Close to Donald
Stewart’s house we were met by two gillies, bearing torches. Louise got
out and took one, walking by the side of the carriage like one of the
witches in _Macbeth_. As we approached Balmoral, the keepers, with their
wives and children, the gillies, and other people, met us, all with
torches, Brown also carrying one. We got out at the house, where Leopold
joined us, and a torch was also given to him. We walked round the house
with Ross playing the pipes, going down the steps of the terrace. Louise
and Leopold went first, then came Jane Ely, and I followed by every one
carrying torches, which had a very pretty effect. After this, a bonfire
was made of all the torches, close to the house, and they danced reels
while Ross played the pipes.”
In December, after returning from Balmoral, the Queen paid a visit to
Claremont and to Lady Palmerston. “The visit to Claremont,” writes the
Princess Louis, “must have been quite peculiar for you; and I can fancy
it bringing back to your mind the recollections of your childhood. In
spring it must be a lovely place, and with gayer papers on the walls,
and a little modern comfort, the house must likewise be very
pleasant.... The account of your visit to Lady Palmerston and to her
daughter is most touching. It is so inexpressibly sad for grandmother
and mother, for it is unnatural for parents to survive their children,
and that makes the grief a so peculiar one, and very hard to bear.”
[Illustration: THE PRINCE CONSORT MEMORIAL AT BALMORAL.]